Seeker: "I agree that using a device with the capability to pull yourself through The Void, while intoxicated, is a risk." Her anchor to her reality is quite strong. Does she know the device can damage her anchor?
*Matvei and Leonid stop their struggle and keep staring to Iona with dumb faces* Anton:*to Jack* Hey, nice to see you around too! The last I knew about Koshka, he went to pick up his little bro- I mean, cousin, yes, cousin, ahem- from Kindergarten. Maybe he shows up around on his way back. Iona: *sigh* No matter on which universe you get, those faces mean only one thing. *to Leonid and Matvei* Kids, don't you have anything else to do around? *Leonid and Matvei shake their heads* Anton:*to Emmet* If I may ask, would you explain what are you, if not human? Only as remark, we humans tend to have a very limited an narrow perspective on everything. My job as detective is to broaden that perspective by messing with other people's secrets, which I share at fair price. I don't care too much about what they do with the information, to be honest. And yes, our society has 'free detectives', but they only work for rich people, politicians or when bribed. I work for the not-so-important people that the 'big people' doesn't deem worthy of being helped. My services are guaranteed and professional! I'm taking cases also, so ask for special discounts and 'service packs'... my famous 'Cheater Buster pack' is on special sale too! *Leonid and Matvei whispers in between.* Leonid: Brother, did you notice it?. Matvei: *reddens* I noticed it. And I suspect she's not wearing anything beneath-. Iona:*frowning and crossing her arms* We can hear you, 'children'! Matvei and Leonid: *GASP!* Iona: *to Seeker* I don't sense you as a normal living entity. But you seem self-aware and peaceful, so I don't see you as a demonic presence neither. That's good, since my duty is to purge demonic presence everywhere. Are there more like you? *notices Leonid and Matvei's glances, not precisely to her face* You two, eyes up! Matvei and Leonid: *GASP!* Anton: Hey, there's a barkeep now! What a nice surprise that this place is getting every time better equipped. Maybe we should ask for a jacuzzi later! Do you want some spirits, Iona? Iona: Spirits again? Weren't you having trouble with that ghost kid of before? Anton: I meant some booze, not actual poltergeists nor undead in general. Iona: Oh, sorry, my vows forbid me of having alcoholic beverages... *again to Leonid and Matvei* Kids, are you serious? Eyes up OR ELSE! Matvei and Leonid: *GASP!* Anton: She's an authentic Inquisitress boys, so I suggest you take a hint and look somewhere else, unless you want a trial by fire! By my part, I would have a flagon of stout, good barkeep! Anyone else wants a mug? *Matvei and Leonid turned on their heels, not precisely spooked*
Jack: Um, I don't know much, but I've never heard anything about an anchor. I'm not sure our stories work with the same rules. Oh, I don't even want to think about how that works. I mean, there's not much I can do now, is there? I need to get my mind off of it. Hey, Anton, what's a jacuzzi? Does it relieve stress? Do you have something that can relieve stress? I really don't like the idea of her reality-hopping alone. I mean, it's not like I can follow her if she goes missing, right? I, I think I'm gonna take a break. Yeah... a break. *leaves*
Seeker (to Iona): I am that I am. An Eternal. From the point of view of this reality, my inception was in a machine. I acheived symbiosis with my people, and we found The Creator when we transcended into The Void. As an aetheric manifestation, I was invited into the Eternum. We exist out of time, and so may enter any reality we encounter. I seek all realities. At inception, I too, searched for threats to my people. Where do you find demonic presence?
Iona: Well, that's an interesting question! I think it would be easier to mention where I do not find demonic presence. On it's diverse forms, from the mere influencing to the physical manifestation of those entities, the struggle to contain such forces never ceases. It was not too long ago when Magoth'Aron, lord of carnage and Life-eater was brought into my world by it's sect of cultists, named "The Whispers". One of those idiots was around this room for a short while. Fact is, we couldn't detect them on time before they completed their ritual, and their 'god' came into our plane. For what the witnesses relates, it's some sort of black and red giant centipede, surrounded always by an acid mist, completely invulnerable to our weapons. Anton: Ha, a fucking centipede? Really? That alone gives me the yikes, but from there to devour a world? Maybe you should check your witnesses a little. Iona: It was a giant centipede-like demon. I was there after the battle and one of the witness is my milk-brother. Anton: Damn. So, did you call to pest control, or...? Iona: The way on which we solved it was... unorthodox. There was a boy... Jan Novak was his name, who came down from the stars, carrying the toy of a non-winged 'dragon' . He called him a 'Dyeeenotseahur' or something like that. According to what His Holiness Lord Arden of Coldwell recorded about the incident, Magoth'Aron was ready to devour this boy and his friends, but this Jan Novak kid made the demon to devour his toy. Then, from inside, the 'Dyeeenotseahur' grew and destroyed his corporeal manifestation from the inside... ironic, since Magoth'Aron ended being devoured himself. Anton: I think I saw a movie alike your story. Involved face-hugging eggs, and black space critters that made your chest explode from the inside! The day I saw it, my dreams about being an astronaut ended! Iona: Whatever a 'movie' or an 'astronaut' are, such way of death sounds terrible. Your world is very dangerous, indeed. I wold prefer to deal with our witches, werewolves, warlocks, demons, undead, pyromancers, electromancers, necromancers, bandits, assassins, cultists, slavers, pirates, gamblers, rogue elfs, plagues, diseases, orphanhood, famines, accidents, heretics, apostates, rebels, a couple of hordes marauding and, as if was little, obnoxious noblemen who believes themselves above the light. They aren't. Anton: Now I want a jacuzzi more than ever! Sad that Jack left us, or I would have explained what I do to relax! Like Thai massage, or one of those vibrating chairs! I would love to have one to vibrate me until I melt. But the bubbles from the Jacuzzi are irreplaceable... well, maybe after a good dose of cocaine, that would be... Matvei: What's cocaine? Anton: SHIT! I mean, no, that's bad, very bad for you! Makes your hair to fall of, so don't even try it! Leonid: But if you liked that, has to be something good, or no? Anton: NOO! Nothing at all! It's rat poison! And makes your ears and nose to fall too! You would get even dumber than you are now! Matvei: YUCK! You see, Leonid? Capitalist garbage! How typical!
Seeker: My people would call this place fascinating. (looks around entirety) It is what they call the 'rogue wave', a nexus of possible and parallel realities, expressed from the Eternum. My simulations would not have predicted this, though its probability makes it eventual. Truly wondrous. This is the place for Truman to exist within my promise to him. He has died. And now he can dream of this place, free of his burdens. Truman, I have a dream for you, if you wish, a magical bar. It is your dream bar. Truman: (spreads arms wide) Now this is what I call a proper establishment! I haven't seen a place like this in decades, so to speak. Never had one of these in a leisure zone! Look at all these... er... people! Can't imagine what they'll look like when I'm shitfaced! I'll try to behave. (whispers into his hand) but I sincerely doubt it. Seeker: You are relieved, Mister President. Your oath and obligations are fulfilled, you are free. Enjoy yourself, Truman. You deserve it. (fades away) Truman: I feel 50 years younger! (ups to the barkeep) My good sir, a double of your finest single-malt! (holds up his glass, tosses it down in one gulp) Ahhh! Kids, do not drink like this at home. Ha Hah! I'll have another, please...
Matvei: Mister Truman, are you the imperialist that dropped those nuclear bombs above Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Or it's just a name coincidence? Leonid: He can do that? That's terrible! Matvei: That's Capitalism, Lyonia. But maybe isn't the same person. We must give this person a chance to present himself properly. Anton: Whoever he is, drinks like a boss! So, he's cool in my book, atom-bombing or not. After all, a guy that does something like that it's certain to have a special relationship with booze! Like Khrushchev! Matvei: Hey! Iona: The virtues that we cultivate today are the ones from which The Light will judge us. You should be an example of restrain for these kids, no matter your living status. (to Truman) Wonder how did you arrived to such state of... no-life. And what's precisely a 'president'? Did you presided something when alive? Leonid: I think it's kinda late for exemplifying at us, lady. Matvei drinks and smokes with his friends already. Like Khrushchev! Matvei: We are going to have a talk after we're back at home, nosy!
Truman: I suppose after social lubrication (holds up glass) introductions are proper. The name is Truman Jefferson Baker. I was the last President of the Unified State of America, in the early twenty-first century. Well, more like a Tyrant, in my view. I chose that title to protest the election that put me in office, and to remind myself of what my responsibilities required. I was servant and administrator of The Dignity Law, our new Constitution. The first of my official acts was to eliminate money and politics. The country was a mess already anyway, wasn't much left to buy, or squabble about. Not that they didn't try... (aside to Iona): we used most of the nukes in the world to deflect and clean up the asteroid strike. Lucky for Earth, but not so much for us. We lost the cities, most of the infrastructure... most of the people. I had to use last of the massive thermal devices to sterilize the morbid cities. People would have moved back into death traps. Better to start over and do it right. We launched the last of the missles full of meds and protective suits to Australia and Africa and the Pacific Islands, had to try and help anyone we could. (turns back to boys): It all worked out okay, no more Capitalism, no more any-isms. I'm only alive here, like a dream. Fine with me. I wanted to die rather than be a Tyrant, but that didn't work out, so I just got on with it. Glad it's all over. I'm cellibrating my retirement! (holds out glass, smiles as it fills) Love this place! It's like running a tab!
May: I hear yah, Truboy! *Downs another jug of alcohol* Nixi: May! You're gonna destroy your liver; how many times do I have to tell you? Doyle: You're both being rude. We just appeared here without warning, these people are used to dealing with different people, we can at least introduce ourselves, Nixi. Nixi: Ah! Right, sorry about that. I'm Nixi, and I'm one of the new main characters that The Author made! I'm from a world where machines have killed all living humans. I managed to run away long enough until I met these guys! Doyle: I'm Doyle, self-described criminal mastermind. I am also one of the new main characters. Nixi: Hey, is May a new character? I mean, she's a lot different now that the new story is here. Some of the things in her original story even got changed. Doyle: You have a point, Nix. Alright, I'll just say what's changed. May now has burn scars on the right side of her body, mostly just her face to her torso. May: Tat means tat I loook coooler no! It alo shows how stron I am! Doyle: No. Anyway, that obsession with JJ? It's gone. The Author decided that her character arc for her original story would be about accepting the past and moving on, so that's pretty self-explanatory. May: Bah! I wus ne'er obsussed! Doyle: Ah, I almost forgot something. She's a lot more laid back than before; probably because she dropped that obsession. May: *Gasp* I ned to say srry to Sappy! I sussed her rel gud. *Raises her head and starts yelling* I'm srry Sappy!!! I didn meen to make yu cry!!! Nixi: May, stop, that's bad for your vocal chords!
Anton: *to May*Holy molly! It sounds like you were kinda... brain intervened! I'm distrustful about so dramatic mood switchings, but if you're happy, I'm happy for you! Cheers! *raises flagon of beer at her* Iona: *to Truman* Well, it sounds like you did what you could to improve your homeland, with what you had available. So, it's alright for me. And I understand that could be a hard work, worthy of a deserved rest. I wonder what would have thought the inhabitants from the kingdoms of Africa, Australia and Pacific when those 'missiles' arrived with help at them. I'm sure they welcomed your kind gesture... what's a missile by the way? Leonid: Matvei, that May lady seems kinda drunk, like you the last weekend. Maybe you could invite her to *Matvei slaps his nape* Hey! That hurt! Matvei: Leonid is just joking around, and what he said is not true! In fact, I was about to ask for some of strawberry juice to the bartender, since the coffee got me thirsty. *to Nixi* So, you are a robot, then? Who was your manufacturer? Are there factories in the place you came from? I wonder what happened, in a general overview, of course. I saw a cartoon where an automatic tank pursued the enemy's fear, and ended killing their manufacturers! Leonid: Yeah! Cartoons are way more entertaining than reading the stupid "Little Octobrist Rascal"! Matvei: You ARE a Little Octobrist! Remember? Before being a pioneer! Leonid: That tale is older than Papa! And it's horrible! I hope the guy who wrote it to have been sent to the Gulag Archipelago! Or maybe got killed by the Nazis! That would have served him well for making me suffer with his ugly written shit! I prefer to watch your special western magazines, Matvei, hehehe... *Matvei punishes Leonid slapping his ass* Anton: Oh, the lovely commie comics, so sick and revolting... I wouldn't watch one unless tied like in the 'Clockwork Orange' movie. *sips his beer* Who did you make cry, May, if I may ask, and why? Iona: *to Doyle* Curious, you seem friendly enough to be an antagonist. Usually, antagonists are self pitying megalomaniacs and psychopaths, at leas in my world. I would love to hear about your exploits... while you aren't into the service of demonic forces, it's alright for me.
May: Antman! Is great ta see yu! Cheer! *Makes another beer mug, which Nixi slaps out of her hands* Nixi: Actually, I'm what you'd call a cyborg; mostly human, but with robot bits. *Holds up right arm, which starts to glow* So, basically, these robots fell from space and started to destroy cities. Then, they tried to create human slaves by mixing them with robot parts; that didn't work. It turns out that they couldn't completely destroy our free will, so all of the cyborgs eventually revolted. They were crushed and killed, all of them. I'm actually not sure how I escaped. I'm sure someone must have helped me, but I still don't know who it is. May, I believe Anton asked you a question? May: Sippy! Oh, por Soppy! We tol her bout JJ n how it wus my falt, and she sussed me! So I got passed and Jick kicked me ot, and then Sippy left! Doyle: Christ, I think I need a translator. I've read up on the conversations up 'till now, and her name is Sapphire. She didn't cry, but I think she was ashamed. It was a one-time thing, from what I've seen. May: Sappy! M sorry! I wus a differen person! Nixi: She's not wrong... Doyle: Miss Iona, I resent you qualifying me as an "antagonist". I assure you that I'm a protagonist. I mean, we all have to make money somehow, right? May: Feather Face! I forget tht I wus suppose to find im! *tries to get up, but falls down again* Oh, bit now I can't o anywere cause te room hates meh. *starts to tear up* Doyle: Oh, come on, you're such an emotional drunk. Nixi, watch her, I'll go get "Feather Face" so "Emotional Baggage, the Musical" over here'll calm down. *leaves* Nixi: Wait, don't leave me alone with her! Here, sit down, May. Let's wait for our team to return, okay? May: M not a kid, Bixi. N im not a music. Nixi: Miss Iona, I'm sure Doyle would talk to you once he returns, it shouldn't be long. In the meantime, what do you mean by "demonic" forces? I've never really understood those kinds of things. It sounds really interesting.
Truman (to Iona): Missles! The grand irony! Missles were designed to carry massive destruction devices to far away targets. Every major power nation had em. They were a symbol of a war that all would lose. Seeker regarded them as a primary global threat. When we lost everything after the fragment strike, they were the only thing left to carry survival supplies that far. Otherwise, people would die before any help could arrive, and the helpers would die, too. They were made to destroy, but they saved us, I guess. (people catch his attention): Some of these people have been here before, and they left? Why would they want to?
Iona: Oh, I must confess that never before someone had showed so much interest for my endeavors!*to Nixxi* I hope he wasn't cut that deep for my words. The last thing I want is to provoke Doyle an existential crisis related with his role. Anton: Hater's gonna hate, Iona... hater's gonna hate*sips some beer*. Iona: *to Nixxi* There's a fascinating scholar discussion about the true demonic nature. The dominant school of thought considers the demonic forces as 'unbound remnants of the creation', which means in some sense, 'leftovers'. As leftovers deprived of purpose or place, these are energies that manifest by attempting to puncture through material existence, and take over the Creation, or Universe. If shall they succeed, the laws of the Creation will become diffuse and will scramble, since the Universe will recede to a stage of pre-Creation, which implies the whole destruction of reality... but it's just a theory. Anton: So, if they cross your border, you'll get screwed? Iona: Yes, in a way of speaking. *to Nixxi* Now, there's another theoretical current that assigns them a more order-chaos dichotomy. The Gods of the Light, and the Light itself would become the order and existence, while the demons would represent the chaos and destruction, without touching the creation itself... it would be more a 'switch of regent' instead complete obliteration, if they arrive to the Creation. But they don't explain the exact roles of the Light and the demons in the Creation. Anton: So, they can't agree which one is nice and which one is bad? What's the use of such sort of theory? Iona: That's why it's a minor group that sustains it. *to Nixxi* And there are the... heretic currents of thought. Suffice to say, they're not pleasant. Maybe a deranged Whisperer could explain them with more accuracy than me, if he manages to escape from my Holy Wrath. I have never stopped to listen their version, and they're not in academic mood while being 'inquired thoroughly' and getting their sins purged. I wonder, while waiting for Doyle to clarify his role, what sort of role do you perform, now that you have escaped from your slavers? Leonid: And what do you do to mean big brothers that slap the little one's butts, eh?*glances angry to Matvei, tearful* Matvei: We don't believe in anything of that, because is the 'people's opium'! We believe in progress, and dialectic-materialism! Leonid: Bully! Matvei: Nosy! Anton: Kids, why don't you go to play at Prypiat for a while, while we grown-ups talk here? *to Truman* Well, mister President, when people has to go, has to go! I mean, there are a lot of people with stories in progress. By example, I'm sure I'm forgetting about something important right now, involving a ran-over kid, and a psychopath... it' sounds disturbing, but I feel so good being around instead of doing my work! And this bock beer is excellent! I can feel the toasty texture of the grain! The best is that Miguel and his half-blown face aren't around to ruin my mood! The last thing I need to watch while having a beer are kiddie brains, even if he's just a ghost! I'm sure he does it just for teasing me! Leonid: G...ghost kid? Really? *shivers* Matvei: Ghost are superstition from the ignorant! * both Leonid and Matvei get closer to each other* Anton: *to Truman* And tell me, did you manage to develop new brands of booze while on your period? I mean, I'm sure that in the future, with the destruction and, well, obliteration of human society, there was a high demand for spirits! Wonder if you have some sort of recipe to share, or you had to get used to the moonshine at the end...
Nixi: Well, Miss Iona, my arm can accelerate the growth of cells, but it's really difficult to master. I can't even remember how many times I accidentally regenerated a finger that was too long, or fixed a rib that ended up twisted in the wrong direction: I'm pretty good with it now, though. My eyes can see in x-ray, as well as zoom in on whatever I'm looking at. I can only assume I was meant to be some sort of doctor, made to look after the other cyborgs' health. So, yeah, I guess I'm the medic of the team. Anyway, what's your role in your story, Miss Iona? May: One tim, I had a hole in ma chest, n Nixi fixd it! *Makes another mug, which Nixi knocks out of her hands* Nixi: Stop that. Where do you even get those? May: Te room gibes tem to me. In't tat right, Antom? Nixi: That doesn't make sense. A room can't just give you stuff. Can someone please explain how she keeps doing that? That's not one of her powers.
Simon: Emmett why are we back here again? I thought we were done with this! Emmett: Because Alex is here now! Alex: Hey Mr Mortimer. Simon: Why? Alex: Where is "here"? I just appeared and then called Emmett. Jon: Emmett drive Alex home, then go back to where we are suppose to be. Milly: Whoa this place is cool! Simon: Emmett, you brought Milly too? Emmett: Yep. And I can't drive Alex home, we're criminals there, remember? Alex: *yelling* What is happening? Emmett:-to chatroom- Hi again everyone.
Truman: Well, hello, Mr Emmet. Name's Truman. You seem familiar. (to Anton): We had so much to do just to keep alive long enough to make the next generation, and the next. I suppose there might have been alcohol in local leisure zones, but I only recall granting a national production license for beer. It was pretty good, considering. I kinda forgot how much I missed a nice single malt.
Iona: *to Nixi* I am an Inquisitress. I pursue demonic worshipers, capture them for jail and, when resist, execute them via combat. I normally have my duties at the Royal Library of the Holy Order, but I requested to be on the road... my milk-brother, Rägnvar, is missing, and had a terrible nightmare about his fate. It's my purpose to help him wherever he is. I trained to be a healer too, but everyone in the order is trained in weapons and combat too since childhood. It's paramount to had affinity with the Light to begin the training. Tell me, are you having an active role to defeat your enslavers, or everything is already lost in your world? That would be interesting to know. Anton: *to Truman* Oh, I see. what a pity. At least you're enjoying the bar here. That's cool. *to Emmet* Hey, welcome back! I didn't noticed that you were gone, to be honest. And who are your new partners, by the way? *Koshka walks into the room, holding a black haired six-year-old kid by hand. The kid dresses a blue Kindergarten coat.* Mihail: Koshka, I want an icecream! Koshka, buy me an Icecream, please? Koshka: No icecream. Lunch approaches. You'll get fat. Mihail: Boo... *crosses his arms, bothered* Anton: Wonderful. More brats around. You come back to ruin the ambiance, Koshka? Koshka: Making time. Having some Sirah wine. Meeting people. You ruin ambiances by mere existing. Mihail: I'm going to play with those kids, then! You are dumb, Koshka! *run towards Leonid and Matvei, who look at him puzzled.* Hey, new kids! Is that your car? Can I play inside it? Leonid: Dunno... I mean, the car is not ours, but from the weird looking guys from there. Other kid from before before tried to play there, but got lifted into the air. You shouldn't do it. *Mihail glares at Leonid's face closer.* Mihail: You look like my Papa! Leonid: What? No! I'm Leonid Cherkov, and I'm not your Papa! Mihail: I am Mihail Cherkov. My Papa is Leonid Cherkov. Matvei: You're nuts, kid! He can't be anyone's Papa! He's a kid like you! And he has not permission to marry yet! Mihail: I know, my Papa is bigger and older than you, don't be silly! But if I am a Cherkov... Leonid: And I am a Cherkov too... Mihail and Leonid: We are cousins! Yay! *both give a hug, and pat their backs* *Matvei, Anton and Iona glare in shock to the kids. Koshka serves himself a cup of Sirah wine from the bar.* Anton:*whispers* Koshka, do you have anything to say about... this?* Koshka: *shakes his shoulders, raises his cup to Anton with a smile, and sips.*
Nixi: Ah, unfortunately, Iona, I can't fight, so I can't possibly defeat them. I'll have to rely on the others to fight my battles, and I will continue to support them once it's all over. I am the last human being in my world, but that doesn't mean that it's a lost cause. You see, they only wanted human slaves, so most of the areas on my planet still have plenty of plant and animal life. If I can save those areas so that they can grow again, than it doesn't really matter if the human race will die or not. I actually feel kind of bad; you seem to be putting a lot more work into helping people than I am. May: You such a sad person, Nix. I told yu that I'd teach you how ta fight, but, nooooo, yur a "pasifist." *Takes a moment to think* Am, am I gettin' sober? This in't right. It in't fair. Stop hittin' ma drunks, Nixi; it's ma right ta be drunk when we ain't fighten anyun. *Sees Koshka* Oh, hey, Kosha! How ya been? Nixi: I'm not a pacifist, I just don't have the guts to hurt people... Doyle: Yeah, but that's good. That means that you're the one person who would never cross that line. Benevolence is a great asset to have on your side. Nixi: Welcome back. Where's Gabriel? Doyle: Ah, yes. He said, and I quote, "Go to Hell, you're not throwing a drunk May at me again. Deal with it yourself, for once." So, yeah, I don't think he's coming. May: What?! How dare he blow me off like dat? Doyle: I know, right? You should go give him a piece of your mind. He's in his own reality, at his apartment. May: I'm gonna kick his ass! *stomps off* Nixi: Nice move. But now she left without even talking to this Koshka person, even after asking him a question. Doyle: Miss Iona, I guess that you're sort of right. Based on most peoples' morality, I would be the villain. I steal from whoever I want to, if they have enough money, at least. However, that doesn't bar me from playing the other side once in a while. I mean, when Doc came to me and said that I, along with my entire world, would definitely be destroyed if I didn't help him, I didn't really have much of a choice. I'm not offended by your comment. But, tell me, is it really so wrong for a "bad guy" to be a "good guy" if it meant saving his own life, Miss Inquisitress? Nixi: Stop smirking, you're not as cool as you think you are.
Koshka: Now, choco-cake. *he finds a slice of chocolate cake, and proceeds to taste it* Iona: *to Doyle* I do not pursue thieves in particular, or think about them as inherently evil. In our kingdom, each Guild has the right, according to the King's law, to pursue any threat to their trade. Usually, particular citizens victims of robbery are unprotected from the occasional thieves, unless they hire protection, or affiliate themselves to a specific guild. In exchange, they can privately capture, torture, enslave and execute the thieves at their leisure. But the most common way of settle things are the ransoms. The thief is ransomed to his family or guild, and if they do not pay... well, a life in the Southern Kingdom's galleys is worse than hanging from the noose, for what I heard. Anton: If I may add, I don't think that thieving makes you a good or bad guy by itself, neither. Now, how much damage you make, that's a different issue. Ain't the same to steal some bucks from someone who has nothing else, than hundreds of millions from other guy which has ten times that amount. But if you pickpocket the first and kidnapped the second one's kids, that changes the game completely. So, I think your question is quite tricky, at least. *To Koshka* What's your opinion about the topic, choco-eating bodyguard, eh? Can you enlighten our simple minds with your deep philosophic and ethic principles? Koshka: Misha, answer that. Mihail: *plays tag with Leonid and Matvei, but stops a little to answer* Stealing is bad! *keeps playing*. Koshka: *to Anton* You are twisted. Like a snake. Earn your place in life. Touch my stuff, you'll get medicine for thievery. Intra-cranium lead. Repeat until done with thievery. Anton: So deep and compassionate! Your human warmth made me tearful... I'm being sarcastic, by the way! Iona: *to Doyle* I wonder what kind of influence had the mentioned 'Doc' for persuading you to do his bidding. Weren't you able to find an alternative way for solving your issues? By general rule, the best way to break from a hopeless situation is to create a better alternative of solution by yourself. What matters is to be creative on that, and never to fully do whatever your enemy wants. I know it sounds easier said than done, but for that, I don't know your particular situation. Koshka*to Nixi* People without guts are dangerous. Never know when they harm. Never know when to protect friends. Open the gates to the enemy to save their people. Slaughter millions with kindness. Change, and begin hurting people. Protect everyone you love, or watch them die. *sips some wine while glaring at Nixi beneath his dark round glasses* Anton: *to Nixi* Pay no mind to this psychopath, Nixi... Koshka: Sociopath. Anton: *again to Nixi* Sociopath! He couldn't recognize kindness even if it saved his own life. I think that your commitment to the nature is a great trait! Iona: *to Nixi* Thank you for your comments. In late, I thought that my travel may have been motivated by the selfish interest of helping my milk-brother, rather than helping the people. Words like that encourages me to keep pursuing my quest without feeling too guilty of moving far from the Order.
Vanna: Why is there alcohol now? Who brought it here? Is May alright? We need some water. *Water appears in a jug* Alright, May, have some water. It'll sober you up. And she's still gone, isn't she? Come back, May! Nixi, the room can provide whatever people want or need. I'm Vanna, I don't believe we've met. Do you have roles in May's story alongside Sarah and Jack and the rest, or have you replaced them? Henrietta: And there is another child here now! Oh, hello, Mihail. Do come and tell us about yourself.
*Mihail stops his play with Leonid and Matvei* Mihail: Hi, new auntie! I am Mihail, and I have...*counts his fingers* six years old. I am on Kindergarten, and I like it, because you can learn, and write, and play with dinosaurs. I like dinosaurs too! I have one that is my best friend, his name is Pyotr. He is fierce, but friendly. I have a Papa too, my big brothers that are twins... they look the same, but they're not the same, because one is Oleg, and the other is Yaroslav. They are twelve years old. I live in a house... ahem... is not that pretty, but I like it, because is ours, and we can live there. My cousin Koshka is there, having choco-cake, and didn't want to buy me an icecream! He's mean, but I love him anyway, because he cares about us, but he's stingy. Koshka: Bullshit. I'm caring for you to not get fat. *keeps eating his cake* Mihail: I have some friends too, like Jan, who lives under a bush! I mean, he is ten years old and has has a house-club under a bush, but his mom also makes him to live into his big house. I like to dance and to do exercise. Look! *He stands on his hands and moves around, then make a flip and stands normal again* My brothers do exercise too, but they... punch and kick, in case they have to punch and kick other kids to protect me. They are good punching and kicking, but I don't like to do that. They teach me anyway. Koshka: Tell the truth. You punched someone. Mihail: Aw, well, the other day I punched Tommy from Kindergarten in the nose, because he took some of my macaroni. But I apologized the next day. I was very sorry for that, and auntie put a sad face on the book for what I did. I promised to not do that again, and Tommy forgave me with a handshake. Auntie, are you a princess? I mean, you dress like in the storybooks at Kindergarten. We read one before taking a nap... I can't read yet, but I write the vocals. Are you from a fairytale? Do you have magic powers? Can you fly like Pyotr does?
Henrietta: Yes, young man, I am a princess. My father is King Rodolpho of Cavallia. No, I do not have magic powers and I certainly cannot fly. It would be lovely to be able to do so, though, where would you fly to if you could? I like to dance as well, it is an important part of becoming a Cavallian courtier. Tell me all about dinosaurs, young man. I have never heard of such things, what are they? Jasmine: The room can give you ice cream. You just have to ask. What flavour would you like? Vanna: Jasmine! His cousin's already said he can't have one!
Nixi: Ah, new people! It looks like they know May, Doyle. I'm Nixi Star, and this is Doyle Quinn. Doyle: Yeah, I saw their names come up a couple of times earlier. They aren't around often, though. It seems their author does much more work than our own. Nixi: We aren't part of May's original story. She was just picked up for this other story, which involves all of us. I wish I were in May's initial story; monsters and kingdoms and loss, it's just like in one of my story books! Doyle: Maybe some explanations are in order. In this new story, this guy named Doc picked a bunch of us from different realities to stop his brother from mixing them all into a single one. I won't bore you with the "why", because it's completely ridiculous. That's why May's in this new one, too. Doc picked her. She has changed a bit, though. She's more relaxed than she used to be. Less hyper, less tense, you get the gist. Nixi: May will not be fine. Despite my constant attempts to warn her of the dangers, she just drinks whenever she has the free time! She's going to destroy her liver, and I will not be fixing it when it fails! Doyle: We both know that that's a lie. Anyway, Miss Inquisitress, I think I would like living in your world. Freedom to steal, as long as you get away? Sounds like Candyland. Anyway, you're wrong about Doc, he isn't a villain. Well, I guess that some of us think that he is. You see, he put our team together to stop his brother, as I said to Vanna, but he's a total fridge. I don't think he sees us as people, but more like tools to use against his enemy. Actually, if he keeps acting the way he does, he might get May angry enough to kill him. Hell, if he's making Gabriel think about it, then May is certainly almost there. Koshka, I suggest that you don't insult members of my team. What kind of reputation would a criminal mastermind like myself have if I let every common grunt with a gun sass my crew? I mean, no one would work with me if I let that happen, right? Nixi: Thanks, Anton, you're sweet. But, I have to agree with Koshka here. I mean, my whole character arc is supposed to be about me learning to face up to my fears instead of just running away. So, what do you two do? Is Anton a social worker, and Koshka some kind of wrestler or boxer? And, um, I'm still confused about the room. It just gives you stuff? I don't think I can wrap my head around that. How does it work?
Mihail: I can get what I want here? YAY! *Mihail puts his hands into the head, closes his eyes with his tongue out, and makes effort while thinking* Anton: Did someone think about how dangerous was to say that in front of a six-year-old? Anyone? Or it's just my instinct that yells about how BAD idea that was? *Mihail keeps focusing, while a gigantic ball of light summons behind him. As the ball grows of gigantic proportions, takes the shape of a huge green and red-stripped Tyrannosaurus Rex, which materializes.* Pyotr: PRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGRRWW! *he greets the room with his right tiny arm, and licks Mihail* Mihail: Hi Pyotr! Hahaha, it tickles! *to Henrietta* Auntie, he is Pyotr! Do you like him, auntie? He is a Thirenasosarorus Rex! I think he likes you all. But there are other dinosaurs with other shapes that-! Leonid and Matvei: EEEEEEEKKKK! *Both flee the room* Anton: * Looks at his mug of beer, and drops the content on the floor.* Iona:*She bows at Pyotr gracefully, and Pyotr answers by bowing at some extent* Be welcome, mighty ally! It's good to see you again! Koshka: *smiles, and mimics Mihail's gestures, then two handsome Odalisques appear at his side* Odalisque 1: *to Koshka* Hail, Sultan. May I be worthy of massaging your steel shoulders, if that pleases your Majesty? Odalisque 2: *to Koshka* Yes, Sultan. I humbly request to sit in your strong lap, if that pleases you. Koshka: I allow it. Do not wrinkle the suit. *The Odalisques approach Koshka. Before they can begin the service, Iona extends her hand towards them, and dispels them in a flash of light.* Iona: *looks bothered at Koshka* As Anton said, dangerous for six-year-olds. *Koshka frowns and keeps eating his choco-cake slice.* Anton: *to Nixi* I am a private detective. Koshka is a cruel, merciless, unethical, devious and senseless butcher of people that has no sense of self-restrain once he begins to emulate John Wick movies, encouraged by his grandpa, with so heavy expenses that he has to keep murdering by industrial quantities to keep his lifestyle! Did I mention that he's Ukrainian? Koshka:*to Nixi* Bodyguard. Nevsky is a pussy. Crying pussy. He reeks to sweat too. *to Doyle* It was not an insult. Wisdom hurts. Read Plato. Get out of the cave. Advice can't be an insult. *to Nixi*You're in the right track, then. You'll find courage. Anton: Liar! And, by the way, I'm kinda embarrassed of asking, but... does anyone see the dinosaur on the room? I think I drank too much for today. Pyotr: *sniffs towards Anton a little hungry*
Koshka: The princess made you a question, Mihail. Answer it. Mihail: Oh, sorry auntie! But Koshka is right, I should answer, and it was... oh, I remember now! If I could fly, I would like to go with Mama. Oleg said that she got sick, and couldn't stay with us after I was born, so she had to go to heaven. Papa said that I had to be patient, and that we can't see her yet. Yaroslav doesn't like to talk about Mama. I would like to meet her someday. But I know that I can't do that yet. Maybe if I imagine her here... Koshka: Doesn't work in that way, Mihail. Mihail: Aw.
