Riverside

[Murkus]

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

"You've done a very fine job preserving her," Sticks comments gently, impressed once again by the young lady's dedication. He folds his long, slim hands behind his back and bends forward slightly as he examines it.

"...You're right. It's a wise plan. And I think the... 'coaxing' of this little being should be quite easy, considering your link. You see the soul is... traded, a little bit, with each being you share time and life with. If she was a very happy pet, your bond will be particularly strong. You could, theoretically, harness this to create a much larger construct with these bones as a base. If you liked."

[Arkhosia]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

A Few Months Ago....

It's a dreary fall afternoon at Riverside Community High School as Anastasia slips into the cafeteria. She tries to keep a low profile. Last Friday had ended pretty awkwardly, with her and Eliseo being threatened with suspension and then being rightfully chewed out by both of their parents. Fortunately, the two of them had been able to write an earnest apology and get away with detention, but both of them were still grounded....

…and since first period, Anastasia's pretty sure some of her classmates have been giving her weird looks. She squeezes the handle of her lunchbox and glances about. Her stomach does a little topsy-turvy flip. Are people staring at them? Oh gosh, they're definitely staring at them. The fox shrinks a little into her boyfriend's shadow. "U-um, El? Maybe- maybe we should eat outside."

[Shadowcaller]

[Project Icarus]

The King in Rags doesn't comment on whether Ilpholin's pants feature into his motivations. The bird simply flies over to Nahlrae and turns into shadow and dust, hiding behind the boy's own shadow. There it waits for Tauron to return and the procedure to begin.

[Project Icarus]

Tauron returns a few minutes afterwards, emerging from the same door he went through. "I apologize for the delay. I had to make sure the device was working properly first." He gestures for Nahlrae. "But it's all ready for you now." He had considered telling the boy not to say anything about this to his mother but long term that would just mean that the child would have something on him. Not ideal.

He would simply have to explain all this to Ilpholin once it was done. Hopefully he could frame it as the child wanting to learn and prepare for the worst. That's why she was training him all the time wasn't it? To prepare him for a cold and cruel world. This would simply be a part of that training.

Of course, Nahlrae could just claim he hadn't consented to this, since Tauron made no illusions that the child could be trusted in any capacity. He had no grudge with Ilpholin's offspring but children were deeply irrational. Acting on ignorant and cruel impulses, much like some phyrexians. But he would deal with that possibility once the child was engaged with the machine...

Tauron will lead the boy to nearly completely bare room which only contain a huge metal tank. If Nahlrae indeed has his mother 's memories he might be reminded by a sensory deprivation tank. It's top is rounded and on the very center of that is a hatch held open by Tauron's myr servants. The pale blue glow coming from the opening is the only thing that illuminates the room.

"Think you can climb the ladder to the top on your own?" Tauron inquires as he gestures to one of the two metal ladders on the sides of the tank. It's not that high up but these ladders do not seems to be made for a three year old to climb.

[Fight or Flight]

"Make sure of it, Kid. The better Nadia's mood the more likely you're going to get that car you always keep bringing up." Since Irena was powerless in that matter. If she even considered him deserving one enough to give him one, there would be hell to pay from her wife and that was not something she could afford.

And with those words Irena takes her leave.

[Gullara]

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

Reilana allows herself a satisfied smile. "She was pampered like a princess, so I'm not worried about that. I don't really want to do anything quite like that, though. Leave the physical stuff to me; I'm really good at it. I actually came across a concept that I'm interested in trying as well." She produces a quite old looking tome from the same bag the skeleton came out of. She props that in her arm and cracks it open to a bookmark. "Skeletal compression." She puts a finger onto the page, which crinkles a little. Is she supposed to have that here? "Where an entire skeletal structure is collapsed into a dense bone formation. With the right prompting you can get it to unfold again. And..." She flips to a second bookmark. "Ectoplasmic simulacrum. Which is a way to sort of give more substance to the body by relying on spiritual memory. Without having to get into flesh magic *too*."

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

"Huh?" Eliseo glances down at Ana, then follows where she's looking. They do seem to have drawn some attention. But how would anyone know? "Try not to be paranoid. Who would have told anyone?" He replies in a low voice, trying to sound reassuring. He adds a soft touch to the small of her back.

[Arkhosia]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

"I-I dunno, but-" Ana swallows, glancing about. How could they know? Did the principal's kid hear something about it? Was there someone who overheard them getting caught? She certainly hadn't mentioned it to anyone - but what else could everyone have been staring for?

The kitsune doesn't seem to realize she's started to slow down until Eliseo's touch brings her out of her anxious spiral. "S-sorry, um- I'll try." She lets him guide her to a table... but she still can't help but glance over her shoulder.

[Murkus]

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

"I should be able to provide you with more than ample notes regarding the process of producing and stabilizing ectoplasm as a medium, If you like," Sticks offers. "In fact if the theory I'm seeing here is similar enough to my own research, you could produce an entire stable body from ectoplasm alone. This would require tremendous work and effort, of course... But the bones provide a wonderful base. Much easier and simpler than producing a purely ectoplasmic vessel."

[Reinholdt]

[Project Icarus]

Nahlrae follows, whatever scheming blackmail or treasonous manipulation he has planned remaining hidden behind a stoic, determined expression. Perhaps he will be forced to show off the fruits of Ilpholin's training upon facing the challenge of the too tall for him ladder. Surely some ninja-like moves will come in handy here, running up the rungs at reckless speeds.

Nahlrae tenses, his body coiling to strike and wow. He raises his hands high, stretching his stubby short arms out upright towards Tauron and says... "Up."

[Shadowcaller]

[Project Icarus]

Tauron stops, turns and then just stares at Nahlrae for a moment as if having difficulty processing what was happening.

So unpredictable this child.

Then he will attempt to gently, not something he was particularly used to, scoop him up and carry him over to the tank to carefully place him on the top of it. His myr servitors ready to lend him a limb or two once he's there. They're rather considerate considering they were mindless machines.

[Gullara]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Eliseo is getting a weird vibe, admittedly, but he's doing his best to try and dismiss it. It's got to be nothing, right? He takes a seat alongside Ana and tries to chitchat about something random to take her mind off it. Surely nothing will interrupt them.

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

"That'd help, yeah. It's a bit out of my comfort zone. I definitely wouldn't try it without bones." Then Reilana raises her eyebrow at him. "So does that mean you're helping me for sure?" She wasn't sure she'd gotten a definitely answer.

[Reinholdt]

[Project Icarus]

It's pretty easy to get in with all the help, fortunately. It was just those distant ladder rungs that were dangerous to deal with. Climbing into things is certainly within the three year-old's expertise though and it doesn't take him very long to get into the chamber properly. Those myr servitors somewhat reminded Nahlrae of Mister Squiggles, albeit, decidedly less cute than the monstrous mecha-spider.

[Shadowcaller]

[Project Icarus]

As the myr servitors are helping him up, Tauron decides to speak up again. "Ah, before you dip in. I should mention that I've already submerged your mother's body in there."

That feels like something he could have mentioned earlier.

"Not to worry though, I've made sure to sew her together first so she doesn't contaminate the tank." Which makes it so much better. At least that explains why it took so long for him to get ready.

But assuming that isn't something he finds objectionable, into the tank he goes. The two things he will notice as he's helped down into it is that it isn't filled with water. It seems that blue glow he could see coming from the hatch is produced by the liquid it's filled up with which is as blue as Nahlrae might draw actual water while making crayon paintings.
Second of all is of course the body of Ilpholin which has has its head reattached and is now wrapped up in a plastic cover almost like a modern mummy. He can't make out any of her features through the thick plastic but despite her corpse not nearly being old enough to start to decay yet things she's wrapped in still smells something awful.

Once he's been lowered down the myrs will offer him a breathing mask and gesture for him to put it over his mouth as Tauron starts talking to him again.
"The whole procedure will only take a couple of hours but it will likely feel a lot longer for you due to how you will perceive time during your state of, ah, altered consciousness. It won't be too unlike the chemical reaction which happens inside your brain during sleep though. Of course, as I said, it will feel longer rather than shorter since in this case you will remember all of your dreams as opposed to short portions of them."

[Reinholdt]

[Project Icarus]

How gross. But not entirely unexpected. Ilpholin would have to be hooked up to Nahlrae somehow. Instead of wires or a second tank, this was probably the most efficient and accurate method.

Still gross.

Nahlrae makes no complaints, offers no concerns. He simply puts on the mask as instructed and bathes himself in the blue glowing goo next to his dead mother. Do organics only remember parts of their dreams? Do they not properly store the files? Do they run out of space and need to delete them? Dreams are perhaps the most superfluous devourer of memory space. Barring alternative options, It would be acceptable to remove the unwanted excess to make room for more essential functions. Or one could simply upgrade their core capacity. That sounds much more reasonable.

Nahlrae waves slightly to the myr helper to indicate all is ok on his end.

[Meowmai]

[Fight or Flight]

When she's certain that both Moms are long out of earshot, Atsede turns to Eliseo. "Sheesh. Why are Moms always like this?" She asks, mostly rhetorically. "Though, Irena is like, way more chill than mine. She adds, almost wistfully.

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Atsede Arrived in the cafetaria. In her mind, she always Arrived with a capital A. Heads should turn, girls and boys alike would swoon and wish they were this cool. Of course, reality didn't quite reflect this. She got a few more scowls than she imagined, for one thing, if select people noticed her. If members of the cheer team were gathered, she was privy to a whole array of different glares and glances and gazes. Speaking of, someone who had been clinging to her arm the past few school days was absent. Her current cheer team girlfriend was off sick, but this had only bothered the Changeling for a little while. Other rumors had caught her attention. And as she picked up her food, her eyes scanned for the subject of those rumors.

Ah, there.

The changeling spotted her prey, and strode over with a wide smile. She pulled up a chair across from her two friends, and kicked her feet up on the table- an act that had gotten her told off many times. Atsede scoops up a chip from her plate (of the fries kind, which is acceptable) and took about. "Sup, lovebirds," she said with her mouth half-full. She grinned, almost maliciously, and waited expectantly. Just waited. Like there was something she wanted to talk about that was so obvious, there was no need to even speak it.

[Arkhosia]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Anastasia spots the changeling, and her eyes light up - or at least, they do until she swings by their table and she realizes that smug, knowing glint in her eyes means she's heard something too. "Um- hey Atsede." She swallows. "Not... uh, not much really."

[Gullara]

[Fight or Flight]

"Irena ranges from too chill top not chill at all. She's kinda weird." Eliseo explains with a shrug. "I guess you probably shouldn't stick around too much longer. Wanna grab that pop, though?"

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Okay, what's this look on Atsede's face? Now he definitely suspects there's something going on. He scowls at her. "Okay, out with it. What have you heard?" He tries to think how she could possibly know. There's no way staff would spread that around, right? Maybe someone overheard it being relayed... Or maybe it's something else entirely?

[Shadowcaller]

[Project Icarus]

How gross. But not entirely unexpected. Ilpholin would have to be hooked up to Nahlrae somehow. Instead of wires or a second tank, this was probably the most efficient and accurate method.

Still gross.

Nahlrae makes no complaints, offers no concerns. He simply puts on the mask as instructed and bathes himself in the blue glowing goo next to his dead mother. Do organics only remember parts of their dreams? Do they not properly store the files? Do they run out of space and need to delete them? Dreams are perhaps the most superfluous devourer of memory space. Barring alternative options, It would be acceptable to remove the unwanted excess to make room for more essential functions. Or one could simply upgrade their core capacity. That sounds much more reasonable.

Nahlrae waves slightly to the myr helper to indicate all is ok on his end.

[Project Icarus]

Once he has affirmed that it's working one of the myr's turns away from him and seems to mimic his waving gesture, presumably to Tauron.
As this happens a sound system within the tank activates and Tauron's voice can be heard once more.
"Excellent, everything is in order so far. Next, the tank will be sealed and you will be completely submerged in the liquid. That's when the surgery will begin. Now, as I already warned you, this will be painful but-" A beat as Tauron decides to leave the avenue of how much he would remember of the pain untouched. He had wanted to remember after all. "-are you ready for that?"

Once Nahlrae has confirmed that he is the myrs will seal the tank and then Nahlrae will fall unconscious once he's submerged in the goo.

But despite not truly being awake the next he will feel is how his mind is sliced open as the surgery begins.
As Tauron had promised, it's unlikely he will ever find pain as profound as this one. He knows he's asleep yet is unable to wake up. Like he's drowning just beneath the surface of a lake. His mind aflame yet his body unable to react to it.
Yet he somehow has to endure to this as Tauron connects his mind to his mothers and the shared memory comparison can begin.

[Meowmai]

[Fight or Flight]

"Maybe one day, they'll figure out how to invent a Mom who is entirely chill," Atsede says ruefully. "Probably best, mhm. And yeah, I could kill for that pop." She stretches, putting down the game controller. And then, rubbing at the ice pack pointedly, she added, "and I know exactly who I would kill for it."

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

There's a pause, as Atsede finishes the chip, before reaching for another. She looks between the both of them, smile widening ever so slightly. Surely they wouldn't be reacting like this if nothing had happened, right? Her eyebrow raised at Anastasia. "Not much, huh? That's not what I heard." And then, at Eliseo, she leaned forwards, a little conspiratorially. "Look, I just wanna know, alright? Is it true?" She started, as if she was somehow posing a perfectly innocent question. "Cus I couldn't help but keep overhearing that two students were caught, oh, I don't know, going at it in the bathrooms." She raised her hands, one forming a circle and the other a point, and proceeded to make a rather rude gesturing motion, as if to emphasize her point. It was accompanied by a bit of an eyebrow wiggle, but the huge black bruise across her left eye diminished it's effectiveness somewhat.

[Gullara]

[Fight or Flight]

"Now that sounds impossible. Tell me, are dads any more chill?" Eliseo asks, as though this is a great mystery. He drops the controller and gets up from the seat. "As long as it's not me, I'm down." He grins and leads the way out of the room and down the hall. "On the other hand, you can probably just have it for free."

[Arkhosia]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

"Not what I heard"? Oh gosh, people really had been talking. Ana swallows, eyes glued to Atsede, her face paling with every cheeky little motion and remark the changeling makes - and at the apex of it all, she lights up bright red.

"W-what??! Oh my gods, no! she stammers, her expression one usually reserved for a dead body or your mom finding your amateur attempts at writing spicy fanfic. Burying her face in her hands, she barely manages to eke out, "We weren't - we weren't... going at it, we were just - oh my gosh."

[Gullara]

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Eliseo's eyebrows rocket up. "Okay, what?!" He protests immediately. "We we were not-" He's overlapping with Ana at this point, and he seals his mouth closed until Ana stops. "Who's saying that? We weren't, uh- It's not like that at all." He says finally, with the firmest indignance he can muster. Ignore the rising heat in his face.

[Ironsmith]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

clank!

Sparks fly from the heated metal as the knight pounds its hammer against it, looking over its work with a critical eye before raising the hammer to strike again. It'd been some endeavor, finding back all the pieces of its armor after its ill-fated duel with those goblins. Parts of it, the knight was sure, had been lost entirely, likely swept up in the traffic or blown into the nearby storm drains; the shattered remnants it did find, it would have to supplement with carefully-shaped ingots made from cast iron, a material it could find in abundance (though not necessarily in that form) among the refuse of both this city and Inside. Then it had taken quite a bit more effort to set up this makeshift forge so it could make the needed repairs, and to find a sufficiently wide alleyway to set things up so that it could safely work without having to worry about setting the nearby buildings on fire.

But now that it had, the task itself would be comparatively simple. The knight had done this many times before, both before the great cataclysm and after. And the task itself was putting it in a good mood; there was something nostalgic about hammering metal into shape, recalling the way it had learned and the simpler times surrounding it.

Without thinking about it, the knight's even gone into a mumbled song, one its old Lord used to sing when working with metal, though the words now are going to be garbled by its inhuman voice and the persistent clank of the hammer going to work.

"I thought to make a horseshoe,
And asked my hammer thus,
He said 'I'll ask the anvil,
What you require of us.'
The hammer asked the anvil,
And she at once agreed,
That they should meet together,
In the way that I decreed-"

As quickly and quietly as the song started, it stops. That was entirely too silly. The knight was being self-indulgent with these pleasant memories; there was no joy to be had in its task now. It does not get to have joy. Its only goal is to persist until it can be destroyed properly and bring glory to its slayer.

Nothing more.

The knight is silent as it lifts its newly-restored chest plate, the cracks in it still glowing red from the heat as it examines its handiwork. This would be... serviceable. Not perfect, but good enough for now.

[Arkhosia]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

As the knight ceases its song and studies its craftsmanship, it might slowly become aware that it is being watched. A figure's footsteps cease at a bend in the alleyway - and along with them, the soft and rhythmic tap of a cane against the asphalt. There stands a tall, gangly young thing, a pallid teen with glacial eyes and fairy-floss curls. She cocks her head and raises a brow at the sight in front of her. "Hm - well, I suppose you're not the worst thing I've stumbled across in this alley."

[Ironsmith]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

If the knight's ears were visible, they would have perked up at the sound of a cane tapping not so far away. It practically throws down the armor as it turns to see the source of the noise. Was that who he thought it was? Could it really be, after-

...No. It's not her.

The knight lets out a weary sigh and takes a seat next to the flame-filled barrel it had been using to heat metal, picking up its chestplate and running a grease-stained cloth over its surface. "...That would be a matter of some opinion." It rumbles, tilting up its head so that the teenager can tell it's looking at her. "Though that does beg the question of why you are wandering this alley at all. There are many dangerous things on the streets at night. Do you wish to fall prey to one of them?" The sides of its helmet rattle menacingly as it takes in a sharp breath. This girl should have more sense than that.

[Arkhosia]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

The teenager stiffens a little when the knight snaps around to look up at her, ready to react - and then relaxes herself with the sigh, returning to her usual airy confidence. "oh, I'm not 'wandering' at all," she dismisses, "I know these streets well, and I know exactly where I'm going. Besides, I can talk my way out of most things, and you'd have to be terribly cruel to be dangerous to a frail, delicate waif like me." The girl splays her fingertips against her chest, her voice a cloying sweetness.

"I sure hope you're not planning anything malicious and nasty, at least. It'd be a PR nightmare for you to slaughter a dying girl, and you seem - well, at least a little personable. Are those cracks supposed to be visible?" The girl limps forward as she speaks and leans in to study the chestplate, demonstrating no sense of caution or distrust.

[Ironsmith]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

"Absum forbid." The knight swears solemnly, one arm over its bare, blobby chest and the other up in the air. "I would not take it upon myself to slaughter an innocent girl, much less a... dying..."

The knight's demeanor changes as the words finally hit it, just now seeming to realize exactly what she said. Mercifully, she doesn't allow it to dwell on the subject, and on the subject being changed to its armor, the knight quickly scoops it up and resumes evening out its handiwork. "...They will not be, once it has cooled properly." It explains, resting the plate on its lap as it works. "This is the result of joining many disparate pieces back into a whole. What you are seeing is heat where it has been bound together and is not yet entirely whole."

"...If you do not mind my asking." The knight continues, neck crackling as it looks back up at her. "You seem quite spry for one whose days are numbered. So why do you claim it to be so? Are you ill?"

[Arkhosia]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

"Oh, fascinating - so those are like, cooling welds, then? Sorry, I really don't know much about forging and all that," she admits. The starry studs on her ears seem to shimmer orange in the makeshift forge light as she giggles. "Most people I know are more into bones and swords and other such things, not... well, impromptu post-fight repairs."

"And I say that I'm dying because I am." The teenager leans on her cane rather casually, and there's a humor in her eyes at the way he squirms about the topic. "Cancer, you see. Stage four, nastily persistent. it's all dreadfully boring for someone of your caliber, I'm sure. Still have a few months left though - and, well, it would be a terrible waste of life if I went around moping about it like an unconscionable sadsack now, would it?"

[Ironsmith]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

"...Indeed." The knight agrees, setting the chestplate aside and simply staring at her, gauntlet-covered hands on its knees. "But you are wrong; it is far from boring, to me. I know far too many people who have lost loved ones to illness to dismiss it out of hand. I... almost lost someone I cared for that way, myself."

The knight pauses for a moment, internally debating whether it should elaborate on the subject, before eventually deciding in favor of it. "She was the daughter of a family friend. Born frail and sickly, and for the longest time, so infirm that she could not even leave her bed. But she would never let her illness kill her hope, even as it attempted to smother her to death in the winter months. She would always talk about how she was going to get better, and when she did, she was going to become a knight. She was obsessed with knights." The behemoth chuckles warmly and shakes its head, resting its hand on its chin. "...I do not know what became of her. But I always found her attitude more than a little admirable." The knight gives the girl an approving nod, indicating he extended that pride to her, as well.

[Arkhosia]

[A Less-Dark Alley]

"Really?" Dulcie's eyebrows arch at that. She leans forward, listening quietly to the knight's recollection - and studying it subtly as she does so. "I can see why you would treasure a spirit like that. It's a wonderful outlook to have, in my humble opinion." The way her lips curve suggest there's some joke to the last line that the knight may or may not get.

"I think goals are always important when we're in these dreadful situations, really. You can't expect to endure the constant pains of your wounds if you don't have some dream you're chasing." The teenager leans down to dust some trash off of a discarded crate - then jolts her hand back and shakes it like a dog out of the bath. Eugh!

[Murkus]

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

"That'd help, yeah. It's a bit out of my comfort zone. I definitely wouldn't try it without bones." Then Reilana raises her eyebrow at him. "So does that mean you're helping me for sure?" She wasn't sure she'd gotten a definitely answer.

[Theories of Necromantic Adhesion]

"Of course. I wouldn't be wasting your time otherwise," says Sticks, very mildly inclining his head.

[Meowmai]

[Fight or Flight]

"Now that sounds impossible. Tell me, are dads any more chill?" Eliseo asks, as though this is a great mystery. He drops the controller and gets up from the seat. "As long as it's not me, I'm down." He grins and leads the way out of the room and down the hall. "On the other hand, you can probably just have it for free."

[Fight or Flight]

"Mine isn't." She sighed. "And I hear that if you do get chill dads, you have to deal with... dad jokes." Atsede shuddered exaggeratedly. Stretching, she followed Eliseo. "But that's more boring that way! She mock-protests.

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

"Not what I heard"? Oh gosh, people really had been talking. Ana swallows, eyes glued to Atsede, her face paling with every cheeky little motion and remark the changeling makes - and at the apex of it all, she lights up bright red.

"W-what??! Oh my gods, no! she stammers, her expression one usually reserved for a dead body or your mom finding your amateur attempts at writing spicy fanfic. Burying her face in her hands, she barely manages to eke out, "We weren't - we weren't... going at it, we were just - oh my gosh."

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Eliseo's eyebrows rocket up. "Okay, what?!" He protests immediately. "We we were not-" He's overlapping with Ana at this point, and he seals his mouth closed until Ana stops. "Who's saying that? We weren't, uh- It's not like that at all." He says finally, with the firmest indignance he can muster. Ignore the rising heat in his face.

[Big Trouble - Post Scriptum]

Yes. Atsede looked back and forth between her friends gleefully. Holy shit, their expressions were so good. She held back a laugh as she saw the rising blushes on their faces, at Anastasia's cowering and Eliseo's indignance. "Who? Oh, only like half the class," She addressed Eliseo first, with relish, and then more generally, "Alright, if you weren't going at it, then... what were you doing?" There was some disbelief in her voice towards their protests. "Cus, Eli, I've seen things in your room. I know what you two have been up to!" A dark truth that had she had been ready to take to her grave, had it not been for these extenuatingly hilarious circumstances. "And no way everyone raises this much fuss if you were just smooching!"