STATUS:
@SaltSight Game was Astlibra: Revision. Found it on sale bundled with another game I've been wanting so I gave it a shot and got like, straight indie JRPG of the early 2000s injected into my veins.
3 yrs ago
Current
@SaltSight Game was Astlibra: Revision. Found it on sale bundled with another game I've been wanting so I gave it a shot and got like, straight indie JRPG of the early 2000s injected into my veins.
3
likes
3 yrs ago
Hate that strange ennui that hits after 100%'ing a really, really good game. Good time was had, but man am I glad it can't mess my sleep schedule up anymore.
6
likes
4 yrs ago
Rich people blood sports is how the Oscar's should always have gone. As a hot blooded american man I cant sleep at night without witnessing violence of some kind.
3
likes
5 yrs ago
So true. Anyways, play Lancer!
5 yrs ago
Final Fantasy: Stranger in Paradise is the funniest shit I've ever seen while also not being a bad game. Just crack open some cold ones with the boys, blare Limp Bizket, and Kill Chaos.
While Zouyu was tended to, the weretiger broke into a cold sweat within his sleep. His life teetered for a bit due to the exertion of exhausting his mana pool entirely. He seemed to be caught in some sort of bad dream judging by how, after a bit of his mana returned, he would turn violently in Kaldorna’s lap. When he finally awoke, the weretiger had nearly bitten the vampire in his tossing, a sorry look crossing his face as his ears fell flat against his hair. ”...I’m sorry, Kaldorna. I just wanted to show off and...and then I just made trouble. I’m fine now...also you have a really nice lap,” the gardener would say, chuffing contently as he rubbed his face against Kaldorna’s thighs. He was odd for sure, but he was at least earnest in his apology. He really did intend just to show off, prove his worth, and help out.
Once they returned and Zouyu could walk once more, he would gently hug Kaldorna and smile, saying: ”Thank you, Ms. Kaldorna! If you ever want some extra help on a hunt, gimme a call! I have to go tell Rodias about all these new plants, but it was a lot of fun! Take care! You too, guys!” Zouyu would say before walking off as if he hadn’t just been comatose. Now thankfully the pens had a grazing animal that was worthy of being fed to their beasts. And, with the new edible herbs being grown in the garden, Flan’s cooking would reach a new age of experimentation.
Torture would prove effective, and the jiggling mass of caramel pudding being waved in front of them would certainly break the relatively weak-minded cultists. They wouldn’t have much else to give in exchange, given that they were relatively picked dry for information and teetering on the verge of madness from pain and Light’s aura. Literally nothing of value could be gained, it seemed, beyond the most minute of details to be asked, when, quite suddenly, a scream echoed out from one of the cultists. Specifically, the one that had been embraced by Light. It was an inhuman, gurgling sound, the like of which could be attributed to no beast upon this earth, even in its death throes.
The very flesh upon his skin curled upwards, flaking off rapidly as if something was clawing its way out from inside of him. And, it seemed as if something was as his very ribs pierced his flesh, bone splintered apart from bone, twisted amongst flesh and engorged itself on blood and cannibalized more flesh as he became something...distinctly inhuman. Something far, far from the realms of sanity. His eyes would become dark, yet shone from deep within with a light beyond understanding, beyond rationale, beyond memory or instinct that could ever be fathomed. And now, he was a true monster.
Gromgard, experienced in battle could already sense something was wrong as the mutation started, and in spite of efforts to slay him as he was chained up each wound that may have been inflicted would be swallowed by tides of flesh and bile that replaced it. Within a moment he would lash out, rancid nails that had become coated in his blood raking across the face of his neighbor cultist, rending his face apart and slashing a line through his brain, slaying him instantly.
Struggling against his bindings, he would moan in guttural, primal noises as his free hand swung for Light, the void-being proving plenty agile enough to dodge away from the grasp of her devotee.
The remaining cultist had soiled himself in fear, wailing and sobbing in madness as he flailed against his bindings, trying to escape from this hell. If something wasn’t done fast, he might turn out just like his companions...either dead, or very, very much something inhuman.
For seven days and seven nights, Chuunitrixx was silent; locked in her room, her Chapter torn from the Book, and all but burned. It was Socrates that ran the show, as he was tasked to do. At first, he was solely swamped with damage control, as the Alpha Survivors rioted within Enderall; the opulent city a mess of explosions and gunfire, magic and melee, as they destroyed in accordance with Chuunitrixx's divine turmoil bringing it back to its old ruin.
Gamma, Epsilon, Beta, and Delta were too far away to be wholly affected by her misery and hatred, but without her Chapter attached, Socrates had to send Messengers to rush the near-to marathon, and inform them of their tasks and their loss.
And, all hell threatened to break loose.
Deprived of their Ascendant, each of the Villages went on a form of mourning and strike and became of ghost towns; choking the Chateau of its steadily growing surplus of material and coin. Due to the mouths to feed, it would be immediately noticeable by Flan, as she ran out of surplus of outside fish, veggies, fruits, meats, and herbs to cook with, and had to fall back on what the Chateau could provide from its bestiary and gardens within the week; as well as by the Treasury as the coinage was immediately choked when Beta ceased their clandestine trade operations.
Sighing, Socrates summoned Plato, Aristotle, Leonidas, and Alexander to the Chateau, and called for an audience before Rodias. ”I take it these are your brothers, then?” Rodias asked, looking at the arrival of the fivesome. He was immediate in meeting with them, seeing as he already needed to speak to Chuunitrixx directly.
“Who the hell are you calling a brother!? You trying to say something!? You wanna go, little Dhampyr!? I’ll show you a brother in a minute!” roared an absolute Amazon of a woman; tall, yet lithe, and shredded from the shoulders down -- truly, her face was her only femine features, beyond her breasts, which were shrunk to simulate her strength-oriented existence. A lasso noosed about her neck, however, as another woman, one that screamed of regality and command, chuckled. “Relax, Leonidas. He’s a fledgeling among titans. He’s yet to grow into his role,” she says, “Alexander’s my name; King, but semantics. I watch over Beta as Overseer, and all pursuits of Rangerhood. That firecracker is my sister, Leonidas, and she’s the Overseer in charge over Delta and Warriorhood. Socrates speaks highly of you.”
A small, bishie walked up to Rodias, and extended their hand. “Plato, at your service. I’m charmed,” they says, as Rodias could not decide if the extremely androgynus being was male or female. However, the one that stood next to Plato might have pushed that even further into confusion, as they were almost beat for beat in design. Twins, perhaps. Or, worse, twin traps. “Aristotle's the name. I am the Overseer of Epsilon and all things Alchemical, and that is my equal, the Overseer of Gamma and all things Spellcrafting. And, yes, we’re both male. If you are uncomfortable with that, truly, I do apologize, but... deal with it,” he smiled, looking, simultaneously, like the cutest girl and the most precious boy.
“And, of course, you know me well, my Hollow Lord. But, I am Socrates, Overseer of Alpha, and I dictate the movements of all at the express wish and whim of my Lady,” says the infamous nightmare of a Mimic, discarding the guise of an old man, for a much younger, pretty boy look with a voice as smooth as chocolate.
Rodias seemed actually pleasantly surprised that whatever rudeness he encountered was magnitudes lower than the type that Socrates embodied. He’d admittedly made a mistake assuming that just because they all had male names meant that they were all male, but still, a brute’s threats was significantly easier to brush off than a sociopath’s schemes. Rodias would cordially accept the handshake, while also being confused about two things. One...Socrates spoke highly of him? Since when? And, two...he didn’t really care whether Plato and Aristotle were male or not. He’d assumed they were from the start, and figured that, on average, in a group of five at least two were bound to be male. Or female. It just seemed to be how group dynamics worked. Socrates being younger didn’t change Rodias’ perception of him however. And he doubted that people on his level would behave much better to begin with. Rising from his throne, Rodias would ask: ”So, what did you all need to speak to me about?”
“Sit, sit, Hollow Lord, ours, do not stand on our humble account, Socrates smiled, “We’ve come to report to you, not you to us. So, do stay seated. Besides, you’ll need the support...” Socrates tossed his arms out to his sides, a flair for the drama, and grinned, “As of this point forward, Chateau Gothika is cut off from the Necropolis Project!”
”Oh really?” Rodias questioned, not seeming all that surprised. ”And what next? What other stupendous news do you bring that serves some goal of your’s that I’ll only know of after I lash out? And, better yet, why am I being told through surrogates rather than from my ‘best friend’?” Rodias questioned, clearly done playing Socrates’ games.
“He mocks us! He belittles us! He! He! GAH!” Leonidas roared, straining against her leash, as she slammed her fists into the table. “He knows not what he says, Leo. Relax. Let Socrates do the talking. That’s his function,” Alexander says.
Socrates noded, and smiled at Alexander; then, he returned to Rodias. “My Hollow Lord, it is unbecoming to sully My Lady, when she, herself, is unawares. I called this meeting, I arranged this court, and this, you pompous, little child, is my show,” he says, his entire tone and demeanor darkening beyond anything he’d displayed, “Do not use your friendship with Lady Traptrixx nor Lady Chuuntrixx as a weapon before me. You have not yet begun to see the depth of hell I will put you through, if you make her cry again. I restrained myself with Graft, and did not pillage his Dominion to the ground, because this Chateau cannot afford such a substantial loss of resources... yet, you did nothing to him, about him, but placate, I bet. Because, you do just that,” he narrowed his tone to a razor’s edge, “You kill me out of hatred for your own weakness, your own failures, and your own inability. You are a Hollow Lord, allowing the misactions of one to stand, and the actions of another to fail; slaughtering anyone that forces you to confront that reality. Do not speak of friendship, when you have shown so little in kind. A surrogate I may be, but Lady Traptrixx is my mother, before you are ever my leader...”
...Socrates took a fake breath, and broke into a smile, “But, that’s all water under the bridge, dear Lord of Mine, because I’ve had a week to think, and I’ve decided to restart supply runs. Why? Because, I can, mainly, and because, I want something, and you need supplies. Try as you may, you aren’t getting anything substantial out of dear, sweet Mamoru’s skeletons or lumbering, old Gromgard’s gobbies, are you? Too monster to be seen and ignored by those humans out there. Unlike us. Yes, we really do want to help you, but we need your help, too. Aristotle, if you would...”
Aristotle, assisted by Plato, with comically oversized guidecards, explained, in great detail, how Chuunitrixx could come to lay eggs, and create new species within the boundaries of Enderall’s Mimic Support System. “As you can see, we just need DNA, but... we’re fresh out of Human. Tch! I know, I know, you wanna say, “Bummer, Soc. Try your luck elsewhere, freak,” don’tcha? Well, here’s the deal: Help us regain out Ascendant, and Chateau Gothika receives 75% of all supplies to COIN, and as a bonus, you are made Honorary Chairman of the Project -- refuse, and you gain 25%... nah, I’ll say, 10% of the supplies, and I’ll continue to make your life a living hell, only on purpose, now,” Socrates says.
Rodias didn’t seem to react all that much to Socrates’ outbursts, at this point knowing that he spoke in deceptive half truths that by and large felt designed to provoke a response. The statement of how he’d made this meeting himself was indicative of something wrong beyond the fact that Enderal was now disconnected from the Elevator system. Rodias had in truth planned to barge in himself in about an hour, but this procession before him presented itself as an opportunity. Taking steps forward, Rodias would poise his hand underneath his chin. ”I take it then that you have specific individuals in mind? A project like this would usually demand the best quality genetics. And, I’m assuming you’re unwilling to use the ‘guests’ being tortured in Gromgard’s chambers?” Rodias questioned.
“But, of course. Although... Nah... you wouldn’t do that. You take everything seriously..” Socrates’s face unfolded, as he smiled beyond human limits.
”You know, you’re horrible at baiting people. Just tell me what it is you’re thinking of. Or rather, what you already intend for me to do,” Rodias said, interrupting. He clearly had no patience for games.
“He is catching on. He might be worthy, yet,” Alexander says.
“I don’t think so,” Socrates says. “5%. That’s what this meeting has earned you, my Not-So-Hollow Lord,” he stood straight, “My dear Overseers, we shall simply have to press on without our Ascendant, as they Chateau must without ample supply. Each month, upon the fourth day that ends the Human’s concept of a week, a supply carriage will be sent to Kaldorna and Zouya, as the Groundskeepers, they will handle the transfer towards the COIN. Everything else will be stockpiled within Enderall, as surplus for our useage.”
“Hm, I dare say then, we are adjourned. I do hope the carriage ride back isn’t dreadful,” Plato yawned. “Before that, I’m famished. Is the kitchen open,” Aristotle asks, looking at Rodias.
”The kitchen should be open. Flan prepared breakfast, and served more than enough. Feel free to have a eat down there and eat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have humans to find,” Rodias stated, giving a slight bow before heading towards the window and opening it. ”What are you specifically looking for?” he asked, seemingly completely ignoring the fact that Socrates just told him the deal was off.
In the time it took for Rodias to remove, direct, and redirect his attention to the window and back to the Mimic Overseers, they were gone; all that remained her piles of Sentry parts, drained of all their essence. There was a possibility... they’d never been truly been in the room. However, one thing was true: there was no deal.
That much, Rodias had expected. But that didn’t matter right now. The thought of doing anything for Socrates disgusted him, but the reality of it was that he wasn’t doing it for him. Chuunitrixx was losing control, and doing this would probably help her retain a better grip on her civilization. As such, Rodias would dive from the top floor of the Chateau and run along the length of the building, vanishing from sight in complete daylight as the shadows themselves seemed to envelop him.
Within an hour, covered in slight splatters of blood and wearing the remnants of a cultist outfit from Gromgard’s torture room, he would return, having attacked numerous people and gathered samples of their DNA after knocking them out, or slaying them outright. Admittedly, he could have killed all of them...but this could work in his favor as well. The more unrest there was about the cultists, the more the local lord would be pressured to do something.
Walking up the stairs from the fifth chapter to the sixth, Rodias was aware that the chamber being disconnected meant that such access was impossible for him as a Sable Lord, at least in a traditional way. However, there was always another way. A way that couldn’t be ignored from the old rules set by YGGDRASIL.
”Set code alarm: Chapter 5 has been passed.” Rodias said simply, before the entirety of the Chateau would be made aware of an intruder upon the Sixth Chapter. Alone, Rodias would invade the Chapter, and deliver the DNA samples himself to Chuunitrixx in the midst of the riot. Immediately after his entry the alarm would shut down, signifying that it was either a false alarm, or something as simple as an insect just happening to luck its way through a window and up to Chapter 6.
Rodias couldn’t be registered as an opponent, so he bypassed any threats, and came to the sound of crying, a kettle whistling, and a masculine soothing the feminine crying with niceties.
Thankful that he wouldn’t have to harm any of the mimics, Rodias would approach the source of feminine crying quietly, initiating his Stealth Skill to make sure he wasn’t intruding at an inopportune time. ”Chuunitrixx…?” he would think in his approach.
“Here, my Lady, drink,” Socrates sighed, “You’ve cried enough tears. The threat of Graft is dealt with. Rodias is... difficult. He’s, like, Lady Traprixx was. Lost. Hm...” Chuunitrixx sniffed, and let her head drop onto her kitchenette table. “This was a bad idea, Socky. You, Leo, Alex, Plu, and Tole... you guys are trying so hard just to make me happy, because... Lady Traptrixx left me a mission to protect Rodias... she sighed, “Now, I’ve fucked everything up. Plu stuck in the cold with stupid monsters. Tole’s got a whole army behind him. Leo and Alex might lose Units, to help them, and they’ll be weakers. I thought... if I made the Ascendants... I could show a force of power... Rodias would stay put, stay safe... but, I didn’t... plan it... How do you do it, Socrates? Plan things? Play people? Be so bold?”
“I’m immortal. I don’t fear dying, even though I can. I don’t fear being murdered, even though I can be. I don’t have to think about things, beyond what you ask of me, my Lady. Myself, Leo, Alex, Plu, Tole... we want to make you happy, and we want to see what Lady Traptrixx’s fondest hope, and only daughter, can do when she’s really trying,” Socrates says, “So, c’mon, Grandma! Chin up! We have things to do!”
“I’m not a Grandma, Socky! I’m still young and fresh and my hinges don’t squeak at all!” Chuunitrixx whined. Socrates was cracking up, Well, you’re my Grandma, and I love you, and your occasionally squeaky hinges! Now, sit up, and I’ll make you another cup of coffee. I’ll set out two. We’ve company. Don’t we, my Lord?”
Rodias was getting really tired of somehow being spotted by people infinitely less proficient in stealth than he was. Made him wonder why he bothered investing in the skill so much if it just made him somehow easier to spot sometimes. ”Not if you don’t desire company,” Rodias said plainly, still hidden behind the corner.
Rodias tended to forget, he was INSIDE A LIVING BEING.
“Come in. Surely, you’ve come for a reason to use such a brute force approach,” Socrates says, as he walked to Rodias. “Do you yet understand why I ended our meeting,” he asks, pouring the kettle of coffee, “or, does the reasoning still elude you, my Not-So-Hollow Lord?”
”Frankly, I’m not good enough at guessing to have known it at the time. But, now, I think I do. You can stay if you’d like.” Rodias said, moving slowly and with gentle steps he would sit before Chuunitrixx, smiling in a way that no one in the Chateau had seen. The usually serious Sable Lord looked...peaceful. Almost serene in his countenance. ”Hi, Chuunitrixx. Its been a while,” he would say.
“You were here yesterday, though...” Chuunitrixx says.
”Was I? I guess, time just keeps on slipping away from me,” Rodias would say, taking a ginger sip of his cup of coffee.
Chuunitrixx chuckled, "Are you okay, she slipped her own cup.
Rodias looked down at his cup and chuckled. ”I feel awful. But, I know that you’re hurting worse.”
"What do you mean," Chuunitrixx asks. "You have so much more on you plate to worry about that me being stupid and overreacting...
”I have a lot to worry about. But, that’s not what makes me feel awful. I’m not cut out to be anyone’s lord. I can’t even help my best friend.” Rodias said, running his hand over his belt and producing four vials of human blood, staring at them. ”...Just like before. And the time before that. And the time before that. And even the first time. I keep letting everything and everyone slip away from me. All I do is lash out at things I dislike and hope that earns approval.” Rodias said, clenching his left hand.
"Not true! You can lead us! You just gotta wanna enough, right? That's how it works, yeah? Like, Socky says," Chuunitrixx says, looking a bit scared. "Lord Rodias, you have to lead us, because you are the only one left. Everyone else is gone. If you don't... what will happen to us?"
”Don’t worry, Chuunitrixx. I’ve no intention of running away,” Rodias would say, chuckling slightly at her worrisome tone. ”No rogue, thief, or assassin just gives up what he treasures. Nobody can steal this place away from me. But, that just means that I need to be better.”
"Then, what... do I do..." Chuunitrixx asks. "I don't know, if I can stop what I started, but, maybe, if you tell me what I should be doing?"
”Then, I’ll have to do just that. I need to be firmer with everyone. But, you have to promise me something. I don’t want you to do things that you come to cry over. We need to pull back on expansion for the time being. I understand that your mimics have worked hard...harder than maybe anybody in the Chateau to survive out here. But we don’t need to bring everything in all at once. We can build up; Expand once we’re ready, and can ensure that casualties are the last of our worries. Does that sound fair?” Rodias would question.
"Do I need to bring everything back," Chuunitrixx asks, unsure if she was going to lose or keep her Villages, as they were.
”No, though I do feel like Gamma will need to be moved back a fair bit. Beyond those beasts, I don’t see continued value in having the mimics risk their lives out there. Is that agreeable?”
"I was just going to murder then all," Chuunitrixx says.
"Moving them back is agreeable, my Lord," Socrates chuckled.
”They’d make more effective war beasts in time, than dead carcasses. In addition, I feel that the South should pull back just enough to not have that army you were concerned about poking their heads into suspicious business. As far as we know though, East and West are safe,” Rodias said.
“That is equally agreeable. I have no desire to see Plu or Tole awaken here,” Socrates says.
Rodias would slide the vials of blood forward to Chuunitrixx. ”In addition, I hand-selected individuals that might...replace the genetic samples you lost for your eggs. But, I won’t force you to use them.”
Chuunitrixx turned crimson, “How did you know that!?”
”Its hard, keeping secrets from a rogue,” Rodias slyly joked, figuring that he would have Socratees in a bit of a debt to him by not answering that he basically explained it to him.
Socrates smirked. Rodias did have some wile to him. Not bad, at all. He looked out the window. “I’m going to restore the Chapter. I’m bored of the silence. Mayhaps, Lady Kath will visit,” he says.
”That’s good, then. Chuunitrixx, are you going to be okay?” Rodias would question, reaching out and softly laying his only unblooded hand on her cheek. ”You’re bright red.”
“I’m fine! Baka!” Chuuntrixx shouted, hiding her face in her jacket.
Rodias snickered, unable to contain his laughter. ”Easy as always, Chuunitrixx. I’ll be heading out. Do what you want with the samples. I’m...glad we talked,” Rodias would say, finishing his coffee and making his way to the door slowly.
“Nnnnn!” Chuunitrixx squealed, and Rodias could hear a bolt-action loading noise. Slow might not be the best speed to move in.
Judging from the sound of bullets clinking against the floor, it was the perfect speed, as he had stolen every piece of Chuunitrixx’s ammunition, all for a practical joke. ”Missing something?” he would question with a smirk, letting Chuunitrixx finally realize that he’d tucked a single bullet behind her ear.
Chuunitrixx puffed her cheeks, and inhaled a cloud of green, toxic smoke.
Rodias would just calmly leave, gingerly patting Socrates’ shoulder on the way out. ”You slipped, by the way. You called me Lord, without any part attached,” he would tease, before ascending the stairs back to the Climax Hour.
“You earned it, this time, along with your 5%. I will honor our deal, and see if your earnings may grow, my Lord Chairman...” Socrates says, ‘You weren’t wrong, however. I do want specific DNA, for specific reasons,” he says, “Until the next meeting, my Unhollowed Lord.”
As soon as Rodias reached his throne, and pulled off his cape, he would have a piece of paper skitter out; a Mimic, probably a Proxy, with writing on it:
[I do nothing without reason, request nothing without reason, and I seek only the outcome most befitting the wish of my Grandmother, and my Great-Grandmother; she, you call a friend. I test you, because I am, and intend to, until you are fit to act with purpose, and no hesitation.
However, that is neither here, nor there. I’ve taken into account the geographical location and the overall state of the Villages. 100% Human-based Ascendants will be less than optional, so here’s a new test for you.
I want these specific samples:
Zouyu, as Beta is a forested area, and a tiger is greatly at home within such a locale.
Flan, for Gamma’s harshness will be lessened against her nature.
Kaldorna, for Epsilon is backed into a corner, and Vampires excell at escaping those.
And, I will leave you to choose: Delta is a mountainous reign of vast height, so Gromgard or Mamoru, as they are the sturdiest amongst us all.
I will hold no decision against you, for this is your right as Sable Lord; however, make your choice with impunity, as you cannot deceive me easily.]
Rodias smiled, knowing full well how easy of a task such a thing would be. Save for maybe getting a piece of Flan’s genetic code, since she was lacking in actual hair that he could simply sneak up and harmlessly get a sample of. Frankly, this test was beyond simple. And that made him wonder if it was really even a test at this point, and not busywork. Folding the note into his pocket, Rodias would smile as he thought:
”What a fucking dick.”
However, something unexpected would have occured. One thing that neither Rodias, nor Chuunitrixx, nor Socrates could have expected. One of the genetic samples he’d gotten was exceptionally pure...as if it was from a being that most certainly wasn’t human. Or at least wasn’t wholly human.
Socrates held the samples, taking them to a basement storage, as Chuunitrixx recovered from her absolute embarrassment. As he reached the lowest floor, he unbuttoned his shirt, and opened his chest; stowing the sample away, and removing one that he’d... liberated... from a captive. It wasn’t hard, as he was still digesting the woman. It was as plain as the others, and would serve as a fine enough base.
Putting the samples with others, but to their own side, he patted his corpse of a heart, before closing his chest, and boarded the elevator... unveiling a panel, and going to an unmapped subasement.
Socrates had plans of his own...
Perhaps, this interesting blood was the keystone to starting them off.
In the dead of night, two lay dead, and one was left standing, spear in hand with a massive gash bleeding crimson out into the black night. His breaths were shallow, his legs were growing weak, and his vision blurry. Blood was coating his side from his wounds, and, in a desperate charge he would run forward, only to be met with shadows swallowing his spear, rather than his enemy. The next thing he knew, shadows would swallow his conscious mind, until the light of day awoke him once more, wound having since sealed...by some manner. No bandages covered his body, and though the wound had vanished, a gargantuan scar remained in its place.
It was like this that Mars awoke in the woods, cursing himself as he looked at the bodies of two travelers that he had scarcely known; One, a wandering alchemist, and the other a son of the general store owner. In the dead of night on his patrol he had found them dead by some assassin. Narrowing his eyes at his side, Mars wondered...hadn’t he been attacked too?
Regardless, he had to get back. He had to warn everybody that...something, or someone dangerous had entered the area.
Act II: Blood and Amber
For those of you that are still tending to business in Act I, make sure to tag the post with Act I or Act II depending on what part you’re focusing on. If you don’t, I’m going to assume that its keeping up with Act II.
With the resource issues being addressed through a mixture of scavenging, harvesting, and hunting, every department of the Chateau would be performing...well enough. They were nowhere near the fullest extent of their capacity. Graft’s factory would be lacking in enough resources to mass-produce any of the large-scale projects he had in mind, Flan’s kitchen would have enough spices stretched out to last for roughly half a month, and Kaldorna’s beasts would be a tad hungry, but able to all be kept without the need to slaughter or free any. That was before the 5% offered by the scouts of Enderall, which enabled each facility to return to normal functionality for the most part. Graft needed more advanced materials than the kind gained from surface level scavenging, but Rodias would have assured him by now that he’d a plan in mind to rectify that. The details of which he would wait until the end of the week to reveal.
Having once more called a meeting for the prominently powerful within the Chateau with the exception of Charme, Rodias would wait until each were present, a pleasant smile on his face as he greeted each attendee in full. Rodias would be waiting patiently at his throne, the table in the center of the room laid bare, save for a simple map already sketched up on a piece of parchment. It was clear that the village of Amberden down below was mapped upon it, but in addition there was a piece of property well into the distance, a town that had long since been made contact with via Chuunitrixx’s Beta units, and Mamoru’s numerous clones with a large red X crossed into one area.
”Now, with all in attendance, I’d like to reveal to you all what I’ve been considering over the past week. The village of Amberden below is an area prime for the taking. Its resources, as Graft has found, would serve far better in our hands than in their local lords’. The fool doesn’t even keep it fortified enough to ward off some simple cultists. As such, I’ve decided that it is best for us to...liberate them. Bring them under our protection. Sadly, as far as Kath, Mamoru, and Chuunitrixx have found, if I were to just publicly come out as I am, people would be afraid. As such, we’ll be taking a different approach.”
Leaning forward, Rodias would lay out a rather adorable looking wooden doll, painted and carved in a very chibi, ball-headed version of his own likeness. He...got bored easily. Setting it in the position of the Chateau, he would then lay out another one in the likeness of Mars, planting it on the village, then, another, this time bearing resemblance to the middle-aged, somewhat portly lord of the town in the farther away manor located in another town. ”We’re going to overtake his title. It should be simple enough...but we can’t rush this. I’ve been weighing our options for a while, and this is by far the best method we have to garner resources without picking a fight. As such, we’ll dispose of the Lord, and leave in his place a surrogate. A younger relative, since if he suddenly started acting differently around colleagues, people would grow suspicious.”
@Stern Algorithm@Lugubrious Placing yet another doll down, this time in the likeness of Salem, he would continue. ”Using Salem’s abilities, and Graft’s surveillance bodies, we’ll be capable of having Amberden completely in our pocket,” he would say, planting Graft down beside Amberden, and moving Salem over to the lord’s manor, before using his piece to knock the lord’s over. Then, Rodias would reveal the depths of how much of a hobby he’d made this by producing dolls of each member of the Chateau, save for the skeleton butlers, shrine maidens, factory workers...basically, everyone that was named had a piece that was present. ”To make sure this goes off without a hitch, we’re going to need to cast our nets a bit wide. Mamoru, judging from what we’ve learned from Kath’s investigation, draconic humanoids aren’t uncommon in this world. As such, I’d like to ask you to infiltrate his manor as a new hire, and find out everything you can from the inside,” Rodias would say, laying Mamoru’s piece down beside Salem’s. ”...Oh, and it slipped my mind, but do call Bone Daddy back. I don’t think he needs to keep that area supervised any longer.”
@Rockin Strings@Xaltwind ”Next, Gromgard, Ashara.” Rodias would say, moving their dolls to the south east, near the heavily forested areas that Bone Daddy had guarded, and that Gromgard had previously chased his artist underlings to. ”If we’re going to establish ourselves as being benefactors of the people, then we need to ensure their safety. I’m sure the locals are already up in arms about the cultist’s continued attacks. As such, I’d like you two to find and root out their base of operations. It has to be somewhere near here, judging from the information we squeezed out of our ‘guests’. There’s also a good opportunity for you, Gromgard, to try and find out if there are any goblins native to this world residing there.”
@DracoLunaris ”Kaldorna. Zouyu. You two were extremely successful in your last hunt. As such, I’d like for you two to lead another expedition...albeit, this time its going to be to the south west. We need a variety of materials and beasts to be found, both to sustain our stomachs, and to research the science of this world. And, this time, don’t over-exert yourself. Every life here is irreplaceable, as far as we know,” the Sable Lord said as he moved their pieces together down and to the left of the village.
@Guess Who ”Kath. I’ll need you to enter the city the lord is residing in, and try and figure out anything you can. And, this time, try and suppress your level with False Data spells. Last time we were lucky that someone powerful didn’t try and attack you. This time, you ought to blend in a bit with those spells,” Rodias said as he slid Kath’s piece over to the city.
”Light. I know that you’ve been extremely bored lately...but I have a special job for you. The Lord’s death has to look like an accident. And, I think that if he were to fall out a window after we’ve cemented a false heir, that might work out perfectly. For now though, I need you here.” With that said, Light’s piece would be moved beside Rodias, a slight smile crossing his lips. ”I’ll entertain you, until the time comes. I’ve need of a sparring partner. And, I’m more than inclined to play with you, if you so wish. I’ll need about an hour break every now and again from your aura, but I should be able to resist it more than most.”
@IceHeart ”Flan. I imagine that with all the new materials you’ve acquired, you’d like to be able to give them a stir in your kitchen. As such, I’d like for you to experiment on creating new dishes, as well as finding different ways of preparing the ingredients. Zouyu’s gardens are currently set to be harvestable soon, so feel free to use up whatever plant stock you desire. Feel free to ask me to test them, as well...if you wish, that is,” Rodias said, trying hard to restrain his overwhelming desire to just sample new foods by Flan immediately. Business had to be done.
@Xaltwind ”Isolde, I need your ESPER Wings in the air, as stealthily as they can manage. I’d like to get a bird’s eye view of the local area, and at present, your ESPERS are the best equipped to provide such a view,” The Sable Lord said, looking to Isolde and, representatively, moved her piece to represent the ESPERs movement’s outwards.
@Enkryption ”Chuunitrixx, we’re going to need whatever mimics your camps can spare on high alert in the area from Amberden to the city to the east. That powerful individual is as of yet unknown to us, and we need all the information we can manage. Your mimics are perfect for a job like this,” Rodias said, positioning Chuunitrixx’s doll between Amberden and the city. "Oh, and, please do make sure that Plato and Aristotle recieve my orders for Gamma and Epsilon.
Looking up to the crowd before him, Rodias would ask: ”Now, are there any questions? I’m all ears.”
It wouldn’t be long after his briefing that Rodias would make good on his promise, personally coming to deliver the samples of rotted wood, dirt, stone, and somehow managed to fit it all inside of the elevator. It was designed to accommodate the Chateau’s largest guild members after all, so the lanky lord scarcely took up room within.
”I figured you would want these delivered as soon as they were ready. Zouyu volunteered to come, but I wasn’t sure how you felt about him. Seems a bit too energetic for you. But, you can feel free to ask him to grow herbs for you,” Rodias would say, rolling the carts in himself. Thankfully at his level, even with minimal strength such things were a trifle.
My apologies, meant to write up the update post today but needed to help my mom for a few hours, so the day went away from me. I'll try and get the update out Wednesday at the earliest. Thank you all for your patience.
I was just thinking, since in Overlord the Floor Guardians refer to their creators by their in-game name in full with seriousness, how exactly would Mamoru pronounce {| || || |_}? Loss his the name others will call him because typing his name out is annoying, but Mamoru wouldn't do that. Would she basically say "Bracket-Vertical Line Vertical Line-Vertical Line Vertical Line-Vertical Line Vertical Line-Underscore Bracket"?
I'm planning for my next post to be a bit of a time skip just so Salem isn't stuck languishing in the past. I wanted to know what juicy pieces of information have become common knowledge, specifically:
1.The tiff between Graft and Chuunitrixx (are people gossiping about this, or are the involved parties keeping mum?) 2. Rodias' intent to replace the nobility of Amberden
Assuming the vermin replicates have been created and implanted with Salem's eyes, Salem will have spent a good amount of time watching the town. Being bored, Salem will have begun remodeling part of the City of Lost Things (just rearranging houses and such) to fit the layout of Amberden, creating a 'simulation'. Salem will then plan to invite Kath, Ashara, and Rodias to 'marvel' at the replica. Whether or not Salem knows that Rodias plans to usurp the duke or whatever, having a layout of the town would help with infiltration.
1. isn't really a "tiff", I'd say its more like, a meltdown on one end and a callous dismissal on the other. But, it would definitely get people talking. Especially since Kath was involved.
2. Rodias' plan is until the update going to be known only to Charme. But, if you want, you could have Salem infer that given the focus on espionage Rodias is taking. Despite being a sneaky rogue, Rodias isn't very subtle.
Unique Fault: Tunnel Vision. Put simply, once Korra sets her mind to do something, nothing will stop her short of a concussion or a message from the heavens. She’s single mindedly determined to a fault, and that’s why she wound up popping K2’s prison...all to deliver a package to her from someone.
Introduction (written in first-person): “Ooookay so um...I really just wanna say that I’m really, really, really, really, really, really sorry about breaking that bubble but...like...I got packages to deliver, y’know? Deadlines to meet? Its not MY fault that nobody let me in the door. People gotta sign for these things, y’know? Anyways, so, I totally messed up, tripped, bonked my head on the floor, and sent a package sailing right at a princess’ bubble prison. Is prison too strong a word? Whatever, anyways, a big bug lady started screaming at me. And here I am! You’re all like, super lucky to have me by the way. No, seriously. I’m THE BEST at my job. Union is gonna flip when they find out I changed employers!
When it comes to first rate delivery service, I’m number 1! Oh, and ignore the knives...letter openers. I swear!”
Race Skills: Ratatoskr’s Duty: Whether it be hail or sleet or snow, no natural conditions exist that can impede the physical mobility of a Ratatoskr clan member.
Messenger of the Gods: Born into a bloodline of divine messengers, Ratatoskrites are deeply connected with divinity itself. They are resistant to most unholy curses, and are somehow particularly good at slipping past dragons due to the exploits of their ancestor.
Climbing Tusk: Ratatoskr are notorious for their ability to climb virtually any surface, regardless of whether its a sheer 90 degree angle, or a thin smooth pole. So long as Korra can grab onto a surface, even by just digging her nails into it, she can climb up it without issue.
Class Skills: Master of Unlocking: Those who follow the path of the Rogue are capable of disabling traps, picking locks, and generally avoiding danger and seeking treasure in ways outside the conventional means of smash and grab.
Silent Steps: The footfalls of a rogue are the quietest in the world, and so long as they aren’t burdened with bulky armor or heavy loads, they’re almost undetectable while out of sight.
Stabby Stabby: Rogues are notoriously good at having back-seeking-strikes, capable of dealing huge amounts of damage to distracted enemies by striking at vital areas.
Guild Skill:
Etheria Letter Tracker: Any [Message] spell that is delivered through Korra's route is made aware to her, and can be intercepted without interruption or Etheria Letter Carrier: By no external force, beyond attack on herself, can any [Message] spell sent by Korra be delayed or disrupted, slipping around all defenses.
Address Specific: Korra’s skills as a postal worker have awoken in her a sort of sixth sense that allows her to identify instinctually if someone really is who they say they are...so long as she has a package or message due for them. She can know with 100% certainty as to whether or not someone is an imposter, or an illusion in the specific instance of making a delivery.
Next-Day-Delivery: Through some bizarre divine, or unholy magic, Korra is fully capable of sustaining her body without sleep, so long as she makes a successful delivery every 24 hours. Upon delivering a package, her stamina is completely restored, but any injuries she may have had will not be healed without magical means or just waiting to heal from medicine or rest.
The footsteps of the Sable Lord would echo out onto the factory floor as he stepped free of the elevator, striding forward while holding the second chest containing the remnants of Chuunitrixx’s shattered eggs. Figuring that Socrates’ presence would stir hostility if he just barged in, Rodias figured it would be best to petition a guard for a meeting with the factory director.
Turning his head back towards Socrates while he waited, Rodias would say: ”So, tell me...what’s your game? No, really. You're probably the most impossible to imagine thing ever being birthed from Enderal.”
"Enderall" Socrates says, clearly irked by the mispronunciation. "As for me, I am but a humble manifestation of a meager facet of the grand complexity of my Lady," he says, "Like a grandchild, to put in simple terms, seeking to do grandly by his Grandmother, and make his Mother proud of him." Socrates smirked, "If you hate me, you'll love my brothers."
Rodias would note, he never answered the question; simply spoke around it, and deflected with a masterful, and cheeky, sidenote.
Only a couple moments after the two entered, a well-placed wall fixture slid open to extend a bulbous, membranous organ that wiggled in the intruders’ direction. After a brief period of appraisal it seemed to tense up, and it began to emit a resounding, hair-raising howl. It wasn’t loud, but it carried through the facility, and a handful of seconds later Guards appeared, zeroing in on the alert’s origin point from various directions. They looked agitated, keeping their weapons at the ready but not leveled. The ground started shaking even before the last of the Guards appeared, a Team Lead. While not that much larger than the average Guard, his armored exoskeleton was far thicker, heavier, and of higher quality. Several articulate tentacles, like those of his boss’s, extended from him, and the unblinking triple-lense he bore instead of a face fixed attentively on Rodias and Socrates.
Doot doot doot doo, doo-doot doot doot!
The sound came from the Team Lead, followed by the voice of Graft, coming through an Open Line. “Good day. The alert originated from the service elevator, so I must be speaking to an ally, yet the fact that an alert came at all is interesting. To whom do I own the pleasure?”
“Board...member...recognized,” the Team Lead rumbled. “Unknown...organisms...found.”
“Board member, eh? Welcome to my humble domain, Lord Rodias,” Graft said, his tone a little less clinical and more reverent. “But what unknowns do you bring with you?”
”A mimic. One of Chuunitrixx’s advisors that has come to deliver a message directly to you. I figured it would be best to bring him along while I talk to you, as well,” Rodias would state as he looked at the Team Lead. The Sable Lord seemed nonplussed about something, that much was indicative in his tone of voice.
An audible groan came over the line.
"Advisor? My dear sir, you do hold me much higher than expected," Socrates smirked, Rodias's mood seemed to please him; as if, he predicted this outcome was to be, and was reveling in the vindication of his own thoughts. "Socrates, your Lordship, is my name; no relation, of course," he introduced with a tone and how more cordial than anything this displayed, "If you would be so kind, we've much to discuss of your espionage. I'm sure my Lord is brimming with thoughts, are you not?"
”Definitely no relation.” Rodias muttered.
“So, the saga continues.” Graft sighed, which filtered through the Open Line as a hiss of static. “In your infinite wisdom, Rodias, you know that I have health and safety codes to uphold, so I must wonder why you have allowed vermin to follow you down here. If you like, my Guards can dispose of it for you.” Graft offered, as if discussing a bug. “TL, would either of them happen to have a chest with them?”
The juggernaut nodded. “Yes...sir.”
“Hmph. In that case, allow me to repeat what I said the last time a proxy attempted to foist mimic slush on me. No deal.” He spoke matter-of-factly, as if forced to explain obvious things when he had better business to be attending to. “If Chunnitrixx wants to deal with me, she can do so directly, in a forthright and sensible manner, and we can work out the exact terms of any exchanges. I’m not interested in the deficient ravings of the filicidal, especially by proxy.”
”I’ve already tried killing him, Graft. All that does is respawn him back at his home, and leave you with a mess of mimic guts to clean up. Its more efficient to just hear him out, at this point. And, I have business with you beyond this chest of infanticide,” Rodias stated as he looked up at the TL.
A scratching sound came through as Graft thought about how to sort out the misunderstanding. “I don’t care if it’s dead, just that it’s not here. If you don’t let it back in, it won’t be a problem. And it would be the Guards cleaning it up, not me. They’re quite able, I assure you. By the way, you should by no means capitulate to such things. Give a mouse a cookie, and he’ll want milk,” he recited from one of Kath’s books. Already, her wisdom was coming in handy. A moment later he seemed to compose himself. “I would be more than happy to engage with you, but please leave that revolting container behind when you come over. I’ll see that it’s returned to Chunnitrixx. She of all people should know that Salem’s Chapter is the place to dump refuse, not here.”
Socrates tipped on his feet -- heel to toe, heel to toe, heel to toe -- over and over, like a child waiting from something to end, or a turn to speak. Yet, his face was split clean across its width by a Glasgow Smile; Mimic Panelling and Doppleflesh exposed to reveal his inner nature of an all-consuming beast, and one of heightened intelligence... and yet, the morals of a monster. Rodias didn't have to fear him, yet the human inside knew it was wiser to approach him with a train of conversation suited to his manipulative nature. After all, the Chateau was a large place, and Socrates possessed a Silver Knight on his back.
After a moment, Socrates's face folded back together, and he wiped his lower lip. "My apologies, I get bored when people start to grandstand. My mind wanders to thoughts, such as, "What do they taste like? and "How would I cook them?" and so on." he apologized, before looking at Rodias, "My Lord, might I hold that chest, since it bares you no use?"
Rodias looked back at Socrates, wordlessly observing his monstrous nature before he said: ”These eggs are of no use to anyone, Socrates. But if you want them, then here,” Rodias would state. Looking back to the Lead, Rodias would firmly shake his head. ”While I understand your disgust, Graft, the reality of it is that he is a Chateau residence much like any of us. I plead with you to allow him just a moment of your time. If you do that, I swear you’ll never have to see him in your factory again. On my word, and on my knives.” Rodias said, wondering just why Chuunitrixx made such a...repulsive mimic. To the very minutest aspect, Socrates was a detestable being. And yet, he seemed to have a purpose in everything he did.
“‘Plead with’?” Graft asked, an ever-so-slightly derisive edge in his voice. “No more than considerate word choice on your part, I’m sure. You mean ‘order’, of course. Still, I would wish to hear you say it, sir.”
Socrates smiled, as the chest returned to him, and, quite suddenly, his head unzipped, as he crammed the chest in, and snapped his head shut; the chest snapped and shattered, the lock and hinge cracked and burst, and a bit of yellow spurted from between his lips, as he happily -- no, smugly -- chewed and swallowed. "Oh, pardon me, I made a small mess," he says, rubbing the egg into the floor with his sandal. "As for me, please, my Lord, your hollow promises offered offend me," he says, "This is the outcome I intended. I sent dear, sweet little Kath ahead of us for a reason, Rodias. I wanted Kath, poor, gullible, little girl, to temper and prepare Graft. I wanted him to have a good reason to keep himself in his quarters, and us at the door, my poor, empty Lord," he was grinning that damnedable grin that would haunt Rodias, "I'm a Mimic. I'm a Doppelganger, Greater, at that. We Overseers get a class increase, because more effort is put into us. But, we're still learning... always learning. I appreciate your precision-focused ways, Graft. I'll be sure that your skill is put to invaluable use."
"Thanks for entertaining me, Rodi! You're the best!" Socrates says, in her voice, as cheery as always.
What would follow next would be only heard by Graft, the exquisitely detailed sounds of flesh being cut apart, of Socrates being rended apart, and, lastly of several gunshots being leveled into a puddle of viscera, the gun that Socrates held now smoking in Rodias’ hand as he looked down at Socrates’ remains, which would no doubt soon be restored in full back at Enderall. Stowing the gun in his cloak to return to Chuunitrixx later, Rodias would smile at the Team Lead. ”My apologies for the wait, Graft. Please, allow me to speak to you now,” he would say, as if the sound of an individual being torn apart hadn’t just happened over open communications.
All that Rodias's actions accomplished was a disintegrating mess, a melting gun, and a victorious laughter echoing the Chateau Ground. Socrates couldn't help it. "It's a brand-new day, my friends!" he laughed among the maelstrom that was Chapter VI. As everything was in chaos from Chuunitrixx's uncontrolled emotions. "Now, I have the upper hand in the game, my dear Lord..." he says, before laughing himself to a terminal, and smashing a button, "Administrative Lockout Password Change. Old Password: Power Overwhelming. New Password: There Is No Cow Level." Socrates says, "Chapter Lockdown: Disconnect."
Once again, Chapter VI disappeared off the roster -- only Rodias wasn't taking an elevator in this time. Socrates grinned, "Now, someone needs to clean up this mess. I guess that's me. Good thing I ate."
“It sounds like my Guards will indeed be busy cleaning up,” Graft said offhandedly. “My TL will lead you to my office, sir...”
The door slid back, pulled by unseen tendons within the wall, to admit Rodias to Graft’s office. Musty and cluttered as ever, it provided an overload of visual stimulus, and the Director sat at the center of it. Papillary stood directly to his right, more than likely there the whole time. Graft got straight to business, as was his custom. “Sir, while Open Line is a utility skill and not altogether that valuable, particularly for a hivemind organization, it’s still an important asset of mine and a regrettable thing to be copied. I attempted to establish an Open Line to both Chunnitrixx and that snotwad but failed, which means they do not consider me their allies. You’re letting that psychopath and her vermin menagerie run rampant.” He leaned forward, tenting his fingers. “In fact, if I might be so bold, you’re letting all of us run rampant. I thought for sure you’d disapprove at least one of my projects.” He chuckled, as if outing himself for another indiscretion, then continued. “The TL assigned to front door duty somewhat recently reported a vast number of different humans leaving the Chateau. Through analysis of common denominators and reflection on the Chateau’s roster, I’d guess it’s either more mimics or modified Mamoru clones. Tell me you ordered that.“
Rodias closed his eyes, before sighing deeply. ”You’re right Graft. I am letting everyone run rampant. I have been for the last two weeks. I must admit that I’m not used to being in a leadership position...but that’s no suitable excuse. Not anymore,” the Sable Lord would say, taking a seat and promptly sighing. ”Of all the Sable Lords to have been brought here, I doubt that I’m anywhere near the most qualified. Droledge, or Kiss My Axe would have managed this place far better than I have been doing. As such, I feel that I’ll need to reign things back a bit. Get a firmer grip of control over things, so that I don’t lose control. Or worse. Allow someone to get themselves killed.”
Whatever was in the Sable Lord’s mind, it was clear that it had made him realize that he was far from perfect as a leader. Far from the “Pinnacle of CEOs” as Graft had called him in their first meeting. Right now, he felt that he in earnest needed to do things to make the members of Gothika more under control...before someone or something came and tore it all away.
Graft nodded. “Yes. As one boss to another, it is true that sometimes one’s organization can get out of control. A boss that is too lenient will be walked all over, and the company will suffer. When that time comes, it is necessary to demonstrate that you mean business. A leader must identify problems and correct them, without hesitation or remorse. Like healing a wound, what is rotted must be cut and scraped away. If a whole arm or leg is corrupt, it must be sawed off to save the rest. Better to lose a part than the whole, is it not?”
He lowered his voice. Behind his goggles, in the poor light, his eyes were inscrutable. “Has Chuunitrixx not betrayed Bandersnatch? Betrayed us?”
Rodias would sharply exhale, before outright saying: ”No. I do not think she has, Graft. Rather, I just think that I’ve been dealing with her wrong. But, I can still bring her around. That much I am certain of.”
Leaning back again, the Director shrugged. For some reason, he was smiling. No grotesque affair, it haunted his features like a shadow, as if he knew something mildly amusing. His voice came even though his mouth didn’t move. “Then see that you do. I cannot abide by a CEO who is not taken seriously, manipulated and made mockery of by his own employees. If you require help in your endeavors, be assured that my Factory is yours...provided I am repaid, of course. It’s the least you could do for one so unshaking in his loyalty.”
”Speaking of...I wished to speak with you, Graft. Namely on your espionage on Chuunitrixx’s territory. I understand that you wish to perform better than most, but...I have to wonder what you have to gain by learning the methods of others,” Rodias would state, before adding on: ”Frankly, I feel that your methods are the kind best suited to you. Save for this apparent espionage that panicked Chuunitrixx.”
Graft laughed dryly, his face practically bare of humor. “Well, if I did, I’d have everything to gain, really. But want to know something funny? I don’t spy on my allies, usually. I kept the Open Line active on Kath in case the potential threat she encountered returned, and so that I could hear the results of her and Ashara’s scouting. I figured I’d get a report later anyway, but needed the data to start designing the Vis-Types as soon as possible. This ‘espionage’, to which Chuunitrixx overreacted so disgustingly, for which she instigated this farcical quarrel, in which I have no interest and for which I have no time?” He shrugged. “An accident. Apologies.”
He stroked his whiskers in contemplation. “Although I feel her situation would have escalated regardless--really, the fact that someone so much as heard about her dubious exploits causing all this? She’s reaching for anything. Any excuse to do what she wants,” he shook his head, having guided the conversation back toward his adversary.
Rodias would close his eyes, before shaking his head. ”I can’t bring myself to abandon her. Not after...after losing Traptrixx the way I did. I owe it to her creator to help her. To be better than this. I...need to make this Chateau a better place. For everyone here. Chuunitrixx may not seem it, but she is trying to help grow the Chateau in power and size. Her scouts are to bring in supplies to be distributed to the COIN. For the time being, Graft, I appreciate your efforts. But, let me handle Chuunitrixx,” Rodias would say, opening his eyes once more to reveal that they were almost shining with a sense of resolve...and a hint of sorrow.
“Well, your heart is in the right place,” Graft told him, sensing that the meeting was nearing its conclusion. The look in Rodias’ eyes was simultaneously reassuring and offputting. “I hope that you don’t get it pierced for your troubles. As for me, keep her and her vermin out of my hair…” he raised his cap to rub his bald head. “...and as long as I get plentiful resources from COIN, I will be pleased. From your mention of it I take it to be back online, which is the best news I’ve received all week.” He smiled at last, excited by the prospect of refilling his depleted stores.
”I wouldn’t be surprised if her recent episode is going to affect the resources coming back. But, if my current scheme works out, you’ll have plenty of materials to work with within the month. And, do try and close any lines that you open as soon as you’re done, Graft. Have a good day,” Rodias would say as he departed, leaving where he had sat the chunk of Amberlyte that he had received from Ashara, specifically placed to let the light catch upon its brilliant honeyed color.
Three tentacles shot out of Graft as if on springs, seizing the gleaming ore from where it lay and reeling it in. “Of that, you can be certain. Pleasure doing business...” The director swapped to a different pair of lenses and began his analysis.
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