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Topic Summary

Posted by: Shenmue654
« on: October 12, 2017, 12:24:10 AM »

Keshin rolls his eyes in Jeffrey's general direction. "Ignore him," Keshin said. "It's an insult." The giggling psychopath might have been responsible for Myitt's inexplicable attempt on both of their lives, which didn't exactly warm Keshin to the man.

Keshin's face snaps into a kind of instantaneous, casual smile that he uses on Joanne's face when he wants to attract potential clients. Granted, it was hard to think of how he would establish a minotaur and a horse-headed creature as potential clients. "Anyway, it sounds like you've had quite the history in these parts," Keshin says. "Although, admittedly, so have we all. Care to tell me what you remember of what----"

Keshin swerves as a huge, black-coated presence passes by them. "Excuse me," Keshin says with slight annoyance. His eyes widen briefly when he realizes both that the stranger has the head of a goat...and that the stranger's presence seemed...threatenin g. Somehow vaguely reminiscent of Keshin and Joanne themselves. Keshin stares as the stranger settles onto the Bar stool.

"I...sincerely doubt it, but do you know that person?" Keshin says, gesturing to the goat man.

<<Come on Kess, all furries don't know each other. That's stupid.>>

<<It's worth an attempt, at least.>>
"Believe me, shortstuff, I've probably got even less of a ****ing idea as to what's going on with this place than you do," Jeffrey says to Truth Seeker casually after the Iskoort delivers his panicked, angry tirade.  "Except that I'm pretty sure it's not the afterlife, even though I know for a fact that my ass should be grass. Also...." Jeffrey smirks ever so slightly, peering down at Truth Seeker's diminutive body with amusement. "...it wore off, didn't it? That's my power. That's what it does. Makes people believe what I tell them when I shift the tone of my voice. 'Singing,' I often call it." Jeffrey hums a few notes, but his voice sounds almost auto-tuned and mechanical, and intensely pleasing. "Although I gotta say little buddy, you had better get wise..."

Jeffrey spins a finger around his ear. "...because it always works better on nutters. Nutters and shmucks. You know, gullible people. You need conviction to fight it, right here." Jeffrey forms his hand into a fist near his chest. "Anyway, like I said, no idea what this place is, except that anyone can come here. From any world. You got me?"

((Stopping my post here until tomorrow. Will post for Mar afterward, since he's got more to address, sorry for taking so long!!))
Posted by: Hunter
« on: October 09, 2017, 06:02:26 AM »

In an unmarked room, in an off-the-books government research facility, Subject #2218; wearing military fatigues, is briefed  on his 'mission'. A gruff, older soldier is going on about how an experimental teleporter is going to drop him straight into the heart of enemy territory so he can easily achieve his mission; assassinate the dictator of a third world country. Subject #2218 barks out confirmation with a crisp "Yes, Sir!"

Walking towards the massive machine, all he can think of is his mission and of his training. Whatever they had been doing to him at this place had wiped his memory clean. No thoughts of family, friends, anything. Government labs tend to do this.

Stepping up to the plate at the foot of the machine, it whirs to life with a gentle hum as a faint shimmer appears inside the massive disk. "God speed, soldier" the Sergeant says as he steps into the portal.

The first thing that happens to Subject #2218 as he enters is an immense amount of pain, more than anything they had put him through prior to this. Throughout the ordeal, all that he can think of is an extremely faint memory of another human, a woman with long blonde hair. It seems to bring him a little bit of comfort, so he accepts the memory with open arms, as it were.


On the lonely planetoid that housed The GESB, a strange light lit up a patch of the ship graveyard, and as it grew brighter a strange looking disk appeared in between several of the craft, appearing almost like a rift in the very fabric of reality, bending and twisting the light that touched it. It seems to pulse as it gets slightly larger, not extruding mass nor consuming it either.
Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: October 08, 2017, 11:05:10 PM »

Salem finally sighs and turns back to the group. Whatever was in those woods, it seems to be gone now, and the new arrival seems unconcerned. Maybe she drives a mecha something-or-other and parked back in the wood. Or maybe she used to be ten times as tall, he thinks with a wry smirk. Who could tell in this place?

But "Dino" sounds... weirdly familiar, somehow. There's a tug. Something in his memory...

For Thaum's sake, he must be tired. He certainly doesn't recognize her species... does he?

"I think of the whole place as sentient," he says to Dino, slowly at first, and then faster as his train of thought finds its track. "It's kind of the same thing as he was saying," he points at Mar. "This place is in the power of some vague godlike... thing... that seems to get a kick out of just bringing us here and seeing what happens. His description may be more... actually accurate. He's more familiar with beings of that... er... type... but most of the time it just comes across as if this place had a mind of its own. It's a power bigger and more... I dunno.... unknowable? Than any of us. At first, this place just comes across as... bizarre... but as time goes by, if you're here for a bit, you'll start to see what I mean." When Ossanlin mentions leaving in her ship, he smirks. Even that isn't always reliable here, he knows.

<<Ossanlin,>> he prods, and sighs. This is not an easy conversation, and it's difficult to continue with so many distractions, but he doesn't have a choice, does he? <<What I would like your help with is... information... regarding the Mark III ships. Basic information. Top level blueprints and layouts, electrical schematics, typical command structure... even basic specifications would be a help.>>

Al, for his part, matches Ardania's bow with practiced perfection. "You're welcome," he says in Galard. He holds her gaze for a moment, scrutinizing her main eyes. He nods to himself, seeming satisfied with her state. Even so, he keeps an eye on her and doesn't stray far, even as he watches the tall, darkly-clothed newcomer heading into the bar.

"Well!" he says loudly, clapping his hands together, "Shall we move inside before someone else is hurt? Who's up for a drink? Salem's treat!" Salem's only response is to groan and roll his eyes.
Posted by: gh, King of Birbs
« on: October 03, 2017, 03:24:59 AM »

Outside in the shipyard, a dark figure emerges from out of the shadows. The hunched form slowly closes in on the Bar with a faint smell of rot and smoke following it. The figure pays no attention to any of the ships in the yard, instead opting to wander toward the entrance, as if it had no clear direction of where it was heading.

As the door opens, the newcomer lets out a nasty cough before ducking his head under the doorway and sauntering toward the bar proper. While most of the newcomer’s body is concealed by a black duster coat, its head resembles that of a goat with slightly bloodshot eyes. But even before the clearly inhuman face, one would most likely notice the newcomer’s physique - he’s easily over seven feet tall, and even under the heft of the coat, it’s could be assumed that he would have no problem throwing an average human through any of the Bar’s walls, should the situation call for it.

The sound of hooves tapping against a wood floor accompany every step the strange beast takes until he sits himself at a barstool with a heavy grunt. “Whadda we got,” the newcomer mutters to himself as he squints his eyes at the liqour selection. “Bartender, what’s the best Scotch you got?” he asks in a gruff but not unfriendly voice. He takes a look around, sizing up the Bar’s occupants. “Just gimme a bottle and a glass, I got a feelin’ I’ll stick around for a bit.”
Posted by: Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)
« on: October 02, 2017, 03:21:18 AM »

<If the need arose?>  Ossanlin shakes his head.  <At this point in the war, the need is a foregone conclusion.  And what were you to do if something like this happened?  What would you do if you found yourself in the wilderness of some unknown world completely alone?  Or worse, in the company of Imperials?  This is beyond irresponsible.  This is not a place you should go unarmed.  The dangers even here are myriad.  Yaolin...>  He scoffs, eyes darkening a bit.  <I suppose you've become my responsibility then.>  Ossanlin shakes his head.  <At least until you learn to handle a shredder.  And you will learn to handle one.>  He pauses, glancing over Ardania's tail.  <Is it too much to hope that you at least know something of martial combat?>
Posted by: Terenia
« on: October 02, 2017, 12:12:41 AM »

Ardania shifts uneasily as Al works, though she doesn't stop him, only flinching slightly when he applies the antiseptic. She watches with a stalk as he works, clearly fascinated, though only able to pick out a handful of his words.

<Thank you,> she tells him with a dip of her stalk eyes and a slight bow of her upper body, meant to convey gratitude. Her skin is still pale beneath her violet fur, but she no longer appears to be at risk of losing consciousness.

When Ossanlin speaks, her main eyes snap to his and she straightens. <A shredder?> she echoes. <No, sir. The captain of my ship and his second in command were equipped with weaponry, but the scientists on board were not. We had a small number of guards assigned to our ship who went to the Academy. They were to protect us, if the need arose.>

She listens quietly to his description of the fourth dimension, of the Ellimist and Crayak, and of worlds far beyond her reckoning. When he finishes, she takes a few moments to consider the implications before she responds. <I should think,> she says slowly, <that it is a great relief to know such beings exist. It certainly removes the responsibility that comes with being the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy.> Her words are wry, and there's a sense that, if she weren't speaking to a War-Prince who was a legend himself, she'd be smiling.

Instead, she turns her attention to Mar. <So you possess abilities far beyond those of my people,> she says with interest. <What is your species called?>
Posted by: Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)
« on: September 29, 2017, 05:56:30 AM »

Ossanlin frowns to himself, though the expression is so muted as to be nigh indistinguishable from his resting expression...if his usual expression could be called "resting."  Having been in command for so long had hardened his general expression into one of no-nonsense.

<It disturbs me that they are continuing to allow civilians off-planet without morphing, let alone without translator chips.  There are things out here to curdle the blood...did they at least teach you how to handle a shredder?>  He glances at Ardania, sighing a bit as Mar "explains" things.  <Suffice it to say, Ardania, that beings of unfathomable power are a reality.  The childrens' stories about Ellimist and Crayak might not necessarily be true, but the beings themselves do exist.  The host of this n-dimensional plane is another of these beings.  And Mar here is a...projection...of yet another.>  He rolls his eyes a bit.  <His magical tree description is merely a fanciful way of describing the timestream, accessible in the fourth dimension.  I prefer to view them as threads of probability.  If one is gifted, one can shunt a thread of probability onto the track of reality and change the course of time itself.  Theoretically, of course.>

Ossanlin notes a smallish lizard-like creature with a stalk-eye as it approaches.  It has very strange biological architecture...the arms are almost comically short.  He suppresses an expression of surprise as the creature can apparently use thought-speech.  And it seems colloquially familiar...very similar to the way Myitt and the other human rebels talk.  This creature must have had extended contact with humans in the past...but the thought-speech is troubling...

As it speaks of leaving, Ossanlin glances at the creature with his main eyes.  <I would suggest your ship...if you have one.>
Posted by: DinosaurNothlit
« on: September 29, 2017, 12:35:45 AM »

<Radiation from your planet's sun was able to alter your genome in such a way?> Truth Seeker marveled.  <That is incredible, my friend.>  Suddenly confused, he pondered his own words.  Friend?  He barely knew this alien.  Why had he said that?

Slowly, his mind began to clear.  It felt like some form of intoxication was wearing off, as if some kind of drug had affected him.  But after that initial confusion, Truth Seeker realized what had happened.  Jeffrey had used some kind of psychic ability to alter Truth Seeker's own thoughts!  As Truth Seeker began to come back into his right mind, he realized that something else was very wrong.  He looked down again at his device, now dark.

< . . . What did you do to me?> he said accusingly as he realized what had happened.  <What did you do to my Cons-fi Reader?!>  He held up his device towards Jeffrey, as his thought-speak rose to an angry pitch.  <This is my livelihood!  This is all I have!  I need it to survive!  Without it, I cannot earn a living, I cannot . . . >  He abruptly seemed to deflate again.  Literally, in fact.  His diaphragm collapsed and he took shallower and shallower breaths, which had the effect of making him physically shorter in stature.  <Sorry,> he said finally.  <I know that this is not your fault.  It is just . . . this is an upsetting turn of events.>  He glanced at the Bartender again, then fearfully around at the walls of the Bar, as though expecting the building itself to swallow him alive.  <What the hell is this place?>


Dino looked at Mar, tilting her head slightly at his explanation.  She'd never heard of Yggdrasil before, yet somehow the term was still familiar.  The golden threads of time itself, twining themselves together into a branching shape of every possibility . . . yes, she had seen the tree she somehow knew he was speaking of.  She saw it when she used the Time Matrix.  But how would this human know anything about that?  She sniffed the air in his direction.  He had to be human, nothing else would wear so much perfume.  Yet, underneath that smell of roses, she couldn't help but to think that there ought to still be a human scent somewhere.  There ought to be, but there wasn't.  And she was close enough, she should still be able to smell something, even with the obnoxious perfume.  But all she was getting was something that smelled strangely sinister.  A predatory scent, but somehow not a biological one.  Not even alien.  Just, other.  An oily smell of dread.

Dino shook her head.  She was probably just imagining things.  The perfume was doing weird things to her nose, that was all.  God, she hated that stuff.  She wasn't getting a scent from one of the other humans, either, but he was just a blank space, like there was nothing there at all.  He was probably just standing in a pocket of dead air.  <Yeah, that makes sense,> she responded shakily to Mar.  <Well, as much sense as a Bar on an asteroid in a cross-roads of Time and Space inhabited by a god could make.  I've forgotten what is or isn't supposed to make sense anymore.>  She sniffed in his direction again.  Speaking of what is or isn't supposed to make sense . . . what the hell are you? she wondered, but did not say out loud.

Dino looked over her shoulder for a moment as she noticed Salem looking intently into the woods behind her, but then looked back at him when she realized that he had probably just heard the footsteps of her formerly-larger self.  If there had been anything else threatening in those woods, she'd have known about it.  She had to stifle a laugh at Salem's explanation that they were humans, as though assuming she wouldn't know what a 'human' was.  It made sense, of course, but it was still unexpected.  In any case, she decided it was probably best to play along with that assumption.

<My name is Dino,> Dino said to Salem, with just the slightest trace of hesitation before her name, as she suddenly decided against giving her real human name, substituting her most often-used nickname instead.  Until she knew more about the situation, she should be careful.  <Wait, 'it brings folks here from any universe it wishes'?> she repeated.  <So, this place is, what, sentient?  It brought me here?>  She sounded scared.  <How do I leave?>
Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: September 18, 2017, 12:14:08 PM »

As the pounding footsteps draw nearer, Salem's hand inches towards his weapon. He stumbles slightly as he moves closer to the woods. His mind isn't working at its normal speed at the moment, so gauging distances and and the layout of the woods nearby takes more concentration than usual. By the time he decides to pay attention to the incoming footsteps again, he can no longer hear them. He freezes, listening hard, and squints towards the woods in the former direction of the sound. He tenses when the bushes rustle, but all that moves into view is an unusual creature he doesn't recognize.

"This is the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar," he responds absently to her question, still staring into the woods with an increasingly concerned look on his face. After a few seconds, he looks more closely at the creature that's just arrived. Bipedal with a rather impressive tail, armored, toothy-- pretty dangerous-looking, but capable of articulate thought-speech and even, it seems, politeness. Definitely an interesting one. There's no sign at all that he recognizes her as a dinosaur.

"I um..." he begins, then clears his throat. He smiles and begins again, though he's clearly still watching deeper into the woods. "My name is Salem. My species is what we call 'human,' which actually means very little here. This place is a... little bit of an enigma. My associate," he nods towards Ossanlin, "would call it... what, a dimensional nexus? Basically, it brings folks here from any universe it wishes." He smiles warmly, beginning to turn on his 'salesman' charm. "Welcome to the edge of everything."

In the meantime, Al sighs and turns to Mar, even as one hand rummages through the medical bag. He points at Ardiania "She called me an entertainer," he whines. "See this? You did this!" Al finds a tiny antiseptic spray bottle and holds it up briefly so Ardania can see it. He spritzes a small amount on his own skin. He mimes stinging pain, sucking in a sharp breath, followed shortly by a melodramatic re-relaxing of his muscles. "Brief pain," he says slowly, in Galard. He then turns the spray to her flank and lightly mists the abrasion there.

He picks up a dirty, scratched cylinder and pops off the top, revealing an off-white creamy salve, about half of which looks to have been used. As he pops in a hand and smears a layer, gently and deftly, on Ardania's flank, he speaks over his shoulder to Mar. "You're not too far off, actually. I'm not a human creation, per se. Different species, different time, but yeah, you're right, it sort of came down to a form of escapism, depending upon how you look at it." He pauses and scrutinizes his work as the salve cures into a crude, yet effective, flexible field bandage, and dabs a bit more on. "I was built as a companion. And as someone with whom to party. And in whom to confide. An inexhaustible source of positive social energy. There's not really a word for it in this language, but the action's more important than the definition." He squints at his makeshift bandage, curing in the cool air, and finally seems satisfied.

Al turns to Mar and shrugs with a smile. "Not to say robots never divert from their programming. Where I'm from, artificial intelligence allows plenty of room for personal evolution and growth, but I happen to enjoy being who I was built to be." He stuffs his supplies back into the bag and laughs. "Alright, Mr. Embodiment-of-Fantasy, ask the lady if she can make it inside. If she's going into shock a lie-down and some fluids are in order."
Posted by: Terenia
« on: September 16, 2017, 09:53:44 PM »

Ardania hesitates, stalk eyes still watching Al closely. <Yes,> she says to Mar, though the tone of her thoughts betray...not confusion, exactly. Something closer to incredulity. As if she expects him to be lying. <And you are the embodiment of fantasy, then?>
Posted by: Gaz
« on: September 11, 2017, 12:40:06 PM »

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, we did get into some trouble. Hopefully most of that's behind us now. It's been a few years since I was here last, and it looks like some familiar faces from last time aren't here anymore. Not that I was expecting to see them, but it would have been nice. After I left here I got a job as head of security on a space station."

"I was here briefly before as well," Julian said. "Stuck around for a little while after Morgan took off. Then decided it was time for me to go back to travel. Mr. Ed?" Julian got distracted overhearing Jeffrey at the end of his sentence.
Posted by: Shenmue654
« on: September 05, 2017, 06:07:12 PM »

"I thought so," Keshin says warily, trying to look directly at the minotaur but ultimately giving him only sideways eye contact. It was awkward. Keshin had no idea why he would know a minotaur, but he definitely had heard those names before. "You look familiar too. If memory serves, you guys got in a lot of trouble."

<<That's about as much as we know, ain't it?>>


"That said, we'd be happy to talk," Keshin says. "Find out more about you. That sort of thing. How are you familiar with the Bar?"
<Humans are an escapist species by nature,> Mar says with a slight bow. <Like Andalites, but much more so, as humans often have dull and unpleasant lives. Stories and fantasy worlds allow them to make sense of the world and their place in it. Humans turn against and regularly fight other humans, and there is no species-wide government or social system. This greatly necessitates the need for escapism, as the government does not provide all the purpose and fulfillment adult humans need. Neither do they have anything on the scale of your Great War to unite them. And so they dream of false worlds and fantasies to sate that lust. They even dream of one that occurs between Highest. And it is from that dream that I rise!>> He makes a slight bow. <I like to see myself as the embodiment of that longing, in many ways, milady. And by extension, so indeed is Al. He is a way for humans to find pleasure and recreation, among many other things.>

Mar twitches as he suddenly catches a strange thought speech line from a short distance away, along with a notably odd aura that he hasn't detected before. It's definitely sentient, and within the mortal coil, but what else it might be he's not certain of. Not human, of anywhere in the Tree, and so by extension not my problem, no? Although I have had something of an investment in outsiders, as well, ever since the Yeerk-Andalite War encroached on my territory. <You're on the asteroid that contains the Chancel of a Highest of unknown provenance,> Mar responds dutifully. <Highest as in "a god." We call Him the Bartender. The building is His, and we call it the Galaxy's Edge Space Bar. It seems as though anyone from any point in Time and Space can reach it, and from any universe in Yggdrasil. It also makes manifest the non-corporeal, excepting the dominant Highest. Does all of that more or less make sense, minus the superfluous details from me?>> Mar was beginning to realize that most of what he said, even in thought-speech, didn't really make much sense to mortals.
"Uhhh, quite a bit actually, but I don't know a whole lot about it," Jeffrey says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. He was a pretty skilled chemist so far as making concentrated serums and poisons went, but his knowledge of the changes to the human genome that had occurred since the Cataclysm were less than encyclopedic. "I know that the whole thing happened 'cause the Sun went flipping weird and got super radioactive, and that changed the genes of the survivors in a big way, but the details aren't hugely important for showbiz." Jeffrey shrugs and grins.

His grin gets a little bit wider when he sees that his twisted little set of powers are indeed affecting the creepy little accordion alien. Haha, no way. I'll have to take this little feature into account later. The **** blue deer only seemed to hesitate for like, what, five seconds? But this guy is gullible as ****, apparently! Jeffrey follows the creature, noting that his device seems to be reacting oddly to the Bar. Jeffrey wasn't sure what it was supposed to detect, other than fictional characters, but it was detecting a lot of it.

Jeffrey stops and then gapes for a moment at the two furries in front of him and the alien, clearly the real thing rather than human hobbyists. He points, squints, and then shakes his head and throws up his hands. He looks over at the alien and goes, "Could be, but I honestly think they're two different types. That one looks like a minotaur, and the other guy's got Mr. Ed for a freaking head."
Posted by: Terenia
« on: August 31, 2017, 11:49:04 PM »

Ardania listens to Mar's explanation, a puzzled look on her face. <Why would someone build an android for entertainment purposes? Does it serve to amuse children?>

Her question is interrupted by Al himself, when he approaches. She stiffens slightly, but his switch to Galard--or perhaps her encroaching lightheadedness--seems to calm her. <You speak Galard,> she acknowledges. <I...admit I am a poor interpreter of the language. I do not have a translator chip and only just began teaching myself. But if you speak slowly I am certain I can decipher your meaning.> She pauses, then adds. <Translator chips are only given to military personnel. It would be nice to understand any language. Think of how it would augment my studies! And I could...oh. I'm babbling, aren't I?> She blinks her main eyes slowly, realizing that her thoughts were getting away from her. Focus, she chides herself.

<Yes, medical help would be appreciated, Android Entertainer, if it is within your capabilities.>
Posted by: DinosaurNothlit
« on: August 28, 2017, 08:02:16 PM »

Truth Seeker's diaphragm made a deflating sound.  He was slightly disappointed, but not really surprised, that Jeffrey indeed thought he was crazy after all.  <As I said, they are not physical beings that we can directly perceive,> he said simply.  He was still looking down at his device, although now his redirected eye-contact seemed evasive.  Tempting though it was, he had learned not to argue with aliens who had such different views of the world than his own.  It never worked, and in any case, respect had to be given, before being earned.

The Cons-fi Reader was still steadily growing brighter.  It was already bright enough that the additional light obscured the glowing figures near the bookshelf that Truth Seeker had seen earlier.  The indigo light, as seen through the screen on the Iskoort's device, seemed to be coming from the walls of the Bar itself.  As though every visible surface was covered in the 'consciousness' energy that the Cons-fi Reader was designed to detect.

Truth Seeker looked up again, listening with interest as Jeffrey explained that the powers were a genetic quirk of his species.  As an Iskoort, he simply couldn't help but be interested in genetics.  Truth Seeker's own physical body was genetically engineered, after all.  <A genetic trait that is expressed differently among individuals?  That is incredible!  How much research has been done on the molecular genetic structures that would make that possible?>

At Jeffrey's words, a wave of familiarity swept over Truth Seeker, as though he was talking to an old and trusted friend.  Yes, of course, he had known Jeffrey for a very long time, hadn't he?  Long enough to know without doubt that Jeffrey would never, ever, lie to him.  Truth Seeker could relax in the knowledge that everything Jeffrey had told him was true.  Hmm.  So, if Jeffrey had expressed reason to be scornful of Truth Seeker's belief in the spirits of fictional creatures?  Well, then, that pragmatic viewpoint must also be taken to heart.

He looked down at his device again, which was now glowing bright enough to light up the Iskoort's features from below with an eerie indigo glow.  He frowned.  Why, exactly, did he care?  It wasn't like the glow necessarily meant anything.  Just a meaningless signal, perhaps an electromagnetic phenomenon.

The glass orbs on either side of the Reader started to glow, too, that same soothing indigo aura.  Brighter . . . and brighter . . . until it was painful to even look directly at the screen.  The orbs were becoming steadily warmer and warmer in his hands until they were uncomfortably hot, but he didn't let go.  Nothing could now be seen from the viewfinder, except for that searing bright indigo light.

Then, quite suddenly, with an audible snapping sound, the device went completely dark.

Truth Seeker didn't seem to care.

Truth Seeker looked up from his now-defunct device, only just now noticing the two new creatures that had entered the Bar.  Another new species of alien, and this one was dimorphic, it seemed.  Yes, they almost had to be the same species.  They had entered together, they were similarly colored, and their facial structure seemed almost the same, with one merely having a longer and narrower muzzle than the other.  The shorter-muzzled one also had horns, but such decorations were common in dimorphic species.

<Excuse me,> the Iskoort said questioningly to Morgan and Julian.  He was still unfamiliar with gender roles in other species, since the Iskoort had only one sex.  His gaze lingered on Julian.  <I hope I am not being rude, but can you tell me which of you is the female of your species?>


Dino sniffed the air again, as she drew closer to the scents she had picked up earlier.  She hadn't noticed at first, because she wasn't terribly familiar with Andalite smells, but one of the Andalites seemed to be injured.  Yeah, that was the smell of Andalite blood, alright.  There was a smell of Hork-bajir blood, as well, and although the scent was somewhat faded she could still tell that there had been a lot of blood from that one.  Hork-bajir blood, unlike that of an Andalite, was a smell she was unfortunately very familiar with.

She was getting close enough now that there was a very good chance she would be seen, even through the cover of the trees.  So she began to 'morph.'  Her friend, Kiphos (who had been born in space courtesy of the Skrit Na, and was thus quite gifted with alien technology) had managed to augment an Escafil device in just such a way that she was able to regain morphing powers, even as a nothlit.  Well, sort of.  She was still not able to change shape, but she was now at least able to change size.

Which is what she did now, focusing on the human DNA inside her and shrinking down to a much less intimidating stature.  Within a couple of minutes, she was a dinosaur the size of a person.  It made her nervous, intentionally becoming smaller and weaker, but she hoped it would cause her to be seen as less of a threat, and thus less likely to be attacked in the first place.  She hoped.

She wished she had a watch, but she hoped she would be able to judge two hours easily enough.  This ability of hers was a variant of the morphing technology, so there was no reason to think that the same rules wouldn't apply.

She took a deep breath, blowing the air through her nostrils with a sound like a sigh.  She moved through the trees to where she could actually see people.  Which meant that they would be able to see her, if they were looking in her direction, although there was still a few sparse trees between her and them.  She saw humans and Andalites, gathered around a ship, and it was from this ship that most of the Hork-bajir smell was coming, although she didn't see the Hork-bajir in question.

<Hey,> she said tentatively in public thought-speak, just loud enough to get their attention while hopefully being as non-threatening as possible.  <I, uh, hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if anyone could tell me where I am?>
Posted by: Aluminator (Kit)
« on: August 27, 2017, 11:31:38 PM »

Salem's shoulders droop slightly-- though only slightly-- as he descends the ship's ramp and approaches the group gathering around Ardania. He continues his private conversation with Ossanlin, <<What I need from you, War-Prince, is something there's no way you'll be willing to give me if you think I'm only in this for profit, and no way you won't if you feel the insanity... the gravity of this situation.>> He sighs and looks Ossanlin in the eyes. <<I need information on Mark Three Dome Ships. Pretty basic information. Nothing... too compromising. I don't think. Physical layout and computer system framework information.>> He sighs again. <<I have no intention of putting any Andalite lives at risk, but I think a lot of the information I need is stored aboard the... aboard one of the fleet's Mark Threes. If this is what I think it is, I could potentially save a lot of good Andalite lives.>>

He shakes his head. He's being far from convincing, and between his exhaustion and his consistently-worsening headache, he doesn't really feel he's thinking strait anymore. <<I can send you some of the evidence I've found if you want to see this plot for yourself,>> he says lamely.

Al, in the meantime, digs a few more things from the bag as soon as Ardania mentions that she may be going into shock. "I am not," he says haughtily to Mar, "an entertainer." He laughs and looks to Ossanlin, "So we really letting this clown be my spokesman?" he asks, tilting his head to indicate Mar. "He's putting even more words in my mouth than I usually do."

He stands, a number of medical supplies in hand, and winks at Mar. "Kidding, of course. You're doing a... good job. Now translate for me until we get the lady patched up, in case she doesn't understand some of my mouth-words. Oy, Salem!" he calls suddenly, "see if you can figure out where those enormous pounding footfalls are coming from!"

Salem looks at Al, surprised. "Those are footfalls?" He glances around nervously and frowns when he catches sight of the... birds...? taking flight from the woods not far off.

Al continues working. He turns towards Ardania and switches to flawless Galard. "Please lie down. Be calm. Breathe slowly." He moves closer, a small aerosol-looking device grasped in his right hand. "I will treat your wound. This may hurt for a short time. It is safe."