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Post by CJ on Aug 29, 2014 12:19:31 GMT -5
As they finally made through way through the sewers, Joe started to hear the fireworks and celebration. He thought of only hours before, when he and Sam were among the crowd. He could have never imagined that things would turn out so bad.
He bit his lip when Sam told him the name of the person Solaine saw at the banquet. How could he be so foolish? He never once thought of the others' feelings. Who knows how long they had been in hiding, knowing their entire lives were gone from them and there was little to nothing they could do about it.
For a moment, Joe wondered if it was Jack himself who attacked Solaine that terrible night in Water 7. But why would such an important person attack her directly? No, it must have been someone else.
"Thanks for telling me, Sam," he said. "You know, I don't know what I would have done without your help."
It seemed like Sam was an outsider or at least different from the others in more than her species. He wondered why she was involved in this situation in the first place, but figured it would be better not to say anything, lest he be insensitive again.
Joe tried to pay attention to his surroundings as they went about their journey. His stomach sank when he saw the walkway they would have to take. He already had to face a more jaunting height earlier, but this one was still terrifying. He tried not to show his fear, since it was Sam's face he was wearing. He'd hate to do her any more injustice.
Finally, Terrel told him he was ready. Joe couldn't get the Andersons out of his head when he saw him take baby Amelia from Linesk. He used to feel bad for the family, what with the Grand Path business and other things that went on in their lives, but here was a family that was in an even worse situation. At that moment, Joe promised himself he would do whatever he could to help them out, starting now.
"I've only done this with Sam and a few others so I don't know if it'll hurt. I don't think it does if you don't get scared. I know that sounds awful but just stay still and I'll try to do it as quickly as I can."
Hestitantly, Joe held his left hand up with his fingers and palm flat for Terrel to match it with his right. As soon as he did that, the transformation began. Sam's features began to fade into a cold, gray mirror-like texture until he only appeared to be a statue of the fishwoman in a tattered tuxedo suit. Without warning, Joe stepped forward and placed more pressure on Terrel's hand. He began to make a crinkling sound, like glass falling on a surface, as his form devolved into vector-like shapes. He grew and matched Terrel's height and soon enough the vectors became so fragmented that they looked again like a statue, only this time of the current subject. The color of Terrel's skin began to encompass the mirror texture. At this point, Joe moved naturally and wobbled back.
"Nngh..."
He fell to the floor in a sitting position and held his head as he began to take on Terrel's features. He made wheezing sounds, as though he was going to be violently sick. As it was with Sam, Joe was a perfect copy of Terrel, but mirrored. If the man had any scars or defining features, they'd be on the opposite side of his body.
Sam might have noticed it from before, but Joe didn't appear to have human feelings or empathy when he was shifting between forms. It was calculative, almost like a machine. Whatever directive Joe was given, whether it to be to save Solaine or take on a person's form, he did it with no regard to the safety or comfort of the person involved.
"I don't think I can do this," Joe said in Terrel's voice as he tried to maintain his senses. "If Terrel and I are separated, it'll only be a matter of time before I stop looking like him. I'm sorry. I thought I could get away with this, but I think I'll only drag you guys down."
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Post by Kyubey on Sept 1, 2014 3:59:54 GMT -5
If Huxley thought that Morrison was about to let her get away, before he got the answers he had demanded, she did not know Morrison very well. From the second she started running, or more accurately, the second he sensed she would run, he started to give chase, but the feeling that came over him as the other entity appeared stopped him cold. He looked up at the creature, his eyes blank and unblinking, his body tensed and ready to move at a moments notice. The thing's appearance recalled some memory in his mind, though he couldn't place what memory it was. It was so far back, and such a footnote in the back of his thoughts, from looks alone he might not have remembered at all, if it wasn't for the nostalgic feeling he sensed. There wasn't enough before him to lead to any major conclusions, but he was near certain he recognized the creature. But why was it there?
Another word came to mind, from a memory much more recent, from the same day, in fact. It did not seem relevant at the time, but now it was as clear and loud to him as if the word was being spoken right at that moment. Something the Princess had said, when he first encountered her. Specifically, what she had called him: Superion. Was he finally looking at one then? And what were they, really, and what connection did they have to the history of Vengeance? And why did it appear right then? As soon as it dawned on him, how far the mysteries went, how he was barely teetering on the edge of it all, the creature was gone.
"Wait! Stop!"
The same second as the bear-squirrel disappeared, Morrison took off running, in the same direction as Huxley fled in. He felt he was so close to unraveling everything, it would take a lot more to get him to quit right then. He sped forward as fast as it was possible for him, feeling like if he slowed down, everything he searched for would be lost.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Sept 24, 2014 15:40:21 GMT -5
"Hey, that's alright man. I can just switch places with Lin, she'll hang back on comms and we'll go instead."
"What- no, absolutely not!"
Terrel found the whole process rather weird, but managed to get through it without any major issues and sure enough there sat Joe looking as he was. It was a creepy feeling at first, and would probably take some getting used to, though he wondered if this was how Sam must have felt. Probably worse, since she had greater body issues than him, after all he had no slave branding to have to conceal.
"I think we have to, it's not fair to keep putting him through this. With Sam I could understand, but he has a working form now, I just need to go with him."
"This isn't part of the plan though, if something goes wrong, would you be able to handle it? Especially after having to help him along?!"
Linesk was clearly very distressed, and perhaps for good reason, though made a conscious effort not to distress the baby. Not that Joe would know, but of the two she was much more competent and capable with this sort of thing, as per her background and past experience. It was not that Terrel was incapable of doing covert work like this, but Linesk was just very good at it and so almost always went on tasks instead of him. That, and he had a natural talent for map reading and organizing the others. Of course, neither of them wanted to approach the topic of both of them going, due to the unspoken but very real risk; that if they went on a mission together and didn't come back, Amelia would be left alone.
"I know you're worried, I'm worried too, but this is about helping Joe just as much as it is our own situation."
"Linesk, we can take things more carefully than we planned. If we need to, well it would take longer, but you know just as well as I do that there's ways to move about the tower safely."
Brivard stepped in to help mediate, but it was still a rough situation to deal with. They all knew the risks, it was part of the life they lived now, but that didn't mean it was any easier. Only Sam hung back while the others sorted the problem out amongst themselves, since she didn't feel like she could add much of value to the conversation. Instead, she knelt down next to Joe, cautiously extending her arm.
"Alright? Need a hand? It's... ok for us to touch you, right? I mean, without risking you to change again..."
---
"Wait! Stop!"
"No, you stop! Following me, that is!"
Huxley didn't seem interested in listening to or obliging Morrison in what he wanted, and kept running. She made it up to the scaffolding and along the walkway attached to the walls, but the cat was much faster than she was. Even if he was made of metal, she didn't have ready use of her arms so it was difficult to make anything close to a good pace. That gave her a good idea though, that he was metal. She figured if she couldn't outrun his form because it was faster, she could at least elude his form because it was too big. Mid-run her body looked to tense for a moment, as if she was preparing for something, and then without warning and in a short visual distortion she seemed to disintegrate altogether. Or rather, it was more like her body just vanished as her clothes crumpled to the ground, falling forward from the previous motion of her running. Before they collapsed to the floor completely though, out sprung a small Siamese cat of the confines of the straightjacket. Without missing a beat, it made for a small drainage hole in the wall, next to the walkway.
If Morrison had half a brain he could probably figure out what happened, particularly given the fact that this other cat was female and smaller than him. Either way she only barely managed to fit through the opening, and hoped given his metal form, Morrison would not be able to follow. Not like it was some surefire escape though, the pipe didn't go that deeply into the wall before it made an ascent, so she only managed to go a little ways in and turn around to see out. Perhaps with some effort she could make the climb, but she didn't want to try if she didn't have to, and wasn't herself sure where it even went.
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Post by CJ on Sept 25, 2014 23:03:42 GMT -5
Hearing Linesk yell at Terrel made Joe extremely nervous. She reminded him of someone he held dear. She was the closest thing to a mother he ever had. The last time they talked ended badly.
His heart raced. He wondered for a moment if Terrel had anxiety. No, this was his own fear. It was his fault that Terrel and Linesk had to make such a difficult decision. If he could only hold himself together, if he hadn't let Solaine get captured, if he hadn't come to Vengeance at all. He couldn't realize that his arrival brought a new opportunity for these people. There was little good to the situation, but there was some good.
He prayed that Terrel's involvement wouldn't cause any create anymore tragedy.
Sam's voice pulled him back to the situation. He moved his hands to properly balance himself as he sat on the floor. Even back in a male body, Terrel's structure was still unfamiliar.
Joe shook his head solemnly.
"No, I don't think I can do that... unless you want me to turn back into you," he said with a long sigh. "It's hard to explain but I feel like I'm going to fall apart at any moment. A single touch would probably get me shifting again."
He moved his tattered sleeve forward so that it covered his hand. Without physically touching her skin, he was still able to take her hand in hers. A childish smile came over his face, which might have been unsettling to her, given it was Terrel's.
"This should be OK."
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Post by Kyubey on Oct 11, 2014 1:54:55 GMT -5
As Huxley transformed, she answered one question that had been in Morrison's thoughts. Specifically, she revealed to him why she could speak cat, for she was one herself. Or, at least, she could turn into one. This led to another question for the Warlord, why she could do this. The first and most logical answer was that she was a Zoan, of the Siamese cat variety. An easy solution, though not one that sat right with Morrison. There was something off about the transformation, something that did not follow the same pattern as all the other Zoan transitions he had seen, though at the moment, he couldn't place it. Furthermore, she looked too much like an actual cat. All Zoans, he found, retained some semblance of their original species after transforming. Even in their completely animal forms, Zoan users could not shed all traces of their humanity. Huxley did just that. Another troubling thing about Vengeance, and like most of the other issues, it did not have anything to do with the most important problem, which, right at the present second, was that Huxley was getting away. One thing was certain. Morrison needed her. Therefore, he could not allow this to happen. Like she had hoped, he could not follow her into the pipe, being just that much too big. This did not stop him from trying, but he only managed to squeeze in his upper torso before realized how foolish continuing would be.
"Just hold on, listen!" He shouted. "I'm not going to hurt you, Huxley. I just need to know what happened to my friend. Can you help me?"
If she tried to flee any further, then he would simply find another way to pursue her. But he hoped it wouldn't come to that. From one cat to another, even if only another in appearance, he was betting on the small chance that she would give him some degree of assistance.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Nov 11, 2014 23:53:19 GMT -5
"Alright then, so once we make it to the main lobby, we just head for the elevator well and find the proper floor from there."
"That is correct. The quicker done though, the better."
From the vast chasm below the tower, it was a relatively short trip up a service lift, and then they were in the sub-floors. It was mostly machinery and various maintenance mechanisms, which they didn't take the time to stop and examine. Heading up was the focus, so the stairs it was. Terrel went over the initial floor plan for when the reached the building proper, Brivard affirming what he said. Sam followed at the back to keep an eye on Joe as well as act lookout, but mostly so that she could duck out and hide in case they came across anyone on the way. If she were to be recognized at any point, let alone this early on, it would make the job almost impossible.
Another stairwell and they reached a door, light trickling from through the frame.
"Ok, here we are. I'll go first then, find a janitors cart or something and bring it back, then we can head across no problem."
As Terrel spoke, Sam nudged Joe in the leg with her foot to get his attention.
"Don't wor- oof!" she tripped on the stairs, scrambling to her feet once more "Don't worry if things get tense, just follow Brivard's lead, he'll know what to do if anything goes wrong. We should just be able to walk freely though."
---
"Arg, it's not worth it! Why do you care so much about her, she probably doesn't even remember you!"
As about an angry as a cat's expression could get was what Huxley had, annoyed that her escape attempt didn't work. Or rather, she did manage to get away from Morrison, but she was still stuck here. She clearly didn't want to help him any further, but she was almost literally backed into a corner now. Giving it a second thought, she eventually came to the conclusion that it would probably just be for the best if she turned him over to Jack, for what he wanted. She knew what would happen, but at this rate, the longer the cat was here the more problems arose by the minute.
"Fine, just... move out of the way. I'll take you, but believe me when I say you would do better to just leave. See how the government responds to the situation, then seek what you're after. Here right now, on your own..."
Waiting till the metal cat withdrew from the hole, or pushing past if she needed to (WHILE NOT BEING INJURED BY THE METAL SPIKES OBVEROUSLY), she leaped down from the pipe and made her way back to her clothes. Rummaging her way inside, it was a few moments before her size and shape returned quite abruptly to her usual human body. Given how all her clothes were more or less appropriately in place, it stood to reason that this was not the first time she had done this, and indeed had some practice. Of note though, that her straightjacket was no longer tied up (the long sleeves now draping down at her sides) and she hadn't managed to get the confinement mask on properly, her pretty looks and long blonde hair now exposed.
"Back to Jack we go. I'm warning you now though, he won't... react as well as I have to your questions. I hope for your sake, you can stand up to your warlord name. Otherwise, you might want to ask anything else you wanted to know before then, because I don't know how he'll take it."
Picking up the mask, she led the way at a brisk pace, back into the dark maintenance tunnels. It would be quite the trek back to the tower, and further still, back up the tower. But there was only one destination left now, if Morrison really wanted answers. Huxley just knew though, that Jack would not keep up any pretenses upon seeing Morrison still in the city.
---
After making his way into the foyer and confirming all of their beliefs, that the building was relatively low staffed and that they could more or less move about as long as they looked like they belonged, Terrel looked around and came back with a wheelie trash bin.
"Here you are Sam, your chariot awaits!"
"How appropriate. At least it's empty..."
As was the plan, Sam managed to climb into the bin and fairly successfully hide, while Brivard pushed it through the entrance hall to the elevators. Once he was across and it looked like everything was fine, Terrel opened the door once again for him and Joe to follow suit.
"Alright then, almost there. Honestly, once we make it past the first few floors I doubt we'll run into anyon-"
"Excuse me, you two." called a receptionist at an information desk they happened to be walking past at that moment. Terrel froze in place for a moment, before awkwardly turning in place and edging his way over to the desk.
"Yes ma'am?"
"You two look very much alike, what are you doing down here? There isn't an active test going on right now, is there?"
"I-I uh... we are, you see..."
Terrel caved under pressure, which Joe would not know, but was a regular thing for him. Unfortunately it was not Brivard in his place, but then they couldn't risk Joe turning into a mirror person again and so Terrel had to remain close with him. Right now though, that plan wasn't really paying off.
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Post by CJ on Nov 15, 2014 1:00:29 GMT -5
"Follow Brivard," Joe had responded to Sam just moments before. "Got it."
Even that simple instruction seemed like it carried the weight of the world. He was unused to his steps. He felt more comfortable walking than he did in Sam's body, but Terrel's still felt terribly foreign. No stride felt comfortable.
He sighed, realizing that Sam's journey wasn't very comfortable either. Sure, there was no garbage in the bin, but it certainly wasn't meant to be ridden by a humanoid.
The lobby felt all too distant. He had been in it just earlier that day, several times in fact, but it seemed like an entirely new place, through different eyes.
Unfortunately, things didn't go according to plan when a receptionist started asking questions. To his horror, Terrel succumbed to the pressure. In that moment, Joe didn't know what came over him, but he tried to act his way out of the situation. He smiled innocently.
"I'm James. And th-this is my twin bruther Neal. I told him, I told him, you see, I said, I'm sober enough to walk home. But then I blew up a firework the wrong way and ruined my fancy party suit. Aftah that, he didn't want me going home and said to stay with him until his shift was done. Now he's gunna get in trouble cause of me."
Joe stumbled and fell to hang on Terrel's shoulders. His eyelid twitched as he pointed lazily to himself.
"Don't reprimand Neal. I'm to blame, pretty miss."
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Post by Kyubey on Nov 21, 2014 0:40:46 GMT -5
Huxley, being a cat herself, would most likely notice the expression in Morrison's face after she confirmed to him that Sam was alive. While there had been a shred of hope in him ever since he stepped onto his crew's old ship, he had mostly suspected that Jack and Huxley had merely lied about the circumstances of Sam's death. Her survival changed everything, and not just in regards to his trip in Vengeance. If she survived Marineford, and whatever betrayal that had been committed afterwards, then Kusu's betrayal had not been as bad as he thought. There was nobody Morrison needed to avenge. She could still be saved. He wasn't too late, nobody was too late. Maybe, by some chance, he could fix what his weakness had caused two years ago. He could bring things back to the way they should be. Maybe there was still enough time for him to find his happiness.
"It doesn't matter to me if she doesn't remember," he said, as he moved out of the way for Huxley. "Finding her is the only thing that matters right now. It's all I have."
As briskly as Huxley walked, Morrison moved even faster, always just ahead of her. He wasn't certain how much time he had left, but he had already spent two years, and wasn't about to waste another second. Suddenly, hopefully, the time he had spent obsessively training, honing his senses and his claws to defeat most any opponent, had some real use besides issuing punishment. He had developed his mind with the intent to search for his meaning. Now that his meaning had become clearer, he could use the strength he gained to protect. Just the thought of that made him restless and eager. Still, a minor thought struck him, causing his pace to slacken only a little, allowing Huxley to catch up with him.
"I do not fear Jack, let him do as he will. I will have my answers regardless. However, I am unsure how he'll treat you, knowing you revealed such a secret to me. I can find my own way to him, if you feel your safety is at risk."
If Huxley's warning was meant to instill any sort of caution into the warlord, it was lost on him. He was too focused to worry about such wasteful things as fear. As far as he saw it, if his training, all those years of pirate hunting and improving oneself, couldn't get him any closer to Sam, he had no purpose at all.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Jan 25, 2015 3:56:18 GMT -5
"I can't say I expected better of Terrel, because I don't-"
"Hey!"
"But that was impressive, Joe. Sam says you work in a restaurant, but you should consider acting or some way to use your other skills."
Thankfully, or perhaps luckily, Joe's quick thinking afforded them the excuse they needed to get past the receptionist and through the lobby without trouble. Once she accepted his reasoning and didn't mind them moving on, it was smooth sailing from there, to reach the service area of the main floor. Unlike the undercity, the halls here were much better lighted and furnished. Though they weren't nearly as nice as the building proper, it still would have passed any inspections with flying colors, almost as if even the maintenance areas were designed to show off. A service elevator was easy to locate, to which they piled in, though Sam still had to remain in the trash just in case. Based on just a rudimentary understanding of the layout of the tower, they (or at least Brivard) knew the portions of the building that were for public access, so he took a moment to look through the possible choices. It might have taken awhile, but by process of elimination they could find where they wanted to get to.
"Next time let's just not split up like that, I'm pretty sure you guys can get buy just pretending to be a janitor team or something like that."
"Probably, yeah. We just had to make sure tha- oh, let's hope this floor is the one."
With a timely ding of the elevator, their ascent slowed, and with a thud came to rest as the doors clunked open. It was the seventh so floor like that, off the charts, but Brivard at least could tell right away that this was the one. Maybe by the sound, since this floor wasn't quiet like the previous ones. The sounds of machinery and people talking. Not so much, like a factory floor, but from the dim lights it looked like some people were working overtime while the celebrations were going on.
"Right, don't pay attention to anyone if you can help it. I expect we might see some strange things, but it should seem normal to us."
Immediately upon exit of the elevator, the group was greeted by a number of hazard, warning, and clearance signs. A rare sight in Vengeance indeed, considering anyone was usually free to go wherever they wanted. Upon making their way further into what appeared to be something of an assembly plant however, it might become apparent why. As big as a hanger, as it needed to be, was a disturbing collection of mechanical figures that looked like they belonged in some automated zoo. Horses, cats, elephants, ostriches, sharks, dogs, giraffes and more, all situated about the warehouse in relative disarray. Although at least from a stylistic standpoint, they all closely resembled their living counterparts, each figure was clearly comprised of plates and rivets and metal components. Like some perverse distortion of the natural world, the whole thing could be mistaken for some discomforting art exhibit. Perhaps thankfully though, they all seemed currently inactive, at least to some extent. While they were not moving about, and otherwise displaying their own twisted version of life, they did seem somewhat responsive. Some swayed in place, others looked to be "breathing", and all of them within a certain distance turned to look as best they could manage at the newcomers. Or perhaps just anyone who got close enough, but they always remained silent.
"Cleaning duty? Over here please!"
A few rows down was decidedly a human, one of admittedly not many left in this place. At his own workspace with just a table lamp, his and the perhaps twenty others randomly situated about the place cast a dim light across the warehouse, making frightful shadows from the constructed animals. The closest fellow whom called the group over, looked tired but busy, working away at another human sitting beside him. Or at least she seemed to be human though the point of focus, her arm which the fellow was working on, had portions of it folded to the side or actually detached as though they were parts to an apparatus. She didn't seem to mind all that much though, and with her spare hand was reading a tabloid.
"Uh... you need?" Terrel managed to choke out. Brivard was still captivated by the array of animals, and wasn't able to focus on the matter at hand.
"Admiring the Superions?" he said with a tired smile, gesturing to the animals. "Must be new to the job, you'll get used to them."
"I'm still not used to them, they're just ghastly." said the young woman with her arm currently disassembled. The mechanic, or at least that seemed to be his job, chose to ignore her for the time being.
"Just the scrap parts and rejects to recycling, your supervisor should show you the rest once you get there."
He indicated to the far side of his workspace, a heavy-duty mesh attachment full of discarded metal and broken parts, as well as what looked to be some failed attempts. Some sort of mechanical fish flopped around and snapped at the air. A handy lever beside the bin allowed for easy emptying into, assumedly, the kinds of bins that the "janitor" team had with them. Using the opportunity, the young woman took a piece of gum from her mouth and flicked it into the narrow opening of the bin where the lid hadn't been closed all the way, but sufficiently obscured any contents within.
"You fellas don't suppose you could take me with you? I was supposed to be going to a dance with some friends." she looked to the others earnestly, though the mechanic responded flatly to shut her down.
"You're welcome to leave, I just hope you can do the Lindy Hop with one arm." with an errant gesture he directed the janitor team to the other workspaces as well. "See how many you can clear before you need to get another bin, then just come back with more next time. It shouldn't take three of you to cart around just the one."
---
"Oh don't worry about me. He won't hurt me."
She almost laughed as she spoke, considering what Morrison suggested to be utterly absurd. For sure it was a legitimate concern, but to her it was just terribly out of place. Either way, the cat was resolute, so she had only to make good on her namesake and act the messenger. Or rather guide, but there would certainly be delivered a message. It was a long ways to go as usual, Morrison would probably be used to it, at least when they returned to the city proper and eventually the tower itself. At this point though, at least for Huxley, the whole trek almost seemed like a daze. There was only one thing to focus on, and they had already done so much walking around, that a lot of it kind of just went by in a blur. She was rudely pulled back to reality though, when their own elevator reached towards the upper floors of the tower. Taking a step out onto the marble floor before she reached the red carpet, she paused to look out the great window still smashed open despite the efforts of several workers to try and patch it up.
"If you're not afraid of him that's good, to be honest I don't think anyone should really be afraid of him. It's not like he's irrational or even unpredictable."
Her words kind of just trailed off, as though she had something on her mind that she wanted to get across, but decided against it mid-speaking. Instead, she just continued to lead the way, though at this point she had a feeling that Morrison needed neither her help nor her input. She just continued on now, because it was her job. A small change in that they weren't headed to the ballroom this time, or the VIP rooms, but something decidedly less grand; a kitchen. It was probably apparent beforehand from the smell, but Morrison might also be able to tell from the regular kitchen sounds within. Huxley though, stopped one last time with a hand to the door, before moving inside.
"Just don't try to reason with him. No one can, not anymore."
With a flash of light, she held open the door for the cat. The place seemed quite busy with people talking about the hostages and how to accommodate them, all sorts of food being prepared and the like. Someone somewhere had a jaunty tune to accompany the work, playing off some odd electronic device, but all of that was probably outside of the cat's interest or focus.
"Back so soon? I thought it would have taken longer than that, to deliver the news to... well, anyone really."
Jack was off to the side of the kitchen at a cleared space where a map had been laid out, detailing the waters around the country. He wasn't alone and had a few comrades helping him with some sort of written plan, though the lot of them were distinct of any of the kitchen staff and seemingly had just chosen this place to work amidst the hustle and bustle.
"Or is it that you just couldn't bring yourself to leave our very own slice of heaven? If you really wanted to stay, all you had to do was ask! You can even join us if you like, everyone is welcome in the homeguard!"
He didn't look up to see at first, it seemed that he could tell of Morrisons approach just by the sound of the cat, even over all the other commotion in the background. When he did turn his attention to the warlord though, his grin stretched ear to ear, interrupted if only for a moment when he saw Huxley.
"Oh no, what happened to your jacket?"
"It got snagged on something, I'll ask someone to fasten it later."
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Post by CJ on Jan 27, 2015 23:00:15 GMT -5
"I... uh..."
Joe's face flushed red. He hadn't ever considered that he was a good actor before. He figured he developed the skill after learning to imitate Nathan for so long, not just in physical form but in personality to help his brother get out of otherwise irritating situations.
Unfortunately, his success didn't seem to last long. Seeing the automated zoo put Joe into a sort of trance. He had forgotten what Brivard warned them about. It was obvious he had never seen these things before or at least was entirely captivated by them.
He walked with the others, but his mind seemed to be caught in a dream. He could understand the woman's mechanical arm quite well. After studying Connor's cyborg body from Seven Gates, he could proudly say that he had some understanding in how the arm worked and what its function was. He could not understand the animals.
What was the purpose behind these Superions?
His mind snapped back to the focus of the mission. Things were turning sour. They couldn't just load the metal into the same bin as Sam. He could just imagine the fish's tail flopping and scratching at her face. He fell back into drunken acting mode.
"Oh no. We can't take this one to recycling... heheh... heh... I rather sort of let my stomach loose in it just a while back... I don't even know I'm doing here... Oh yeah... he's looking after me... don't be too hard on my brother... he's just trying to me me... heh..."
He went to put his arm around Terrel but stopped before things got too awkward. As he stumbled and leaned onto the bin for support, his eyes rolled over to peer lazily at the one armed woman.
"Better step back... ma'am... I think I'm going to puke again..."
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Post by Kyubey on Jan 28, 2015 20:26:46 GMT -5
Morrison very nearly did not even notice his surroundings during the trip back to Jack. When he had learned that Sam had died, from Jack's own mouth no less, everything he had planned and known in the world felt like it had been snatched from him, forcing him to replace what he had lost with obsession. Now, with the recent news that she might very well be alive, it was like his old mentality had come crashing on top of his new one. The result was still the same, he would have to either avenge his friend, or protect her like he had failed to do so many times already, but the revelation was heavy, considering how fast it had come. There was enough going on internally for Morrison, that he did not give much attention to the outside. It was only when Huxley began speaking to him, that he snapped back into the moment.
"Good. That is fine. Thank you."
Huxley's words, while probably meant as a warning, only gave the cat a sense of relief. He was in no mood for his usual diplomacy, and knew that he most likely had no time to waste. So learning that Jack couldn't be reasoned with, but at the same time wasn't irrational either, only gave him an excuse to be honest and direct. After that, all he could do was hope that Jack would recognize this, and show him the same courtesy.
He mewled with quiet annoyance when they went into the kitchen. Normally, Morrison's heightened senses were his biggest advantage over humans, but there were certainly times and places when his sensitivity to stimuli was less than ideal. The sounds and smells hit him all at once, nearly overwhelming him. They even had a musician, as if to make things all the worse for him. It was a challenge to stay completely on task in the midst of what was, to him, absolute chaos, but he was trained enough to manage, and in a few moments, had blocked out most of the distractions, save for the most vital details, which he silently observed.
When he and Huxley finally reached Jack, Morrison sat down, and stared right up at him. He spent but a second looking at the other figures around him, assessed their potential threat level should something go wrong, and then looked back at their leader. While Jack talked, Morrison was completely still, with his gaze locked onto the man, following his every motion. With his metallic outer form, an outsider might have thought that Morrison was a statue of a cat, with how motionless he was. He waited patiently for Jack to finish talking, before giving his own response.
"I decided to stay and get to know the island for myself, before leaving to give my report," he mewled, trusting Huxley to interpret for him once again. "Vengeance has treated me rather well. Although, it did sadden me a little, to see the condition the Elton Johnson is in."
When he mentioned the Phantom Hawk's ship, his eyes narrowed, and his tone deepened. Despite the language barrier between the two, Jack would likely have recognized Morrison's inflections, as being similar to that of a regular cat who had identified a threat, but was not about to attack just yet. If Jack was as smart as those around him seemed to think, he would have been able to tell what Morrison was getting at.
"Let me get to the point. What happened to Samantha Faro, and where is she?"
After he had finished speaking, he shifted his gaze to Huxley, waiting for her to translate. With any luck, the guide would understand the cat's intentions, and carry over the same meaning into human speak, on top of directly translating his words.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 14, 2015 23:20:26 GMT -5
Joe's attempts at subterfuge worked rather well, at least as they needed it to. When he brought up puke, the woman being attended to freaked out.
"No! Not here, get lost! I just bought this dress!" she screamed as she tried to jump up and otherwise get away from Joe, in the process snapping some of the tethers attached to her arm and causing an unknown level of damage to herself. The mechanic seemed to expect this, and pulled a lever to retract some of the remaining tethers to draw her closer again, grumbling all the way.
"Too much partying eh? No problem, I don't think anyone will mind, just please be a bit more sensible next time... and bring more than one cart!"
He spoke in admonishment, but not in any particularly angry manner. He was more just annoyed at the waste of time and effort while he set about fixing the arm more than he had needed to before.
"Right well, we'll get out of your way then. Alright guys, let's see if we can't make it back in minutes."
"Right-o, sorry for the delay."
Brivard was able to better focus on the matter at hand, and spoke up to answer the mechanic, and to allow them the chance to leave without suspicion. Terrel gave a sheepish apology as well, to which the mechanic waved them off but didn't turn his attention from the arm he had to restore. Shuffling backwards and away, getting the cart moving again towards where they wanted to go was handled with relative ease now. As they paced through the dim warehouse towards a common access elevator (rather than the service lift they had used to get this far up the tower), the automatons they approached and subsequently left behind continued to watch. Perhaps it was a bit eerier now, that they were leaving the few remaining workers behind as well as their lighted work spaces, so it was getting significantly darker. Fortunately, the elevator they were headed to, had safety lighting to help locate.
"Wait, so is he going to puke or not?"
A fishy voice emanated from the trash cart, a sense of worry clear to hear in the words.
---
As Morrison mewed and meowed and cat noised his point across, Jack hopped up on a counter nearby to take a seat as he waited.
"He said he didn't like the state the Elton Johnson is in."
"The what?"
Jack didn't even stop to think about Huxley's translation, in expressing his confusion. His plain expression and effortless manner in asking, demonstrated the complete and utter lack of knowledge or even care about what she spoke of. She of course had expected him to answer in some manner befitting him, but his response was so sudden and concise, completely lacking emotion that she was taken aback herself. Although her own expression couldn't be seen because of the confinement mask, her stance and hesitation to respond made clear a sense of fremdschämen.
"...Sam's ship."
Without missing a beat and with his characteristic smile, Jack spoke aloud rather than directly to either Morrison or Huxley.
"Say Comrades, we wouldn't still happen to have the old construction plans for the port from the days of the old monarchy, would we?"
It seemed he spoke mostly to get the other persons there to vacate the area, because they assumedly set about on his request as soon as he asked and left the kitchen. With the three of them afforded some relative privacy now (the chefs still toiled, but towards their own part of the kitchen), Huxley felt now at least that she didn't have to be as careful about translating what Morrison said.
"He also wants to know-"
"I know what he wants."
Jack brought his hand to his mouth, rubbing the lower half of his face. Notably, his smile was gone.
"De mortuis nil nisi bonum." he took a deep breath, "She's gone, or as well as one can be. She made this country with her own two hands, damn well carried it on her back to victory... but the country didn't need her anymore, not if it was to move forward. Unfortunately, Samantha Faro and Vengeance are mutually exclusive."
While he spoke, with a free hand he pulled out a deck of cards and began to shuffle them with just the one hand. The action made the chains of his bonds rattle as a result. It wasn't that he was disinterested, or as disinterested as he was before, it just helped him to think.
"We purport her death because the country needs it, and because it keeps Government ire from her, she has a bounty you know. Of course, she's still somewhere in the country despite our best efforts to find her, probably hiding in the undercity. You will believe me though, when I say we will kill her if we find her."
With that he extended his hand towards Morrison as if expecting a response, which he was prepared to answer of course. It was a little weird obviously, since Huxley was really the one they were talking to rather than one another.
---
"So we know now what 'Superion' means when Jack and his lot talk about them, though I'm not really sure what to make of it all. Beyond the strange creativity of it all, of course."
"That lady he was working with, the one with the arm, she was one of the Inferions. I can't see how she... or at least once she's fixed up, would be less than one of these metal animal things?"
They could converse freely now in the elevator as it made its ascent up the tower, and Sam had actually climbed out of the cart. Not only did she need a breather after being cramped up in the bin, but also by this point their janitor disguises were no longer useful. If someone saw them in the upper levels of the tower dressed as basic servicemen, it would actually be more suspicious than just some folks looking like lost citizens. As well, by this point they were so deep (or rather, high up) in enemy territory that if something happened and they needed to make a break for it, Sam being stuck inside a trash cart would only be a hindrance.
"Joe, your friend Solaine... I've been meaning to ask but didn't have the chance, I saw her when I pulled you out of trouble. I don't know if you remember but she was pretty bad off. I know you said she could survive it, but if we find her, will she be able to make it out of here without help?"
Sam spoke to Joe with some level of difficulty, since it wasn't the easiest subject to address. She had wanted to bring it up earlier but wasn't sure how. Unfortunately, there might not be another chance to talk about it after this.
"Hey yeah, you'll be able to tell it's her if we do find her right? Do you even remember her?"
Terrel gave a side comment of his conversation with Brivard, perhaps a rather thoughtless comment, because Brivard shoved him with a stern look.
"-sorry! Sorry..."
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Post by CJ on Feb 18, 2015 0:35:19 GMT -5
Joe felt more at ease when his shoddy plan worked. He couldn't imagine what they would have done if metal trash had been loaded into the bin with Sam. It was a close escape. He was grateful that the woman was as disgusted as she was.
Walking timidly with the rest of them, he listened closely to Terrel and Brivard's conversation.
"This is just an idea, but maybe the words could refer to the level of organic content Superions and Inferions have. The woman back there was at least partially human. The animals didn't seem like they were alive at all, just walking husks. That's a guess though."
He was glad to see Sam out of the trash bin, but his happiness soon wore off when he realized the weight of the situation. He looked at the ground, almost trying to avoid looking directly at her.
"I don't know..."
But then Terrel joked that he wouldn't recognize Solaine.
"What, of course I would!" Joe said defensively with the same voice as Terrel, almost as though the man was arguing with himself. "I just... don't think she'll recognize me. She doesn't know what I really am. I never told her. I didn't think I ever would have to."
He clutched his one arm in nervousness. He hadn't even thought of how he was supposed to approach Solaine at this point. How was she supposed to believe him if he told her that he was who he was? He'd seem like an insane psychopath who stole her friend's clothes. He tried desperately to think of something, anything to prove his case.
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 27, 2015 21:39:45 GMT -5
As Huxley translated Morrison's words, albeit in the safest and most brief manner imaginable, the Warlord felt a mix of frustration, anger, and, strangely enough, pleasure. Finally, he thought he was speaking to Jack honestly, with no restrictions. The language itself still was not all too direct, but his intentions were far more transparent. And, thankfully, Morrison no longer had a need to hide his own motives, since they were already known by all parties involved. Now that Sam being alive was laid out, and stated plainly, the cat could begin to negotiate.
What he wanted more than anything was to simply think with his claws and kill Jack on the spot, for even daring to harm Sam. It seemed easy enough, it would solve nearly every one of his problems, and most importantly, doing so would give him so much satisfaction. Which is precisely why he held himself back. Jack wouldn't have been so open, if he thought he was in danger. For all Morrison could tell, turning to violence so quickly would just be another part of Jack's plan. Not certain, but possible enough for Morrison to refrain. Not to mention Huxley's rather cryptic warnings, which he did not disregard.
"You'd kill your nation's hero out of convenience? Or perhaps, self-gain?" he meowed. "What an unpleasant choice that must be. But, suppose there was some other way?"
After Jack had finished speaking, Morrison leapt up onto the kitchen counter. There was no practical purpose for doing so, save for being that much closer to being able to look Jack straight in the eye. He was speaking as much to Huxley as he was to Jack by this point, knowing that most of his own words would be abridged significantly. At certain points, he glanced pointedly to Huxley, making sure she could, at the very least, maintain the full meaning of what he said.
"You will remember, I have yet to give my report to the World Government regarding this island and your... recent actions. As you might very well imagine, how I choose to word this report can drastically affect the fate of Vengeance. You of course must be well aware of how volatile my masters are when it comes to their beloved nobles. How they receive the news could spell the difference between peace and complete tragedy. Whichever one you'd prefer."
He knew he was directly threatening both Jack and his country, but did not care. After Jack, without hesitation, said that he would kill Sam, Morrison was only responding point-for-point.
"Now, we pirates, simple things that we are, place a great amount of value on our shipmates. It's this connection that brought me to this island to begin with, and it's what's making me cause you all this trouble. I very much intend to keep my shipmate, alive and safe, and will not take any news of her being harmed lightly. If she were to die by your orders... well, that need not happen, and so we need not think of it. She can stay dead, officially, without the spilling of any blood, if you are willing to listen. I can take Sam away from Vengeance. Discreetly, silently, gone. Nobody here need ever hear from her again. We can go back to our pirate's life, Vengeance can go on as you have planned, all shall be well. Most importantly, if I can be reunited with Sam, if she is able to leave here alive, then I will owe you a tremendous debt. I may be a cat, but I am still a Warlord. I need not tell you all the ways in which my friendship can be beneficial to you. Including the means in which I tell the government about what I saw here. Depending on how pleased I am, I might even use your exact wording." here he glanced ever so briefly in Huxley's direction, and then spoke as pointedly as a cat can, "You can have everything you want, as can I. All that requires is Sam's assured safety. So, do you accept?"
Huxley may have advised him to not try and reason with Jack, but now Morrison couldn't say that he didn't try. Already, depending on the answer he was given, several alternate plans were being formed in his head. Hopefully, however, he wouldn't need to resort to any of them.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Mar 1, 2015 3:24:04 GMT -5
"Well, as long as you can point her out to us, we'll do our best to get her out of here. Even if she can't move on her own, we should be able to make it back to lower maintenance even if we're being followed."
"...and by then they won't be able to catch us. Let's just hope she's capable of being moved, if she's in like, intensive care I don't know what we can do."
Brivard counted the floors during the elevator's ascent, while Terrel remained as unhelpful as usual. Sam meanwhile didn't speak up because she tried to keep focus off of her, probably for good reason. She wasn't feeling well at all, and a trouble breathing was the likely culprit. She was doing a pretty good job not coughing as usual though, so her two comrades hadn't noticed. It was the last thing they needed and she wanted right now, so just tried to make herself look busy with changing her clothes. A jumpsuit, along with a bucket hat and sunglasses as big as her eyes were. A close inspection and it was obvious, but it might throw some people off on a first glance.
"I believe we'll know everything in due time, we're here."
A slowed rise and a chime indicated their destination at the highest floor these public elevators would go to. The intricate doors slid open with an observable degree of care, letting in a blast of cold air. The red carpet of the elaborate high hall was clear before them, alongside the array of other elevators. The most obvious detail though was of course, the great broken window that Joe had himself already gone out before. Fortunately because of this though, the area was fairly alive with activity, so they were free of any immediate focus.
"Alright guys, let's do this right."
Brivard was first, and Terrel was more comfortable with going last. They had to be careful not to bump into anyone at least initially though, but once out they wouldn't have much problem maneuvering through the various peoples about, as long as they paid attention. The trick was, to just appear as though they belonged, and the persons who did belong wouldn't notice them as much.
---
Huxley wanted to wait till the warlord was completely finished with speaking before she translated, so his moving came before she could. It was Jack though who acted, and when he saw what Morrison wanted to do, he shifted in place. Not so much moving over, as just kind of turning a little so he could better face the warlord to his side, doing so with an almost childish grin. Or more actually, a child looking to play with a cat.
"Oh you want to come up? Here!" he said, as he patted the counter top, "Mee-oow, kitty kitty!"
The more Morrison went on though, the more weary Huxley looked, since she knew it was more and more that would invariably be lost in translation. She'd do her best, and she realized the conversation was important, perhaps the most important one since the revolution ended. Still, she couldn't help but feel perhaps a little bit, that Morrison was taking advantage of her. At least to an extent where she didn't feel it was fair if he got angry for what she did or did not say.
"He said... ugh-"
She began to speak, but facepalmed and shook her head. Seeing this, Jack let out a loud "Ha!", since he knew exactly what the situation was and why it was a problem. Still, he made no effort to make things easier for her, and seemed to be getting a kick out of this. Of note that he was interrupted (though he didn't have to maintain his focus on the meowing much) by a fellow citizen. He seemed upset at first that they would approach him like this after he'd made clear he didn't want to be bothered at this time, but it seemed what they whispered to him livened his spirits a fair amount. At least enough that he burst out laughing for a short moment, before thanking and dismissing them, which point he returned his attention to Morrison. Still though, all the while he seemed to be just barely containing his mirth, like he was still remembering some funny joke.
"He said he doesn't believe your reason why you want her dead. He says though that if you want her gone, he'd be willing to take her away, quietly so no one knew. I guess keep her away as well? Anyway, he says if you do this he'll be in your debt. Lastly, he also wants you to know that he hasn't yet delivered your message to the Government. He also wants to remind you that they of all people, are not the most delicate with matters like this... matters with World Nobles. He says if you want him to properly deliver the message and have it interpreted the way you want it, you'll consider his offer."
She nodded slightly to herself as she spoke, and it could be surmised that she was probably running over the details in her head before she spoke, trying to make sure she didn't miss anything or mess anything up. When she felt like she more or less covered it all, she nodded more distinctly to herself once more and took a deep breath.
"So basically, and I'm exactly quoting him on this, 'You can have everything you want, as can he. All that requires is Sam's assured safety.' and he wants to know if you will accept this... well I guess it's a deal, yeah."
When Jack was sure she was finished, he clapped and acted disingenuously in a manner as though he were celebrating the end of some great artistic performance, though it was clearly sarcasm. This was made all the harder to ignore by the rattling of the shackles about his wrists.
"Bravo, bravo! Encore! Simply splendid!"
Settling down a bit in short order, he finally returned his attention to the warlord for his answer, which it seemed like he hadn't even had to think about.
"Well Morrison, as they say, parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. You present a fair and logical case, with which I cannot argue nor find fault. For both our sakes, you will have what you want... and as a matter of fact, if that messenger earlier is to be believed, then I believe she is both here and now. Come then, shall we? Let's go and see Sam again."
Clapping his hands together and rubbing them in affirmation (or perhaps anticipation), he hopped off the table and proceeded at a fair pace towards the doors through which Morrison had come. Huxley waited for the cat to go, if indeed he wanted to follow, but he might be able to notice that she didn't seem at all perturbed. Assumedly given all the secrecy they had surrounded Sam with and the worry that had been seen at her mention, this would be worthy of some sort of alert or protocol of the highest urgency. When Samantha Faro herself was apparently in the same building though, if anything Huxley just seemed defeated and went through the motions thereafter only because she was supposed to. Certainly not even nearly as lively as Jack seemed to be, as if she was as unhappy with the prospect of meeting Sam again, as much as he was happy with it.
"I have to ask though, Morrison, what will you do..." he called behind him as he pushed through the kitchen doors, "...if she doesn't want to leave?"
---
The temporary holding area, if it could be called that, was probably in more opportune times a proper dining hall. What Joe had seen earlier and had actually been dining in, was actually a ballroom simply converted for a different purpose since it was overall a much larger and grander room. In this case though, keeping the hostages in check was the first concern, and things like exuberance were secondary. That said, the room was still quite impressive even cleared of the assumed tables and chairs. With patterned carpet, fanciful wall decorations and stylistic architecture, contrasted with the sheer immensity of the polished stone floor and high ceilings of the ball room, it felt much warmer in here.
They had managed to find it in the first place, when some quick thinking after nearly being caught, allowed for them to act as though Sam were another hostage to be delivered all the while without actually exposing her identity. In this regard, they were afforded a general pass to get where they needed to go, complete with continued directions when they needed it. All in all though, the room was really not that far from the one Joe had already been in.
"Try to get away from us, will you prisoner? This ought to teach you!"
Terrel got a little carried away with his assumed role, and walked Sam over to a cot before pushing her on it. He stood out somewhat because of this though, since despite the much higher level of activity in this room, none of the other guards seemed to be acting with as much hostility. Or even, hostility at all. The place was quite full with hostages from all walks of life, but they were all being treated roughly the same way; with as much respect and care as anyone else. It seemed rather than trying to imprison the guests there by bars or force, Jack and his lot sought to keep them there with kindness, and citizens were abound to tend to any needs the guests may have or fulfill any requests they had. Certainly they were still hostages and weren't allowed to leave, and certainly some of them remained aloof and wanted nothing to do with their captors, but it couldn't be said that they were not being taken care of.
In this regard, the guests had to some extend been organized in the room, roughly by importance but mostly by cooperation. World Nobles were of the highest concern for probably obvious reasons, but even so they were still generally situated among either the cooperative or the non-cooperative. The former group of which it seemed, one by one (or family by family) were being led out of the room and as it was being explained, back to their own personal rooms within the tower rather than being made to spend more time in the temporary holding area.
"So then, it's up to you now, Joe. The sooner you find your friend, the sooner you can leave."
Brivard hung back with Joe, prepared to help and or follow him if need be.
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