IC: Dawn of the Artifacts., In Character Thread. Options

[Chrysalis]

Vera listens to Dexter gives his old man of the mountain speech. She'd hard it ages ago, but it was still a good speech.

"If we could back in time a lot of problems would be solved. But since we can't we have to look forward. I think both of us need to have a chat with Dartha and then you have a group chat with everyone. Let's play by army rules and then nobody starts playing solo. We need a little more iron fist in us. Scare us a bit. We are adults and if we can't take cold hard reality we should be working for Horizon."

"Let's also face it, we have the client with us and if we can't behave professionally in front of her, we won't work as a team when trouble comes."

"I'll keep an eye on Dartha if you continue being the voice of common sense. You'll have enough trouble with keeping us in line without an additional person to concern you with."

Vera took a hold of Dexter's metal hand and looked him in the eye, her features softened as she brushed her hair from her face. "Thanks for the chat."

[Mister Juan]

I know she’s touching my hand. The cyber nerves ending at telling me she is, but I’m not actually “feeling it”. I get a vague sensation of how soft her hand is, and the warmth it carries. But I don’t actually feel it. I just get told.

For a moment, I’m torn between sighing and laughing. Sighing because, by the looks of things, the gal wants me to run the show. Laughing because…. well, laughing because of the same exact fucking reason. Problem is none of these guys have military training. We haven’t even drilled together on anything. We don’t know each other and have no fucking clue how everyone will react. I mean, that tarmac ambush could have gone south real easy, with everyone running around doing their thing.

I nod a few times as she smiles.

“Aight. I’ll have a word with Dartha tomorrow morning. I ain’t got no clue how she’s gonna take it, so watch your back anyways.”

[Chrysalis]

Vera looks at Dexter and touches his other hand with hers. She holds both of his hands with hers. He looks him in the eyes.

"Thanks. I think we'll shape up. Do you want me to stay?"

[Mister Juan]

For a second there, I think I forget how to swallow.

“Sure… Yea… No problem.”

[pbangarth]

{{From a formless void, a latticework of ten glowing spheres connected by dully glinting, tubular bars appears. Some of the connecting bars run horizontally, some vertically, some on the diagonal. The spheres are huge, maybe ten meters across, and the bars extend for twice that length.

Hodder hangs from the lowest horizontal bar, holding on with both hands. He scrambles up onto the bar and sits there, trying to figure out where he is. The latticework seems familiar... he should know what it is, but can't place it. Laughter comes from above.

Hodder looks up, and sees a large monkey, with the head and face of Samriel Lockwood. It points at him, and laughs again. Hodder climbs toward it, but it scrambles away. No matter how he tries, Hodder can't catch the monkey-man. As he chases, Hodder passes close to one sphere, then another. Each seems to radiate an emotion, or state of being. One makes him feel powerful and commanding, another loving. One makes him analytical, another nurturing. None of this matters to him, as the chase consumes his attention. Nevertheless, he fails to catch his quarry. They rise to the top of the latticework and the monkey-man leaps upwards, disappearing into the void. Hodder is left alone, by the top sphere, feeling suddenly silly for chasing at all. A peaceful emptiness comes over him. He feels rested... content...}}

Hodder snaps awake. A few seconds later the commlink alarm sounds. "That was weird." The aches and pains of yesterday seem gone. He does some stretches and calisthenics. Yes, he seems to have healed the drain of yesterday's abortive summoning. Excellent. He quickly washes, but decides not to shave. A little stubble, particularly his dark beard, will make him look a bit older. he heads downstairs for the 7 a.m. meet with the bellboy. Dexter is there in the chair in the hallway. Hodder shakes his head, "Have you been there all night?"

Dexter smiles strangely, and shakes his head no.

"Well, thanks for the good night's sleep. I'm off to language class. With care and luck, I will be ready for my share of watch duty tonight."

The boy is waiting for him at Peaceful's kiosk. "Good morning, honoured sir," the boy says in unaccented English. "Good morning to you, young man. Your English is very good. I bet you know many languages."

"I speak five dialects of Lagos, and six foreign languages. I am known far and wide in the city as a most excellent translator and guide. I would like you to know that you have hired the best there is to teach you, generous sir."

Hodder laughs a bellyful. "Well, then, I am sure the price you ask will be adequate and fair." Once the price is negotiated and payment is made, they go to the dining room. A few sideways glances at the boy from some of the staff are fended off by Hodder's peremptory physical and conversational inclusion of the boy in his personal space. "My name is Hodder. What is yours?"

"I am called Konlobgue. I come from the north." They settle into their seats at a table with a view of the courtyard, and begin the Lagos City-Speak language lesson. Hodder explains that he is a good student and will press Konlobgue to teach him as much as possible in the next few hours. The boy seems skeptical... he has heard this from travellers before, but Hodder soon surprises him. Nouns and names of food items soon shift to verbs and tenses. By the end of the meal, during which the boy eats prodigiously, Hodder is putting simple sentences together. An hour later, he has command of several hundred nouns and verbs, and can make past and future constructs. He still sounds like a foreigner, but his meaning gets through.

As they rise from the table, Konlobgue grabs a few more pieces of fruit from the bowl Hodder ordered, and places them into some of the many pockets spread throughout his clothes. "Handy clothes, those, for one with nimble fingers," Hodder thinks.

"I must say, esteemed Hodder, that you are the best student I have ever had. It was a pleasure to teach you, and you may count on me again if you ever need to learn more, or to have a guide through the city." Konlobgue extends his hand in the European fashion.

Hodder shakes the boy's hand. "Thank you, Konlobgue-of-the-many-tongues. May you prosper and grow wealthy. I will surely call for you, if ever I need your skills." They go their separate ways. Hodder retires to his room, and prepares to summon an elohim for the day. With luck, there may be the opportunity to track the quarry this day, so Hodder decides on a Task Spirit that can track. He opens himself to the flow of mana about him, and concentrates it into small streams that intertwine and knit a form before him in astral space. The rest must have done him good, as the summoning seems effortless. Maybe the trouble on the plane got some kinks out. He could only hope.

"Come, O elohim, walk with me, and lend me your strength. I am on the hunt this day, and welcome your help."

"Hunt it is? Pleases me this does. Come I will!" The spirit wraps itself around the astral form of Hodder, and the weaving of the spirit slowly implicates itself into Hodder's form, using that connection to pass into the material plane, and into Hodder's body. A dark earthiness comes over Hodder's complexion, and his eyes take on just a hint of feline characteristics. With the spirit's physical power added to his own, and his spells wrapped around him, Hodder holsters his pistol, puts on his shades, and steps out into the hallway and heads to meet Jane and Hawkeye.