[ Been a while.

If you're here, you'll likely catch sight of Omega bursting onto the plane - with purpose, like she's running from (or to?) something, and it seems important. Her forward momentum does slow after a few paces, and she finally stops, looking around for a sign of... well, anyone at all. ]

Excuse me! Someone! Someone who's... been around? Preferably. Please?

[ My, she's even more flustered than when some of the residents surprised her last time... ]

I read something. I-In the archives. And then I... I don't know, felt something different, and... L-Look, I just have a feeling. And I have a theory, but I need to talk to--

[ ... or not. Omega vanishes. ]



(( ooc: mingle amongst yourselves as you want, but Omega will not be returning or responding. ♥ ))

[Out on the Plane, a strange recovery bed appears, complete with an armored Freelancer clinging to the edges off it. He's screaming and suddenly jolts and flails until he tumbles off the bed and falls silent. He doesn't move right away. Then finally, he lets out a groan]

Ugh... My head...

[He's still not right, he can feel it. The others told him he'd have a headache and stuff, but this... There's something wrong with him. Why does he keep having these weird flashes...?

Slowly, he tries to get up, but his limbs feel so heavy. It's a struggle to even touch his helmeted head. And he's hungry too. Just how long has he been out??]



[ooc: So, Wash has gone through with his surgery to get Epsilon implanted in his head! Surgery...was not effective, though. I figure the MoI has crashed, but Wash doesn't exactly know what's gone on, not being stuck in the recovery room as he is.]

[Wolfgang is exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes and his fingers tremble beneath his dirty sleeves. After a day or so of taking notes and conferring with his group, he clears a spot in the library for everyone to sit.]

I'd like to call a meeting. If you know someone is outside but close by, you can go tell them to come back. I'll wait.

[He does wait for at least an hour. By then he's procured some snacks and tea for everybody in attendance and passes them around.]

We... can't do this forever. I know, you've all fought your hardest and and I appreciate that. So does everyone else here. But we need to push back. I've finally figured out how, thanks to some intelligence.

[He lays out a map of the Plane. It's pretty well-drawn, all things considered.]

So here's the library, where we are now. Way over here-- this is where Tian's group is directing everything from. Tian himself is actually holed up in the shop right now, but we can't approach it because he's wrapped himself in magic and wards and whatever else. In the meantime, he has those cultists doing things for him. If we stop them, we can stop all of this.

There's three cultists. I don't know their names but I can tell what their specialties are by watching. One of them is guiding the ice elementals, one of them is directing the angels, and then there's one controlling all the undead. There's three of them and four of my group, so everyone will get some help. We'll attack them at the same time, with three teams.

It's... risky. I'm not asking anyone to lay down their lives for this unless they have to. But if something happens, we will stop at nothing to bring you back. To make you okay again.

After they're taken care of, we'll strike at Tian.

Who wants to volunteer?

[Two figures face each other. The space between them feels like miles.]

I knew you'd come back. [Wolfgang is still dressed in his unassuming suit and he is alone. It's a stark contrast to Da Tian, who is wearing a full set of wicked cult-like robes in azure and gold. Three black-cowled figures stand beside him, their faces obscured, but wearing similar gold patterns on their cloaks. Wolf straightens.] This is where it ends. I won't allow you to sacrifice these people for your new world.

[Tian shakes his head.] They hardly need to be sacrificed-- but that is up to you. We can still end this without bloodshed, Wolfgang Albrecht. Just give over control to me. You know the deepest recesses of it by now, do you not? You know that the possibilities are endless. Give up on Thalei. Join me, old friend.

[Wolf's eyes flash fire-red.] These are my people, too, and I'll protect them even if I die! I won't let the Machine fall into the hands of someone who's hurt them! JHIL, THE WARDS!

[There's a bright, almost blinding purple light as force fields appear over the kitchen and the library.]

Impressive. [Tian smiles like a knife, and it stretches far too wide to be friendly.] Their lives are on your shoulders now, Wolfgang.

[Tian and his lieutenants shimmer out of sight. The ground quakes and trembles. Without warning, something rips through space. It's a huge ice elemental, and it paves the way for an army of skeletons, constructs, angels, and slimy eyeless beasts from the water.

Wolf calls out across the Plane. Jhil, Roen, and the small statured Shaman all step out to guard the cluster of buildings that have formed the backbone of the Plane for ages.]

NOW'S THE TIME TO FIGHT! IF YOU CAN'T, TAKE SHELTER!

[ooc: The plot has begun! Feel free to make your own toplevels, and/or use the elemental toplevel for ease of planning because they're HUGE.

The lieutenant battles will go up in a week according to the timeline, and Wolf will be organizing the teams in a few days ICly.

This post is for mingling, medical stuff, and people defending the town.]

[North's in the mansion, putting away food after a trip to the kitchen. He's humming to himself and debating what to make for lunch. Leaving the island the mansion's on isn't exactly something he's thinking of doing right now. His hand and feet up to his calves are all glittery and sparkly thanks to wading in the water off the patio steps and using his hand his hand as an oar. He glances at his hand now, frowning slightly at it, and while he continues to think about what he wants, he heads over to the sink to try to wash the sparkles off.]

[It doesn't work. He's still at it a few minutes later, scrubbing his hand, when he spots a few pieces of chocolate hanging out behind the box he used to transport food.]

Huh, when did those get there?

[From inside his mind, a little quizzical voice adds:] Dunno, maybe we didn't notice?

Maybe... [He dries his still glittery hand on his pants and wanders over to grab one of the pieces. He turns it over in his fingers; it looks like a regular piece of chocolate. It doesn't look much different from the chocolate he can find back home. It smells delicious too he discovers after shrugging and unwrapping it to pop it into his mouth. The appealing scent plus a rumble from his stomach finally makes up his mind about what to do with it.]

Theta, if anything weird happens to me, find Patricia.

O-okay! [Theta agrees, but wonders why North thinks something might happen.]


~*~*~*~*~*~

[Elsewhere, Loki's in the bar, curled up in a corner with a very pained expression on his face. He's not dressed in his normal leather clothing, but rather a black fabric tunic and pair of trousers with his regular black boots. His hair is unkempt and sweat is beading on his skin. On a table nearby are a few foil wrappers, empty of their contents.]

What vile degenerate has dared to poison me?! [He lets out a groan, a hand pressed to his chest.] My chest feels as though it has been set aflame...!

[What he wouldn't give to have more of his powers. Why Odin saw it fit to banish him.... He was only trying to rule in his stead! Odin, the man who knew what he was and forced him to think of him as "Father" for all those years! All he ever wanted was to prove himself worthy as a son of Odin, and banishment is all he could be rewarded with...]

[He glances at his hand, trying to carefully breathe and keep his mind off the assault in his chest, knowing he cannot yield most of his magic. Odin managed to strip him of just about everything, but he is not powerless. No, that much he can feel. There is some magic within him, but he is nowhere near the sorcerer he once was. And once he has figured out a way to quench the flames, he will be better equipped to test what powers he has left.]

[If only he hadn't eaten that accursed chocolate...]


[ooc: Take your pick! Or hit both, I don't mind <3 (We'll pretend I hit "send" before falling asleep last night.) Anyway, North is going to be cuddly and physically affectionate, but Loki, now in a mortal-state thanks to being banned and stripped of his powers, is now experiencing a very bad case of heart burn for the first time in his very long life.]

[A few pieces of pink foil-wrapped chocolates rest around a special thermos Wash uses for his "special" meals and accidentally left in the Plane kitchen. He's glad it's still there. But those chocolates... It's not the first time he's seen them around the islands that the Plane has become, but he's seen them enough times that he...actually wants to try one. Someone may be trying to leave them for him, and maybe if he tries one, that'll satisfy them. Of course, it could be a trap. Or they...could just be chocolates and nothing more. He takes one out along with his thermos and has a seat while he drinks and mulls over whether he wants to open the foil wrapper or not. (And so it warms up a bit.)]

[A few minutes and an empty thermos later, he still hasn't touched the chocolate. He frowns at it, then realizes how stupid it is to be hesitant about one little thing like this.] Oh, what the hell.

[He grabs it, the foil crinkling as he peels it away and sees a milk chocolate within, and a hint of peanut butter hits his nose before he pops it into his mouth.] Hmm, not bad.
[Considering he rarely has sweet things, there isn't too much for him to compare it to. And considering he hasn't changed in any way--thank god--he gets up to wash his thermos and debates a trip to Eithan's house.]

I wonder who's been putting the chocolates out...

[His cheeks start to flush a bit, but otherwise, he feels all right.]


[ooc: Unfortunately, the chocolates have been having an effect on him, and it'll be evident to him and anyone he meets as he'll be infatuated with them on sight. Cue the awkward! (And if anything happens that you don't like, talk to me. I have no limits for him, so slap him, kiss him, try to drown him, whatever, it's fine with me~)]

[Of course, South is pretty easy to find. She's on the floating island that houses the mansion! I know, I know, so surprising...

Anyway, she's sitting right by the water - no armor, because what good will it do when it's heavy enough to make her sink? No, she's doing her best to take the situation at face value, and breathe a little easy. Or, well... she's trying to. She's gone so far as to stick her feet in the water, not really caring about the sparkly whatever-the-fuck it leaves in its wake.

Eventually, with a huge sigh, she flops onto her back and stares up at the stars. Maybe she should go find the others, see what they think of the situation. But mostly, she'd rather just stay right here. Alone. Not to be bothered.

...Which obviously means people should come shove her in the water bother her~]

[Someone is too new to the Plane to know better than to eat the candy...

Yosuke's about two bites away from being done with a piece of chocolate he found in the kitchen. He's standing right outside of there, looking out over the water - since that's definitely not something you see every day, even here... He lets out a low whistle, just kind of taking it all in.]

Still not letting up, huh? I wonder how long we'll be floating around like this...

[He makes his way over to one of the boats - a teeny little two-person sailboat, pulled up far enough that the water won't try carrying it off without him - and sits on the end of it. Part of him wants to shove off and look around, but... maybe not just yet.

He finishes off that piece of chocolate, balls up the wrapper and puts it in his back pocket. He's suddenly feeling kinda twitchy, a little restless... but that's nothing he isn't too used to, even if it seems worse than usual. Hmm.]


((OoC: Yosuke's gonna get touchy-feely if you get too close to him! let me know if you have any limitations, i will respect them!))

[SPLASH!!!

....

Jacqli surfaces with a huge gasp for breath, eyes wide and arms a little bit flaily. She quickly spots the library as the closest landmark for her to swim (??? still baffled!) to and does so, crawling out of the water and curling up beside the door, trying to catch her breath.

She's also completely naked. You know. Just FYI. Not that this should surprise anyone who was here for her first arrival, but eh.

She's not cold, at least - the water was rather disturbingly warm, actually. Still, she draws her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, and she glares daggers over her legs from behind limp, wet black hair that's plastered itself to her face. Ohh, she is not a happy camper right now. And just wait until she notices she's sparkling...

She had intended to come to the Plane to enjoy a long bath, but this is incredibly far from what she had in mind!!]

[Menzies is standing out on the now-empty Plane today when she makes both an announcement and a radio broadcast to any either near enough or tuned in to hear]

This is DI Menzies, to everyone on the Plane. I... [she hesitates. while her appearance is mostly consistent with her normal, composed self, for a second there's uncharacteristic nervousness in her demeanor that she's obviously trying to fight. but it's gone as quickly as it came, and she's all business again] I've got reason to believe there might be a flood on the Plane. Maybe it'll be related to the recent snow--I don't know. It might not even 'appen. But it could do, and I'd rather we were prepared than not.

So, any of you out there with access to safety equipment like life jackets or, hell, even a raft--anything you could temporarily bring to the Plane and store in public areas could be crucial. This includes water bottles and sealed, nonperishable food. I'll set up supplies on the top floors of the higher buildings.

[she pauses there. and then, with a sigh, adds:] Look, I know what this sounds like, and it's possible nothing's gonna 'appen. But this could be real, and lives could depend on being ready. I'll coordinate things if you've got any more ideas. Out.

[she shuts off the radio and takes in a deep breath. she has more reason than just the snow to suspect a flood--she's seen an ocean in her dreams, showing a moon and stars both above and below. and while the dreams are vague enough that she can't be sure to expect a literal flood, she's afraid there might be. still, knowing how strange the scenes in the dream are, she only hopes she's warning the people here about the right danger]

[Menzies stays out on the Plane for a while to repeat her warning. anyone who talks to her in person might notice that she's now wearing a ring on the ring finger of her left hand. but she's worried about a lot more right now than making an announcement like that]

( needless to say, over the past couple of weeks zack has been through some Stuff. with a capital 's'. because it's that Serious.

again, capital 's'. is the point coming across?

the snow is beginning to melt, but there's still enough that it's still deep enough in parts that he and his puppy self have to hop to get around. it's just like when anyone first saw him – hop, pause, hop hop pause, sit on haunches and maybe scratches an ear …

but see, this is where the machine chooses to have even more fun with him. he's picked himself back up and is in mid-hop when POOF. there is no longer a black puppy with bright blue eyes shuffling his way through the snow. there is now a familiar-looking boy with spiky black hair face first in the snow with his butt stuck up in the air.

because that's what happens when you suddenly find yourself turned back into your original form in the middle of a hop in the snow.

zack sputters, face and hair full of snow, and though shaking his head dislodges most of it, he still looks like he's been dusted with powdered sugar. )

What –

WHAT THE CRAP!?

( ooc; experiment's over~ hope everybody had fun! )

[Know what else is great about cold weather? Fireplaces. Know who's going to make that happen? This guy.

Eithan is not at all a fan of the cold. Snow? Snow is fun. Cold? Cold is very much not. So since he still wants to waste time on the Plane instead of dealing with shit in his own world, he's bound and determined to find a way to stay warm. Fortunately, the house he brought to the Plane a while back has been properly fixed up, so it's a perfect shelter from the cold... especially since it has a completely functional fireplace!! Furniture, well.. that's still a little sparse - but there's at least two (obviously well-loved) couches and a good many (nicer, better kept) Victorian-esque parlor chairs near said fireplace. So that counts for something, right?

He's already inside, and is making sure the fireplace stays lit - in fact, anyone wandering anywhere near the building is bound to see smoke rising from the chimney. He's not about to let it go out anytime soon, and he's just as freakin' determined to not set foot out in the snow anytime soon, either.

So, come join him by the fire! Anyone who comes into the house will find him either poking at the fireplace to keep it nice and toasty, or sitting around and basking in the warmth. Possibly smoking - he's had it rough lately, after all. And maybe if you're really lucky, you could convince him to play his guitar - he's brought it with him, it's just going untouched for the moment.

And as if to prove his point that he doesn't want any cold anywhere near him... there may or may not be a snow-free ring around that house, because he may or may not have melted it all with fire. Just saying.


Eithan do you hate fun]

The snow's still here?! Seriously?!

[That's the very brilliant exclamation and observation from Agent Washington as he stares at the white stuff on the ground. He just wanted to go Eithan's house, get a drink--and hopefully run into the man himself. Wash has something very important to talk to him about, especially with his surgery coming up in a couple days. That's it. But now, he's gonna have to make sure to dry off his armor before he goes back, and take the proper rust prevention precautions. He grumbles and starts to run down the procedure in his head, helmet tucked under his arm as he starts trudging through it, his feet sinking practically down through what must be at least six inches of snow.]

At least it's not snowing more, but...this doesn't seem to be melting. [He sighs. This brings back some early training day memories. He did well enough, but until the grappling hook incident, a couple other fresh and young agents knew him for sliding down a hundred food snowy slope on his ass into the middle of a pack of sim troopers. Nothing gets one to learn cold weather combat techniques faster than wanting to avoid that kind of thing again. Still doesn't mean he has to be fond of snow.] Great.

[Continuing forward across the Plane, he tries to ignore the cold biting at his nose and ears, but after a moment, he grumbles and starts to put on his helmet--but before it's even over his head, something happens. He doesn't know how or why, but he suddenly finds himself having a really close look at the inside of his helmet, coupled with a plummeting feeling as the cold hits all over his body--and then he's in the snow, his face pressed against something vaguely soft.]

What the he--! [But he stops himself right there. That voice. Was that his voice?? Did something on the Plane shrink him? He can smell his shampoo and sweat from the helmet lining, so he must be inside, but how? He struggles to move, but things don't feel right. Not at all. And goddamn is he cold, no thanks to the snow. He tries to move and stretch his arms, realizing they've been tucked up against his body, and finds that they move weirdly.]

[Then he realizes why. He turns his head, seeing that his nose, in addition to being longer, has turned from a pink to a grayish-yellow. And he notices that he's clinging to the inner lining with a claw...] What the fuck? [Yep, that squeaky, high-pitched voice is his. His heart is positively racing in his chest and he begins to flail around under the helmet, snow immediately flying around as he tries to get out from under it.]

What the fuck did they change me into this time?! [At some point in all his flailing, he manages to kick his helmet radio on, so even if people aren't around to see a random steel and yellow helmet in the snow, they'll hear some very squeaky cursing over the radio...]


[ooc: Unfortunately for Wash, this isn't an experiment.]

( you know what you guys need in addition to your snow? since you've all been going through some pretty hard times, what with those angels and shadows running around a while back and all.

you need.

puppy therapy.

now, those of you that have found yourselves in the fortuitous circumstance of meeting one zack fair before now, you've probably come to realize a few things about him. he's helpful to a fault, cheery, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and all that. a restless ball of energy. what you wouldn't know is that a certain mentor of his happens to refer to him as a puppy, quite literally, and it's something the boy himself wouldn't know if he hadn't just paid a visit to aforementioned mentor's home village. and subsequently, his mother.

are you … zack, the puppy?

jeez, angeal …

when it all comes down to it, when this is all over, that little piece of conversation is going to be the only thing he can attribute his current state to. right now? uh. he's … well.

he's come back to the plane after the snow has already fallen in completion, and once he gets over the initial oh man, snow! it really snows here? never would've thought of that business, it takes him a second to realize that this snow is a lot closer to his face than it should be. like. it's really close. close enough to nip at.

…

wait. what's going on – !?

yep. just now catching up to the fact that he's not in the shape he's supposed to be in.

anyone that happens across him will find a moderately-sized black pup, nothing but legs and too-big paws, a lot like this, actually, save for the fact that his eyes are still bright, brilliant blue and one of his ears is flopped over while the other sticks straight up. he sits in the snow for a moment, looking all around him as though trying to figure out what in the world is going on, and that might be exactly what he's doing – except you'll never know. because for all that his original thought processes and cognitive awareness are both intact, his ability to express himself has been reduced to what you can make of yips and yaps and the biting of ankles.

maybe especially that last part, if he finds himself particularly agitated.

i knew this place was weird, but … but come on! i can't do anything like this!

after a while, he gets up, shakes some of the snow off. and if you catch him bunny-hopping through the deeper parts of snow as he tries to get his bearings, well … you'd better not comment on it. unless you want in on some of that ankle-biting action. )

( ooc; this is an official canon-bump with the added bonus of an experiment tacked on, because i'm the best sort of person. :D zack's experiment will last around two weeks, so have fun with the pup! )

( see york.

see york in his natural habitat, eyes glinting with mischief, a smirk curving the line of his mouth to one side. the backdrop could be anything at all, but this time around he's surrounded by pure and nearly-blinding white; the recent snowfall has given this particular freelancer one hell of an idea, and given the recent gift he'd acquired, things are about to get a little interesting.

but when are they not on the plane?

he's set himself up in a fairly innocent, nondescript location, rolled about two dozen or so snowballs and has been waiting patiently for anyone to come waltzing by. unsuspecting. and when they do?

they're going to have a snowball launched right at their head. or any other part of their anatomy within reach, and you had better believe that he isn't at all above smacking someone in the ass with a fistful of hard-packed snow. but you want to know the thing about those snowballs when they go flying through the air?

both of his hands are still resting at his sides. well, mostly. he might be trying to get away with a charles xavier-esque hand-to-side-of-face-c'mon-you-gotta-go-where-i-want!!! motion, but the fact of the matter is that those snowballs are making their way toward their unsuspecting victims by the power of his mind alone.

funny how you can turn something like a second plane death into fun for the whole family, isn't it?

look out, everyone. this idiot has telekinesis. )