Common Grounds Touchstone

Where Machine meets Man, and Man meets Death. An ask/rp blog for all my LANCER chars.

[commgroundstone]

.../INDEX/MAIN/otfl

Note: To view any tag on tumblr in chronological order, append "/chrono" to the end.

Main Characters:

ZT Foxdance (he/they)

The First Contact Accords prohibit continuous subjectivity exporting. It does not prohibit the restarting of it from memories. For good reason, of course. Who would be so clinging to life that they would willingly choose to die?

Marshall Hall (she/her)

There are always blindspots in the leviathan's eyes, always strings in the social safety net that happen to be rotted or frayed at the worst moment. Once would be sad happening, twice horrible misfortune. Three hundred and twenty five incidents is targeted enemy action.

Kane (he/him)

See him fly, see him bleed. See him charge into danger and come out the other side mauled, but grinning. Please, clap and cheer. He does this for you.

Kalen Mulry (she/her)

Just a maid. She stands taller than usual, and her tiger-ish modifications always draw eyes. Don't stare too long; she has an uncanny sixth sense.

Side Characters:

Unnamed Plastic Knife Woman (she/they/probably more but nobody dares ask too much.)

A silly side character who commits nonlethal assault with a plastic knife and is shockingly adept in all forms of hand to hand combat. Don't think too hard about her. Don't consider the depthless ring in her eyes. Don't wonder. Don't remember. There are secrets humankind was meant to know and be cursed by.

Officer Raufoss (she/her)

Upper Laurent law enforcement officer. Middle aged woman, just a touch out of shape. Also UPKW's ex and regular wrangler. Generally tries her best.

Metronome (he/him)

Gay disaster Deimosian, civilian logistical specialist. Congressional fugitive, officially labeled as a missing person.

Organizations:

Panacea Strategic Operations Limited "For all that ails you."

PSO is a multi-service armed contracting company. They can handle anything from state assistance campaigns to humanitarian missions. Strength isn't as large as other war contractors, but they have professional forces and a diverse portfolio of services. It is managed through an internal representative democracy.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

The soft patter of shoes comes, alongside the hiss of well lubricated wheels on a handcart. It comes to a halt, followed by a soft knock on the door.

[A discerning pair of eyes takes stock of the visitor from the rafters, unseen. This door is never unwatched anymore.]

- Come in, come in~

[commgroundstone]

Outside is the slightly stooped form of Kalen Mulry, pushing a little trolley bearing a covered platter. She seems poorly rested, and there's a small tremor to her limbs that seems to refuse to suppress.

After a moment, she pushes it open and enters the room. Somehow, in person the maid seems to shrink in on herself further.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

[Rosie's face brightens. She greets the maid with a warm smile.]

- Mulry, dear! Oh, wonderful timing, we were feeling peckish.

[She glances up and down at Mulry, and worry at her state creeps into her eyes.]

- Hmm. Hast though taken thine break yet..? Tch. Actually, it matters not. Thou shalt have a second. Please, please, uncover the tray and then have a seat.

[commgroundstone]

At the comfortable greeting, the wire loosens from singing tautness to slight slack. Straightening a hair, Mulry acknowledges with a nod, moving to a ready position a moment before the second phrase.

The flicker-moment of 'uh-oh'. Unguarded? Probably not in this line of work. But it does seem like her control has worn thin. Mulry has orders, though, and she opens the platter. There is a perfectly made cake there, courtesy of the kitchens. Around it are a few other (somewhat more unfamiliar) snacks, derived from memory of what Lady Hurst favors.

"the head cook felt inventive today, Lady Hurst. i will write down what you like if you wish me to."

With all the gingerness of her seat being aflame, the maid sits down.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

- Sweet Mulry, we have been through this before, but do try and relax. We are not our mother, nor art we going to bite.

- When we are in private, thou art not our servant, thou art our confidant.

[As she says this, Rosie takes it upon herself to cut two small slices of cake. One for each of them.]

- Thou deservest this as much as we do, our dear. Now. Hast thou ought to report? Are the maids well? The other servants? Is ought amiss and dost thou needest anything?

- And hath any of the servants overheard ought from the Praeseist devils?

[commgroundstone]

"..." The maid blinks. Once, twice. Three times. Cautiously, she puts forward, "but you did. um. once when you were little. s-so i've heard!"

Where she might've heard this story from is likely a question of the Hurst staffing situation, and if anyone has been in service long enough to remember. Mulry clears her throat once and fishes in a pocket to produce a notepad.

Of it she flips a few pages. The sharp eye will spot a few sketches, some lists, what looks like a crossword half deciphered, and a schematic of... something.

"the staff are doing well. i haven't heard anything specific. um. the mold in the basements is back, apparently. they've been experimenting with solvents to get rid of it safely."

On the Praeseists, she swallows. "th-there's um. been. iiiiiiiiieeeencounters?"

Flip, flip. "i-it's. probably coincidence. um. there's been a few rumors of intimidation. n-nothing systemic! but. a few people in the outer facing services um, said that they were approached. and stuff."

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

[At the comment on her childhood an eyebrow raises, and her bat-like ears twitch to match them. She listens intently as Mulry describes the mold situation, but doesn't react. Then the "encounters" are mentioned. Her ears twitch again, eyes recognizing a potential for work to be done.]

- Have we names? Faces? Of the victims or the abusers? We should like to monitor this to contain it before is spirals.

[As she takes a bite of her cake, elsewhere on the palace grounds, three small drones take flight and ready themselves to do their mistress' bidding.]

[commgroundstone]

"um." Ah, joy. A conversation that might lead to Consequences. The hands stop, tremoring in place. A few notches higher on the pulse, as Mulry considers her words carefully.

Straightening to her mildly impressive full height, the maid steadies herself, and Articulates. "i. don't have names for the most part. nobody. has really clear faces? and. they did wear masking, so bullet cameras didn't have a great time."

After a moment, she adds "it. might not be that organized. it didn't happen to more than a few. i. have names, if you want to talk to people who reported it and declined anonymity?"

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

The soft patter of shoes comes, alongside the hiss of well lubricated wheels on a handcart. It comes to a halt, followed by a soft knock on the door.

[A discerning pair of eyes takes stock of the visitor from the rafters, unseen. This door is never unwatched anymore.]

- Come in, come in~

[commgroundstone]

Outside is the slightly stooped form of Kalen Mulry, pushing a little trolley bearing a covered platter. She seems poorly rested, and there's a small tremor to her limbs that seems to refuse to suppress.

After a moment, she pushes it open and enters the room. Somehow, in person the maid seems to shrink in on herself further.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

[Rosie's face brightens. She greets the maid with a warm smile.]

- Mulry, dear! Oh, wonderful timing, we were feeling peckish.

[She glances up and down at Mulry, and worry at her state creeps into her eyes.]

- Hmm. Hast though taken thine break yet..? Tch. Actually, it matters not. Thou shalt have a second. Please, please, uncover the tray and then have a seat.

[commgroundstone]

At the comfortable greeting, the wire loosens from singing tautness to slight slack. Straightening a hair, Mulry acknowledges with a nod, moving to a ready position a moment before the second phrase.

The flicker-moment of 'uh-oh'. Unguarded? Probably not in this line of work. But it does seem like her control has worn thin. Mulry has orders, though, and she opens the platter. There is a perfectly made cake there, courtesy of the kitchens. Around it are a few other (somewhat more unfamiliar) snacks, derived from memory of what Lady Hurst favors.

"the head cook felt inventive today, Lady Hurst. i will write down what you like if you wish me to."

With all the gingerness of her seat being aflame, the maid sits down.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

- Sweet Mulry, we have been through this before, but do try and relax. We are not our mother, nor art we going to bite.

- When we are in private, thou art not our servant, thou art our confidant.

[As she says this, Rosie takes it upon herself to cut two small slices of cake. One for each of them.]

- Thou deservest this as much as we do, our dear. Now. Hast thou ought to report? Are the maids well? The other servants? Is ought amiss and dost thou needest anything?

- And hath any of the servants overheard ought from the Praeseist devils?

[commgroundstone]

"..." The maid blinks. Once, twice. Three times. Cautiously, she puts forward, "but you did. um. once when you were little. s-so i've heard!"

Where she might've heard this story from is likely a question of the Hurst staffing situation, and if anyone has been in service long enough to remember. Mulry clears her throat once and fishes in a pocket to produce a notepad.

Of it she flips a few pages. The sharp eye will spot a few sketches, some lists, what looks like a crossword half deciphered, and a schematic of... something.

"the staff are doing well. i haven't heard anything specific. um. the mold in the basements is back, apparently. they've been experimenting with solvents to get rid of it safely."

On the Praeseists, she swallows. "th-there's um. been. iiiiiiiiieeeencounters?"

Flip, flip. "i-it's. probably coincidence. um. there's been a few rumors of intimidation. n-nothing systemic! but. a few people in the outer facing services um, said that they were approached. and stuff."

[commgroundstone]

Interlude — Blinkgate Music Player

Marshall Hall, aerial performer. Technical specifications:

Height, approx: 225cm

Powerplant: 80 Megawatt

Consists of 1x (one) GMS Type-9-A High Performance Compact Coldcore

Empty/Show Weight: 142kg/168kg

Operational time is theoretically about five hours of significant flight; engine complex draws from coldcore partially but still does require reaction mass in spades. Hypersonic flight will deplete stores much faster.

Thrust Output: 270kN theoretical, 130kN safe sustained flight at 1G/Earthlike atmosphere

Consists of 2x (two) Marigan Interstellar linear aerospike engines, 1x (one) GMS Super-GR Civil/Commercial XS Coldcore Variable Rocket

Maximum Take Off Weight: Approx. 231kg under 1G Earthlike atmosphere.

Cruise/Maximum Speed: Mach 1/Mach 4

Avionics: Radar, Infrared, Optical

Multifunctional passive electronically scanned array, high resolution multiple wavelength infrared, image recognition and automatic gimbal.

[gankration-macani]

who the fuck is driving an rc car in the goddamn estate

if this is vel i'm just straight killin his ass

[commgroundstone]

It's even louder now. Could be like, in the room or hallway right outside.

[gankration-macani]

(A picture taken in the estate. There is a remote controlled car at the end of a hallway.)

Is That A Fucking Bomb

[commgroundstone]

It hangs a perfect 90 degree turn and swings TOWARDS YOU UH OH BIG TROUBLE-

The car is just a generic store brand. However, there appears to be a bottle of something and a blinking red light equipped device attached.

[gankration-macani]

Mac looks down at the car.

He debates with himself for just a moment.

He abruptly unholsters a handgun and begins firing at the car.

[commgroundstone]

Before him, maybe twenty meters. The car begins evasive action. Depending on how good the MacVision is, he may be able to spot that the bottle is of some kind of household cleaner.

Fifteen. It slaloms between bullets plowing into the presumably mildly expensive floor.

Ten. Spall from a bullet clips the car, sending it into a short spin, but the vehicle pulls off a beautiful little maneuver and gets back on track.

Five meters. A bullet lands dead center into it. The thing stops cold-

A soft tone, the car goes breeeee~

Foam. So much fucking foam. The bottle explodes and turns into basically a tsunami. There's like, enough foam to fill an olympic swimming pool. SO MUCH RA-FORSAKEN FOAM.

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

RAUFOSS???????

[commgroundstone]

...yes?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

just strange seeing you here

(An attached image of the aforementioned garment.)

neato little thingamabob

hold on i hear something

[commgroundstone]

There's not much happening right now other than the bar crawl which I think shouldn't get past an illegal fistfight or two. And, given. Past, incidents.

Unrelated, I think that's a passport. Maybe? Where and what is this 'Duat' anyway?

[gankration-macani]

chat she doesn't even know about the duat

[commgroundstone]

Sir, I'm just an officer of the peace. if this is something more esoteric than a national identification object, then I'm out of my depth.

What is the Duat, then?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

turbohell i think

[commgroundstone]

What the fuck?

[gankration-macani]

hold on i'll get back to you later i may be in grave danger

[commgroundstone]

Sir, what's going on over there? Should I come by?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

who the fuck is driving an rc car in the goddamn estate

if this is vel i'm just straight killin his ass

[commgroundstone]

It's even louder now. Could be like, in the room or hallway right outside.

[gankration-macani]

(A picture taken in the estate. There is a remote controlled car at the end of a hallway.)

Is That A Fucking Bomb

[commgroundstone]

It hangs a perfect 90 degree turn and swings TOWARDS YOU UH OH BIG TROUBLE-

The car is just a generic store brand. However, there appears to be a bottle of something and a blinking red light equipped device attached.

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

RAUFOSS???????

[commgroundstone]

...yes?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

just strange seeing you here

(An attached image of the aforementioned garment.)

neato little thingamabob

hold on i hear something

[commgroundstone]

There's not much happening right now other than the bar crawl which I think shouldn't get past an illegal fistfight or two. And, given. Past, incidents.

Unrelated, I think that's a passport. Maybe? Where and what is this 'Duat' anyway?

[gankration-macani]

chat she doesn't even know about the duat

[commgroundstone]

Sir, I'm just an officer of the peace. if this is something more esoteric than a national identification object, then I'm out of my depth.

What is the Duat, then?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

turbohell i think

[commgroundstone]

What the fuck?

[gankration-macani]

who the fuck is driving an rc car in the goddamn estate

if this is vel i'm just straight killin his ass

[commgroundstone]

It's even louder now. Could be like, in the room or hallway right outside.

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

RAUFOSS???????

[commgroundstone]

...yes?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

just strange seeing you here

(An attached image of the aforementioned garment.)

neato little thingamabob

hold on i hear something

[commgroundstone]

There's not much happening right now other than the bar crawl which I think shouldn't get past an illegal fistfight or two. And, given. Past, incidents.

Unrelated, I think that's a passport. Maybe? Where and what is this 'Duat' anyway?

[gankration-macani]

chat she doesn't even know about the duat

[commgroundstone]

Sir, I'm just an officer of the peace. if this is something more esoteric than a national identification object, then I'm out of my depth.

What is the Duat, then?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

RAUFOSS???????

[commgroundstone]

...yes?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

just strange seeing you here

(An attached image of the aforementioned garment.)

neato little thingamabob

hold on i hear something

[commgroundstone]

There's not much happening right now other than the bar crawl which I think shouldn't get past an illegal fistfight or two. And, given. Past, incidents.

Unrelated, I think that's a passport. Maybe? Where and what is this 'Duat' anyway?

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

RAUFOSS???????

[commgroundstone]

...yes?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[gankration-macani]

[The package is unlabeled. It's framed by metal spars, bent and welded, packaged with pentawrapped saran wrap. You can see inside; it's a strange bracelet with a pendant linked by intricate metal chain. There is also a note.]

If you'll visit the sands so often, I thought you should at least have a smoother journey. Here, for the next time someone brings you to the Duat.

Of the bracelet, there isn't much to talk about. It's a bronze band with flexible segments and a clasp. Feels tougher than it looks.

the wizards are sending me seals and wards against curses

[commgroundstone]

What. Hang on, can you post a picture? What have you been sent this time?

>//:AUTH#CARILLION/SENDER#RAUFOSS

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

The soft patter of shoes comes, alongside the hiss of well lubricated wheels on a handcart. It comes to a halt, followed by a soft knock on the door.

[A discerning pair of eyes takes stock of the visitor from the rafters, unseen. This door is never unwatched anymore.]

- Come in, come in~

[commgroundstone]

Outside is the slightly stooped form of Kalen Mulry, pushing a little trolley bearing a covered platter. She seems poorly rested, and there's a small tremor to her limbs that seems to refuse to suppress.

After a moment, she pushes it open and enters the room. Somehow, in person the maid seems to shrink in on herself further.

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

[Rosie's face brightens. She greets the maid with a warm smile.]

- Mulry, dear! Oh, wonderful timing, we were feeling peckish.

[She glances up and down at Mulry, and worry at her state creeps into her eyes.]

- Hmm. Hast though taken thine break yet..? Tch. Actually, it matters not. Thou shalt have a second. Please, please, uncover the tray and then have a seat.

[commgroundstone]

At the comfortable greeting, the wire loosens from singing tautness to slight slack. Straightening a hair, Mulry acknowledges with a nod, moving to a ready position a moment before the second phrase.

The flicker-moment of 'uh-oh'. Unguarded? Probably not in this line of work. But it does seem like her control has worn thin. Mulry has orders, though, and she opens the platter. There is a perfectly made cake there, courtesy of the kitchens. Around it are a few other (somewhat more unfamiliar) snacks, derived from memory of what Lady Hurst favors.

"the head cook felt inventive today, Lady Hurst. i will write down what you like if you wish me to."

With all the gingerness of her seat being aflame, the maid sits down.

[commgroundstone]

Hardware Donor

====== The shelves are actually glass cabinets. They hold a collection of strange bits and pieces, all recognizable as computer cases for C/Cs.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Formidable: Success] — Most of these are incomplete, as they're meant to be mounted on legs or tracks, not as personal devices.

ABSTRACTION [????: Success] — That one. The one on the right, upper right. The cylindrical one. That looks to be our form-factor, and...

NERVEMESH [????: Success] — ...something feels right about that one.

"...what about that piece there?"

"Hmm? Oh. Certainly, though I haven't managed to discern what it is. I will warn you that I haven't managed to check it for safety yet." He seems surprised, but opens the case smoothly.

"Given the risk, it seems rather rude to ask a charge from you, especially given that I came into possession of it for free." Fisher hands the little cylinder over to her without fanfare, the cabinet closing behind him.

"Would you like to pay for the testing? I'll give a discount given your... situation."

"…Sure." She's mostly distracted, her triclopean eye cluster rotating through modes to examine the little thing more closely.

It's a ruggedized container with a shock absorbing flexible outer layer. The entire thing is just a little bigger than her thumb, and surprisingly hefty. There's not much for connectivity, except for a small capped port in the bottom, which reveals a shallow plug.

After moment, the performer hands him the little device. Fisher nods, and makes a smart turn with it in hand. "I'll be at the counter if you need me. If you hear the doorbell, I presume you have a weapon hidden someplace. I'd encourage you to prepare it."

"...Understood."

With that, Hall finds herself alone but for her thoughts.

MECHANICS — You could use some upgrades. There might be more things that you could buy here, maybe. PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] — There's a few parts over there in the case that might be some good, and there's holographs of some weapons this Fisher man sells on the shelves. ABSTRACTION [Formidable: Failure] — Any port in a storm. We'd best start looking around.

=== She places a swatch of items on the table. A whitewash patch grid kit, a soldering set, a few replacement coldcore cartridges, and a massive multispectral digi-surf camouflage tarp. The man nods, glancing over them all and naming a... price. It's definitely a price.

COMPOSITION — We really should have kept better track of how much we were gonna pay.

The aerialist mentally swallows and checks her reserves. A few hairs over enough.

ABSTRACTION — He's definitely skimming you for as much as he can. Union man my ass. EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] — No. He meant it that time. He gave you a small discount on these as well. Otherwise we might be drawn totally out.

Hall holds out the card to the scanner and confirms the transaction. The owner nods, with a soft business smile, and withdraws the little cylinder as well. "While you were shopping, I finished preliminary examination. It holds nothing immediately malicious, but I have been unable to determine what it is. Which, I'm afraid, might take a considerable amount of time."

"That's fine. I..." She takes it from the table, turning it over once-

Abruptly, Fisher pales. "I suggest you hide in the bathroom. We may be in a great deal of trouble."

"What?"

He motions for her to be quieter as he pushes everything into her arms and crosses around the desk. "The mercenaries have returned. I'm afraid they're at the front and back door. If you remain out of sight I'm quite confident-"

A sharp knock on the door, followed by the doorbell. From outside, a muffled voice asks, "IS THERE ANYONE IN THERE?"

NERVEMESH [????: Success] — Do what he says. And listen to me when we get there.

"The bathroom is there. Go!" Fisher points, and the performer breaks into a steady jog.

=== ENCYCLOPEDIA — Union standardized porting for C/C units. You'd be able to just snap it into your spinal connectors. NERVEMESH [????: Success] — Whatever's in there won't hurt you.

"...I don't really have another choice, do I?"

The talking in the shop reaches shouting. There is a cry of pain, and then booted feet coming closer.

TOLERANCE [Challenging: Success] — Open the maintenance cover for your second spinal segment. Be careful now. The cover is away, so-

From the door, a rattling of the old fashioned knob.

NERVEMESH [????: Success] — DO IT! NOW!

The device plunges in, there is a soft snap and click, her OS informs her of a successful connection, before-

All stops.

A small room of grey. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, are not solid. But it defies examination. There are two chairs, and both occupied.

One is Hall. The other...

NERVEMESH — She's bad news. PERCEPTION — Not a C/C unit. That's a Deimosian.

A woman of featureless shape. She exudes threat. "...So. You're fucked, and you want a fuckbuddy."

=== END P3/? ===

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

The soft patter of shoes comes, alongside the hiss of well lubricated wheels on a handcart. It comes to a halt, followed by a soft knock on the door.

[A discerning pair of eyes takes stock of the visitor from the rafters, unseen. This door is never unwatched anymore.]

- Come in, come in~

[commgroundstone]

Outside is the slightly stooped form of Kalen Mulry, pushing a little trolley bearing a covered platter. She seems poorly rested, and there's a small tremor to her limbs that seems to refuse to suppress.

After a moment, she pushes it open and enters the room. Somehow, in person the maid seems to shrink in on herself further.

[commgroundstone]

There can only be one.

I'm bringing my fork.

We duel at dawn.

Somehow, a message arrives in return. It is an image of the funny knife woman in a weird setting, a forge. The lights are high, but the sparks are bright enough to wash out the camera a little. Her arm is high, blurring down with hammer in hand. She's working on something.

Also differing from her usual, UPKW wears a blacksmith's jacket and face protection, but apparently she's working on a kriegsmesser size plastic knife. With a hammer. Like it's made of metal.

...The worst part is it seems to be working, because the plastic longknife is in fact coming out to spec.

There is no text attached.