"I was the doll, actually. You got me pretty good back there. Really hurt." she says while absent-mindedly touching the point where the sword had hit her.
"Well, 'possessing' it would be a more accurate description, I guess." she adds with a gesture to indicate that it's a trivial difference.
Still, from what you saw in her mind, she did indeed feel pain. Ripping that sword from her body couldn't have been easy.
"To answer your second question, yes this was a test. For both of us. And a game I suppose."
She takes a few long strides towards you, moving towards your right.
"My Queen wanted me to test your skill. And I suppose she also wanted to give me a message, restricting me and toying with me like that."
She makes an exasperated sigh but a moment later she looks away and puts her finger on her chin.
”Or was the message directed to you?" she muses.
Her mannerisms appear a bit too theatrical, like she's giving a show and wants even the people sitting in the back to see how's she's feeling.
She raises her arms and shakes her head.
"Well, it doesn't matter now. What matters is that I was given the task of finding you. And after finding you, I was given the task of defeating you in this Arena. And losing, well..."
She looks down for a second.
"Losing was not an option."
She looks at you again, cheery once more.
"Good thing I managed to defeat you without killing you, right? Otherwise one of us would be dead by now."
She turns around and sits down besides you, leaning back and using her arms to support herself. She looks at the fire raging on the top floors as if she's stargazing. The building probably won't last long.
"Then again, I do not think my Queen would had let me die unless I made a considerable blunder. Every time you came close to defeating me she unlocked more of my abilities."
You can see her face and clothes clearly now, illuminated by the fire. She looks very much like your doll but real, made of flesh and blood.
"Like I said, a test. And a game."
"Sacrebleu!" Napoleon muttered as anger crept across his face for a bit. He then turned toward the burning museum, idling thinking of the old man Lady Amarante... did something to. Perhaps death would've been preferable to seeing his precious museum burn to the ground the way he reacted to Napoleon taking the sword from the queenly mannequin. However Napoleon wasn't in the mood to obsess over his fate. Thinking over what Amarante just said, Napoleon begin to feel even better than before. This stranger, who's wearing one of his dolls as a suit, have just admitted that the Queen had to essentially cheat more than once for her to even stand a chance against him. Otherwise, he would've killed her many times over! Naturally, the prospect of being more powerful than even he thought possible swelled his pride tenfold, as least that's what he thought. The possible truth is that had Amarante have all her abilities fully unlocked at the beginning of the fight, she would've reduced him to a broken and whimpering wreck before he should say 'checkmate'. Nevertheless, despite his arrogance larger-than-life self-confidence Napoleon was nothing if not prudent, for if this Queen could easily stack the odds against him in such a way, killing him off for real would take as much effort for her as it would take to swat a mosquito off her arm.
"Test or no test, I really didn't appreciate being thrust into an ordeal that's brimming with irony!" he continued, still feeling upset but otherwise a bit better.
"Ha! Yes, the irony was painful." she says with a bitter smile.
"But I understand why she did it. It was a very nice touch."
He then sighed. "Nevertheless, since I'm not currently someone's involuntary puppet and you've just piqued my interest in this 'Queen' you speak of, I'll let this one slide. Now that the test is done, perhaps you can take me to the Queen. I'm sure that she didn't send me through this fiasco just to entertain herself."
"That is up to her." she says, laying back.
"'Royalty doesn't walk on the dirt like the common rabble. Royalty doesn't do servants' work. Royalty works with Grace, Diligence and Detachment.'"
She turns to look at you.
"Wouldn't you agree?"
You notice she's avoided answering your question. Perhaps you should be more direct.
Stephano Falcone
"...If you need any assistance, let me know Iris. I have ways of helping with serious injuries."
Look in the kitchen for a snack. Then check up on Iris in the bedroom. If she is in critical condition, then remove my sunglasses and attempt to heal her. If my powers do not work, then examine her injury more closely. Determine what medical supplies I need for her injury, and search the building for those medical supplies. If I can't find any or she's too close to death for me to leave her, then try to help in whatever way I can.
(I might edit this post later and add some internal thoughts for Stephano. Just not feeling up to it at the moment)
She considers this for half a second but keeps walking.
"I'm fine, thanks." she says as she enters the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
You decide to leave her be for now and go search the kitchen for a snack. You check the cupboards. Canned meat, canned tuna, lentils, pasta, rice... Hm. Not the sort of stuff you can eat without preparation, not sure- Oh, wait, chocolate! It's been a while since you've had some. You unwrap a piece and put it in your mouth. It's a bit stale but it's not bad. With each bite it crumbles pleasantly, filling your mouth with its sweet taste. You look outside the window as you chew. It's so quiet. No birds are singing. Not even the wind is blowing. The only sign of movement is grey clouds slowly making their way across the sky.
"Aagh!" you hear Iris emit a muffled scream.
You quickly gulp down the last of the chocolate in your mouth as you run towards the bedroom.
"Iris?" you ask as you open the door and rush into the room.
Iris is sitting on the bed with her back against the wall, her shirt raised slightly to reveal the injury in her lower torso. She looks around and tries to move away from you as you enter. You get the feeling she's afraid of you.
"Ah. Ah. I said..." she tries to say between deep, pained breaths.
You understand from the bloody pliers and the bottle of high proof alcohol lying in bed next to her that she was trying to remove the bullet from her wound. Successfully, judging from the bloody metal fragments on the nightstand next to her.
"Oh yeah, that's cool. He keeps to himself anyway. Just don't irritate him, he's likely caused at least one apocalypse before if I have his story right."
Off to tell my story again! In full if possible.
"Good. Come with me."
The guard in black leads you up the stairs. The swordsman stays behind to guard the stairs, though he smiles his unnerving grin and waves at you as you walk away.
The small balcony at the top of the stairs is populated by an array of colorful characters, no doubt people close to this 'boss' guy. They watch you as you go by but none of them say anything to you, instead continuing their drinking and smoking.
You go through a small door and into a corridor. Your target is behind one of those doors but the guard doesn't lead you to it. He grunts a greeting to the woman standing guard there and directs you to the door next to it instead. He instructs you to wait while he informs the boss about you. He leaves the room and locks the door behind him. You inspect the room while you wait. Hunting trophies, expensive carpets from the Sovereignty, comfortable furniture and rare drinks. Looks like it's good to be King of Crime. No traps or enchantments that you can see. Then again, you aren't the best at magic, so maybe there's something you missed. No sounds from the other rooms either, just the sound of the guards in the corridor. Soundproofed maybe?
A minute after the guard leaves, he returns.
"Be respectful to the boss if you know what's good for you." he warns you as he steps into the room. The Boss follows soon after.
The Boss is strange. He's definitely corporeal or at least a very good illusion, since you can hear him walking. But he has no smell, no heartbeat, not even breathing besides the movement of air which is necessary for speech. Is this his real form or just some magical construct he uses to meet people he doesn't trust?
Visually he looks like a man with ashen skin, covered in think dark cloaks that obscure the rest of his form. Even his hands and forearms are covered in grey bandage-like strips of cloth. He is tall and the many layers of fabric make him appear quite large. There is definitely some intelligence there, you can see it in his eyes, constantly scanning, inspecting you, appraising you even as he is walking.
He sits down on the chair closest to the entrance, on the opposite side of the room from you.
"Mr 'Lucky' Ike Watkins. It is so good to finally meet you."
His voice sounds smooth, normal, not monstrous or distorted as one might expect.
"Grim here" he continues, indicating the guard in black "tells me you have quite the story for me."
"I've heard so much about you. A hunter from another world. Saviour of Road's End and defender of Chizra. Wearer of the armor of the First King. Traveling with the wielder of the Sword of Kings as well as one of the two known Bond-Formers in this world. Leader of your own little band of warriors with the blessings and the aid of Chizra no less. It is so good to finally meet you in person."
Well, this guy certainly knows a lot. The guard he called Grim doesn't appear surprised from all this, though you don't know if he already knew all that or if he simply doesn't care.
"It will certainly be interesting hearing your story from your own mouth."
And so you tell him your story. He seems to already be aware of a good chunk of it, so you are able to skim through those parts, only answering questions he has about them. He is particularly interested in any information you have on Ineth the capital and what the monks of Chizra told you about the war in the South, beyond the Scar. He also asks a lot of questions about the underground chambers where you found your armour and the political and criminal situation in Chizra. You don't say too much more than what you told the monks of Chizra. You don't think it's a good idea to give blackmail material to a criminal so you don't mention things like the little magical WMD your caravan is carrying. Nevertheless he seems quite satisfied with the information you do provide.
"Thank you. This has been a very enlightening conversation. It certainly helped clarify some things. A man like you is of interest to a great many people and naturally those sorts of people tend to come to me, one way or another. Like, for example, that group of Sovereignty Commandos hanging around downstairs. They were quite interested in you from the start, it was one of their main requests for me to get involved with you. In exchange for a significant reward, of course. Perhaps more than you are actually worth. And after that little show you put on downstairs... well, they've been quite agitated. They sent out a messenger, they've been tailing your friend, they've requested that I capture you and deliver you to them twice so far."
Strange, you didn't see anyone speaking to him. Probably gained that information through magic then.
"Their extreme interest in you... Quite intriguing."
He pauses, perhaps waiting to see your reaction to this before he decides how to continue.
"There IS a name for what I am, but I don't like to use it. The technically correct term is 'Avatar', as in 'Avatar of a deity'. I'd really prefer it if people just called me Irine, you know, my name? 'Avatar' is kinda overwhelming and makes me uncomfortable."
"I see. Irine it is then.""What do you like doing Irine? I mean in your spare time. Weave? Garden?"
"Hunt? Explore?""Study? Cook?""Do you eat the same things as humans? More? Less?"
Brian Hoss, near Maximus
Move my eyes to myself, deactivate my mag-boots, jump toward more steady ground, reactivate my mag-boots if possible, and hope I don't float off.
You jump off the armor plate, trying to let the flow of the liquid carry you over and away from it. You aren't quick enough. The heavy plate slams you in the face but you manage to roll with the hit and not get hurt. You keep rolling until you are thrown off the plate, floating away from the ship until the lights from your suit can no longer illuminate it. You are left floating in the darkness- Gah!
: Got you! : In a blur of light the Phoenix flies past you, grabbing you and dragging you towards the ship. It slows down and lands next to the still-glowing mess of mangled metal left by the explosion, the rapidly cooling material moaning slightly as it does so. It gently sets you down and then proceeds to inspect the area.
<Svajoklis, inside Maximus>
Go find a working terminal and see if I can find directions to medbay or something similar, ideally in a form of map of the base.
There should be a first aid kit in a nearby corridor with more spread around the place. It contains basic medical equipment you could use to try to keep yourself from dying.
There are also stasis chambers in most living quarters and some work areas that can be used to keep someone frozen until they can receive proper medical attention. There should be one relatively close by that you can get into. Of course, that would mean that you would have to trust your teammates to carry you.
For automated medical equipment and prosthetics you have to go to the medical section of the ship which would require you to acquire a means of transportation if you are to get there in a reasonable timeframe.
((Also, Paris, have you been studying at the Piecewise school of trap design? 
))
Well, I clearly didn't study hard enough, otherwise you'd all be vaporized.
: John? Are you and the others OK? My sensors show no structural damage on your surrounding area. :
Edit: Sorry NAV, missed you. Got to go to work now, will try to respond later.
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Topic: Special People: Mechanical Syndrome (Read 1146349 times)