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[DoctorMcTaalik]

"Name's Pas'qet, foreignling from foreignly lands. Didn't hear about no troubles nor no fires. Pas'qet is out in the night because liking out and the night. Remindescent one of home."

Say above. Hope this guy lets me go.

[Yoink]

Thrips grimaced, glancing uncertainly up and down the street.
He had expected this part of the task, at least, to be simple. It was patently not so. He was on the verge of panic. And tears, for that matter.
He cleared his throat, ran a hand over his face and through his hair, then attempted to look more dignified as he decided on a plan of action.

See if I can find away around the back of the inn. Look for any windows, or a back entrance or any signs of occupation.
Be ready to run back to the street if anything threatening occurs, though. Keep my eyes and ears peeled (not literally!) for any signs of trouble or anyone approaching.    

[Ozarck]

Roll over.  Continue snoozing until I get hungry or something disturbs me.

(5) you roll onto your back and fall into that perfect balance of comfortable sleep and awareness of living things around you. It seems that all life in the building larger than a rat is located in this room, or on the roof. Nearby, but outside, you recognize the weird bird demon's essence, and a group of strangers. They aren't approaching you or a threat to you in any way, as far as your sleeping mind and lizard brain can tell.

Wait for orders. Mumble to myself.
"Peasants are even worse than expected, have to everything myself. Atleast it will be done excellent"

(5) one of the kids wakes. After a brief exchange with the captain, he agrees to take one of you to another gang to parlay. Looks like you volunteer.

"Name's Pas'qet, foreignling from foreignly lands. Didn't hear about no troubles nor no fires. Pas'qet is out in the night because liking out and the night. Remindescent one of home."

Say above. Hope this guy lets me go.

(3) you are further questioned about your homeland, where you are going, and if you have any associates.

Thrips grimaced, glancing uncertainly up and down the street.
He had expected this part of the task, at least, to be simple. It was patently not so. He was on the verge of panic. And tears, for that matter.
He cleared his throat, ran a hand over his face and through his hair, then attempted to look more dignified as he decided on a plan of action.

See if I can find away around the back of the inn. Look for any windows, or a back entrance or any signs of occupation.
Be ready to run back to the street if anything threatening occurs, though. Keep my eyes and ears peeled (not literally!) for any signs of trouble or anyone approaching.    

You walk around to the back door and find, as seems to always be the case, that hte serving staff door is unlocked. a servant boy sleeps in the dust, inside, near the door. It is the quiet hour, after most drunks have fallen asleep or passed out, and just before even the kitchen staff awake and begin their routines.

[Xantalos]

((Whoops, thought I posted but didn't :v))

Run off giggling in the general direction of the officer guy dude.

[Devastator]

Think about food and start drooling.

[Loki987]

Ask all relevant questions such as: Where do I need to go? What message should I give them?  Who should I meet and from which gang? etc.

[DoctorMcTaalik]

"My homland is real nice. Fields of burni- ah, hum. Fields, pretty fields. Nice littlun caves. Pas'qet have a caves, you know. Done very good for myself, I've thinking.

I'ms is for a walk. Nowhere in particluar, just wherever the impulsions take me.

Associalites? Hmm. No, not so much. Friends, yes- but nobody here. Never been so well at makening friends, afraid."

Note that none of this is a lie. Well, the bit about having friends isn't so true, but I don't know that.

[Yoink]

Thrips stood there in the doorway for a long moment, motionless apart from his eyes, which darted about as he listened and thought on his next move.
Darted about independently of one another, that is-- hardly surprising, since this was a stressful situation involving some high-level thinking.


Consider whether I can remember what the leader of that other group of thugs whom we scuffled with looked like, and whether I can remember well enough to adequately describe him or his group. If yes, roughly nudge the serving boy awake with my new boot and, without allowing him to stand, intimidate him into doing my bidding.

"Oi, you. Awake with ye! Quit yer snoozin', yer going to be doin' some things for me so listen up an' listen good 'fore I gots to knock the wax out'f yer ears."
Thrips made his voice into his best low snarl, mostly-unconsciously aping the bossy tones of his old employer as he did so.
He stood over the other boy with the most imperious posture he could muster, his oversized-but-expensive coat and boots at the very least lending his appearance plenty of obfuscating strangeness, if not the actual menace he was hoping for.

Said bidding involves, firstly, giving me directions to some sort of cafe, tavern or inn nearby where I can get a decent breakfast at this hour. Secondly, if he sees that fellow, or any of his cronies, he is to come find me at said establishment and let me know, preferably without being obvious. Casually drop a couple of small-denomination coins from my coat pocket on him once he's taken in these instructions, promising more once he has done what I've asked.



If I cannot remember the appearance of the other group's leader, or an overall description of them, take a rather different approach and gently nudge the lad awake before asking him, politely, if he knows of any good places to get some breakfast around here. The first option is, obviously, the preferred one; hopefully I can remember the guy well enough to describe.    

[Devastator]

((Are we waiting for anyone?))

[Ozarck]

I slept for 14 hours today. We're just waiting on me. Depression and grief are a bitch, yo

Also, I need to write up the other thread first, as the events there may have a drastic effect on the events here.

[Ozarck]

Okay, that happened.

((Whoops, thought I posted but didn't :v))

Run off giggling in the general direction of the officer guy dude.

speed 2, eh? Well, you run off through the fire and smoke, and down the alleys. You hear no pursuit. Eventually, you arrive at the warehouse in the ashes. Pas,qet is having communications with the po-po. everyone else is out of sight.

Think about food and start drooling.

(2) You think about dust. Your tail twitches.

Ask all relevant questions such as: Where do I need to go? What message should I give them?  Who should I meet and from which gang? etc.

You are given directions to a slum nearby -an apartment tenement that's seen better days. Third floor. Ask for "Willie the One-Eyed." The kid guffaws at that. The message is "lookin' for a meet, to discuss our mutual problems. the gangs'r hurtin'. Something will be done 'bout it, right? tell 'em Sal sent ya." the kid will be coming along as a guide and runner.

"My homland is real nice. Fields of burni- ah, hum. Fields, pretty fields. Nice littlun caves. Pas'qet have a caves, you know. Done very good for myself, I've thinking.

I'ms is for a walk. Nowhere in particluar, just wherever the impulsions take me.

Associalites? Hmm. No, not so much. Friends, yes- but nobody here. Never been so well at makening friends, afraid."

Note that none of this is a lie. Well, the bit about having friends isn't so true, but I don't know that.

(1) "Well, buddy. Seems the 'impulsions' are telling you to walk with us. To the precinct. Come along." The officers make to surround you.

Thrips stood there in the doorway for a long moment, motionless apart from his eyes, which darted about as he listened and thought on his next move.
Darted about independently of one another, that is-- hardly surprising, since this was a stressful situation involving some high-level thinking.


Consider whether I can remember what the leader of that other group of thugs whom we scuffled with looked like, and whether I can remember well enough to adequately describe him or his group. If yes, roughly nudge the serving boy awake with my new boot and, without allowing him to stand, intimidate him into doing my bidding.

"Oi, you. Awake with ye! Quit yer snoozin', yer going to be doin' some things for me so listen up an' listen good 'fore I gots to knock the wax out'f yer ears."
Thrips made his voice into his best low snarl, mostly-unconsciously aping the bossy tones of his old employer as he did so.
He stood over the other boy with the most imperious posture he could muster, his oversized-but-expensive coat and boots at the very least lending his appearance plenty of obfuscating strangeness, if not the actual menace he was hoping for.

Said bidding involves, firstly, giving me directions to some sort of cafe, tavern or inn nearby where I can get a decent breakfast at this hour. Secondly, if he sees that fellow, or any of his cronies, he is to come find me at said establishment and let me know, preferably without being obvious. Casually drop a couple of small-denomination coins from my coat pocket on him once he's taken in these instructions, promising more once he has done what I've asked.



If I cannot remember the appearance of the other group's leader, or an overall description of them, take a rather different approach and gently nudge the lad awake before asking him, politely, if he knows of any good places to get some breakfast around here. The first option is, obviously, the preferred one; hopefully I can remember the guy well enough to describe.    

This is too good. The kid is about to roll over and go back to sleep wit ha slurred "fuck off, tosser," when the first coin bounces by his head. You get his attention just fine then, and he becomes nice as can be. He directs you two blocks away to a little cafe and bakery, and promises to bring word to you there.

[Devastator]

Sneeze.  Wake up.

[Yoink]

Nodding his head gravely towards the boy before turning to head back outside, Thrips was inwardly feeling rather smug, a little bit shocked and, most importantly, very grown-up. "A coin here or there," he murmured to himself, feeling quite profound as he stepped into the street, "Is sometimes just the extra bit'f oil what the cake needs ta keep from burnin'."   

Leave the inn and stride confidently up the street in search of this cafe-bakery I've been directed to.
Take in the sights and sounds of the city as I go, as always keeping an eye out for signs of trouble. Are the streets still rather quiet?

Once I'm there (assuming I find the place where it's supposed to be and am not interrupted/distracted along the way), study it for a moment, then, if it doesn't seem immediately dangerous in some way, head on inside. Nod a dignified, mature greeting to any serving staff before enquiring as to what manner of breakfast might be on offer.    

[DoctorMcTaalik]

The officers

((Well, that changes things.))

"Nossir, no, I don't think they- oh. Hmm. I saw. Thanking your arrest this innocenous foregler, teach us some lessons." Pas'qet glares at the officers. "Well, letusgoing then, if your insisinstinct."

Resisting arrest is what landed me in Omega in the first place. I think I'll comply, this time around.

[Xantalos]

Skip on merrily into the warehouse, brandishing my collection of weapons and humming a tune or something. Claim racial discrimination if this catches police attention.