/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>371074
>The soul-glyph registers such glee from Naliyna that it speculated she particularly enjoys messing with the younger Amethyst Frost-Rose.
>Not of out spite, however it didn't know why the Storm-Rose herdname, or a specific individual from the same, was held in deep contempt by Amerose herself.

"You had best be aware, for all our sakes and those of Razorback. I don't have a month to explain how deep the various holes are, which ones to try filling in, cover, or leave alone."
>Staring up and left quickly, an open expression of severe irritation is made before Lark focuses downwards, the coin reading his motions and words as genuinely concerned.
>For you.
"Numerous ponies in Stalliongrad have detected two humans somehow carrying and surviving through remarkable levels of Plasma-corruption. Kraut and.. 'Filth'. Such an apt name. Neither were present at the Auction but that raises a few more concerns. Are both dead or is that another set of accounts to attempt closing?"
>The glyph pulses at the first name in respect, the second causing it to express waves of sincere disgust.
>Stock still, Stream Lark's eyebrows raising several degrees angrily, then gives a dark, furiously rolling chuckle.
"I had been hoping a human would harm her, just once, then Razorback might have realized how painfully stupid their actions are. The retaliation we've been yearning for would have been most pleasant to witness.
But no, it took some blasted Gryphoness wearing a corrupted Late Dynasty armor to wound her-"
>Eyes closing, the older stallion takes a deep, slow inhale, releasing it to the side, splaying his left forehoof out in a 'oh well' motion, the right lifting his tea cup...
>To down it.
>You make a note to keep him out of informal gatherings, and at least a mile away from tea drinkers.
>Setting the cup down, the Councilierge leans forwards, extending his right hoof to you, multitudes of past desires burning anew on his face.
"Then we either begin immediately, or relocate to a safer place for this attempt at reconciliation. While I'm glad for the Crystal Imperials being here, they're best against organic targets, unicorns, Psions, Constructs, and certain Elemarentals. Other threats.. not so much."

>>370949
>I can only hope she doesn't go insane.
>Insaner.

>She doesn't get it and I'm not helping her understand.
>:3
"Hey, that just means either one of us is wrong. Not too bad for the moment."
"Will you need me to get up there later to help with that?"
>I took a moment to study the mini map.
"Right. Like I said, we'll contact them once we can get moving at more than a limp for you."

>>370951
>Ivan would listen to his explanation, nodding along.
"Similar but less barbaric to what we've also done. Serfdom and indentured servitude. Serfs were usually tied to a plot of land and not to the owner itself, while indentured servants were 'owned' for a period of time while working off some sort of debt. Colonizing peoples tended to do this with richer people in exchange for a free ride across an ocean and a new life after a few years."
>He kept down a bemused snort.
"Unlike humans, where you could go across a border and have to exchange your money for a new type or else not be able to purchase anything."
>He would nod again, making another note to ensure the majority of his borrowing would be in gems.
>Definitely borrowing.
"If you believe your opponent to be lazy, you lower your guard. Easier to exploit."

>>352291
>>370080
>>371091
>Having nosed the Clinic doors open Snowfall looked inside to see if anypony was around.
>His ears flicked in surprise as his timing was perfect, despite the odd detour by Lin. He caught Nova and a human examining his sisters.
>He cleared his throat.
"Hello Nova Flicker and...Carlos, correct? I hope my arrival isn't interrupting a delicate moment with your patients?"
>Asked the Pred-Elk. His voice soft so not to disturb the the sleeping patients.
"If not may I come in? I want to give my sisters a quick zap to cheer them up."
>He said as he indicated with a foreleg knee towards his antlers. They were pressed against the doors to the clinic and made clicking sounds at the slightest movements of his head.

>>371092
>José curtly nodded at Lann's offer.
"I might as well take my measuremarents while I'm here."
>His eyes scanned the cluttered workshop for a bit, trying to find a spot where she could do such a thing.
"Should I go ahead and strip down for you, miss Lann?"

>>371061
"A mistake any of us could have made."
>An echo of Shiibo's words from earlier traces across the Room, Hodch's mane bristles reflexively as he glancing back past you with a scowl, returning to his rummaging among the scraps in renewed interest.
('..she better not have stepped on my bed. I made contact contact with the Flawed versions Spiral acquired numerous times, inert and inactive until the.. demonstration. Far better containmarent procedures than the majority of Dynasty relics, which was surprising.
The possibilities of contamination exist, though investigation will have to wait until one can be obtained.')
"To the first question: there's a good chance of that, yes, though Dynastic language can't be read, only extrapolated from. Or guessed at. Resonances last for a variable period depending on intensity and less than twenty Dragons aided Silver's efforts. The few that did were shunned, labelled as outcasts.. ..the 'worst offenders' were banished back to their Otherworlds, Planes, or Extra-Planar states. Getting off track, I know.
Among the various Temples, researchers, and Orders, too marely species contributed and we barely had time to take fifty, possibly sixty records. Finding a living descendant of those that created or were involved with a specific Project is unlikely. Even if they wanted to admit as much, they will never talk to us.
To the second, I can't even imagine how one could be removed, safely or otherwise. Consider possible repercussions and consequences like this: you've met the Acid batpony, Crystal pony, and Void unicorn forms. Despite the inherent problematic natures of being directly Elemarental-aligned, they were.. are, distinct individuals in all meanings of that word.
I believe each one expanded from whole subsets of Spiral to become individuals, occupying specific roles or niches with relevant knowledge of the same. I've seen nothing to disprove that. Reversing that would require total knowledge compression into a single individual. That is... unimaginable."
>Pausing to collect his thoughts, and slipping aside several flat discs of partially unstable Lightning in a gas-plasma state, Hodch snorts in fond recall.
"After recovering from what happened at Canterlot College of Magic, he disappeared to the Underground for a few months, then returned with hundreds of recently produced, utterly safe bound spells. Held an morning impromptu class at the front doors, showing how Dynasty adherents were able to safely mix contrary, directionally opposing, or directly opposing Elemarentals and Planar energetics.
Imagine Water and Lightning fused into solid, non-forced states, or Dominion and Earth. Magma and Nature. Void and Plasma. Stunned everypony senseless, myself included. When those are joined one should always expect a catastrophic detonation, but no, he was playing with them as foals would their beloved toys.
By the way, Ethereal will only join with crystalline objects and resonances, Rime, Ice, and, rarely, Water.
Those were not the only changes. He was able to perfectly read, speak, write, and understand all Dynastic languages. Not only that, he could clarify the extended hidden, double, and triple meanings too, even their shortened forms.
Enchantmarent creation, strengthening, and modification is a difficult science even to those that specialize in it, yet he was able to perform those with barely a thought. Once I watched all of the forms synchronize and fully restore a badly damaged heatstone.
Then I had no time to consider any implications. Now? Regrets keep piling higher."

>Waking from their dormant states, the furnace, force, and anvil's aspects exert their pressures, aligning yours and filling the Room's craft-space with subtle inspiration.
>Speaking abroad from a distant peak on Tallus, the Storm King's words open:
"The first hallowed act? To consider. To think. Without thought, there is no plan or possible creation."
>Before, current, and future observers of physicality, energy, concept, or alike watch on as you reach both hands out, devising rationally applied scientific fundamentals to logic-sided components and reasonable Tallus-Planar derivatives to hold the shape.
>Tracing outlines of the weapon's grip, casing, body, trigger, guard, and barrel in states that could not decay here, they form, held not in stasis but as an unfinished work.
"The second hallowed act? To shape and compose. Without understanding the measures or methods, a definition is unobtainable."
>Deciding upon the mechanisms that would exist, defining their meanings into specific functions, then the purpose each was to perform, the internals take shape under your will and guidance.
>Recreating the original design was not possible without assistance, thus compromises would be necessary: acquiring a graviton required access to the Elemarental Plane of Gravity, one of their mostly tightly held resources.
>The best option became one of simple honor: a careful, gradual beckoning of those on Tallus outside their home Plane.
>Clarifying shape into similar structures, it would resonate agreeably towards the intended particle; not to capture, instead to grant an eventual delivery.

>Removed from pure physicality, as you study the barely functioning result with untrained physical hands, your eyes at least comprehended: what you had offered to it was not enough.
>There was neither laughter nor mocking, only the gap between what is, and what will be.
"The third hallowed act is to repair and refine. The best is imperfect no matter the skill, materials, or time expended. An object cannot be final when the flaws remain uncorrected.
When the result does exceed the expectation, the work is complete."

>>371108
>Watching the sheet for ten seconds, the chunky mare swivels back, a small box on right side of her desk opening, two small, glowing green spheres float out and begin orbiting you.
"No need, these are accurate enough for anything that isn't super essential. Plus, I'm taken-"
>Flashing a lopsided smile, the pair make several passes as Lann lifts a suspiciously human military styled crate filled with thread spools, setting it down on the corner and peering in.
"Best part about magic is never needing to write stuff down. Unless it's really important!"
>Setting out all darker colors across the desk, then dropping the crate off, her head turns while the spheres return to their box.
"And done! I'll start on winter clothing for you in half an hour or so. Want extra pockets, pouches, holster or any other custom details? If so let me know, tonight might not be too bad but the weather shield isn't working anymore."
>Head turning, her right forehoof lifts, stopping the needles halfway through what was.. starting to look more like a net.
"Oh for the love o- why do they keep doing this?"
>Right hoof meeting pockmarked snout, Lann releases a harsh, rumbling sigh, waving her other as the implemarents begin unfucking the mess.
"My kits aren't perfect but that's the tenth time tonight.."
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <M.Seamstress
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <Crafting Kit
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <Sewing Kit

>>371100
"Then try it for yourself, Mom."
>A freshly refurbished repair tendril sweeps ahead of the cabin, presenting a small cube of iridescent, bright orange metal.
>Even five meters away you could taste, and smell, inexplicably harsh sensations:
>This fraction of the Sun's own existence was carefully removed from an innermost state of existence, brought onto Tallus primarily to protect, though was capable of committing honorable aggression if required.
>It did not like you, and particularly hated Wild Ride.
>Removing the offensive cube quickly, the small caricature stares at you neutrally from the screen.
"Do you still object to throwing them away, or must I continue being scourged and berated for merely existing when I did not have a say in the matter?"

>Reviewing the schematic of what used to be her head unit, mini-Wild points out ten half-sphere, half-square shapes shapes in the lower section of slagged remains.
>Four marked in green for minimal or no damage, one in light red for moderate damage, four black for severe damage or destroyed, last two in blue for unknown, antennae flicking angrily.
"Those are the ones I've been able to locate, other five are presumed lost or destroyed. Not sure which is worse. There is another complication, removing the surrounding debris without damaging these ones-"
>Circling the red and two greens.
"Wwill be difficult. I can't guarantee they're intact, and separating materials for reprocessing is slow."
>Splitting the left screen, schematic on the left side and map to the right, mini-Wild appears at the map table's opposite side, arms folded.
"Replacements and replacemarents in progress."
>If the map notations and coordinates were correct, the current location was roughly 30 miles from where the Assault Lander had been located, though Wild's route had been straight south from there, then east.
>The closest Ferron Outpost was from 45 to 48 miles east and 1/4 mile north, listed as seasonally occupied from spring to fall.

"She's resisting?"
>Harsh tones accompany a disproportionate number of grinding, strained metal-on-metal, the cartoon version disappearing while her internal speakers emit a massively static laden voice.
"You pathetic, WORTHLESS, USELESS, cowardly, BRAINDEAD SPINELESS CUNT! When I track down the entrance to your fucking micro-world there will be a reckoning not even That Which Cannot Be Named could IMAGINE!"
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Sensory Node #2: Basis Engineering Study
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Sensory Node #3: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES BITCH, WHERE ARE YOU?! STOP HIDING!"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Omni-Sensor Array
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>>371091
"No, but that requires the question of: was such a response absolutely necessary, or merely required by an individual? I am no stranger to threats-"
>Flipping back a page for study, then forwards with a pen to write several lines, Nova Flicker's expression had gone from calm to near-enraged, but subdued enough to warrant as recalling a particularly nasty situation.
"After all, a perfected Rime Shatterspike-infused blade is most capable at preventing the tongues of idiot ponies from moving again while assuring utmost dedication to saving a life. Violence is one possible solution when a patient matters far more than one hybrid's reputation.. noted down but I am quite tired, and the daytime humans are not particularly efficient.
And no, Old Horn's presence is quite far from here. I do not accept nor will I like Druids, they are irrational, obsessive, and of ill omaren at the best of times. His last visit was a month or so prior, and-"
>Glancing up at the crystalline spell above her head warping in several directions at once, she dismisses it with a flat scowl.
"I cannot sense my dam. She was east of here for some time, then nothing, as if somepony threw her into an intact Late Dynasty Warp Gate. Tipper is no longer on Tallus. I will search for her later-"

>Setting the notepad down and glancing over Brume Gale, the Ward floats a plastic case to her, opening it for a look.
"Heightened Lightning and Earth attunemarents as a result of their copper bodily parts. Partially physical and mostly magical in origin, technically immune to electricity but can be easily overloaded.
For the first, less than a pegasus and roughly equal to a unicorn expert. For the second, far less than an earth pony, and worse than a unicorn at basic capabilities."
>Setting the case down, Nova's ears flatten, motioning towards the still stable inspection spell.
"She once stated it has extremely tight, specific limitations which cannot be bypassed, and that sharing more would be regarded as an act of supreme hostility. The fact it still functions is troubling on marely levels."

>Moving the disc into position over Sparking Fleur's spine, as Carlos inspects the null-active stasis, it was apparent that causality had been violated: ripples of extreme energetic fracture-stress indicated perforations in the, technically, inviolable field.
>What had been significant fractures, tears, rips, and trauma through vertebrae, ribs, tendon, cartilage, muscles, fat, nervous system, and all other tissues had either been spontaneously or forcefully regenerated to a pre-recovered state, all without breaking stasis or alarming the extraordinarily energy-sensitive Ward's perception.
>Comparing against the natural equine, human, Minotaur, Dragon, and several other species' healing capabilities, upon judging the injuries, an event had definitely occurred which wasn't technologically, magically, or technically possible.

"You see them as well, I take it."
>Left forehoof on the stasis field, Nova's eyes were dimmed, though watching Carlos in true multitasker focus, voice low and tightly wound.
"Modifying an iota of biological material while a patient is in permarenent stasis is not normal in the slightest. Princess Cadenza is incapable of doing so, let alone Wards or healers of every type.
Not even the 'thing' I should not be thinking of can attempt as much without risking a lethal temporal backlash, which would destroy it's immortality fully.
Doctor, if you would examine Brume, I am attempting to locate a potential intruder-"
[1d6 = 3] <Calming Presence: Rage
[1d6 = 2] <Calming Presence: Time
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Vile Taunt
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7] <Deflect Magic
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <M.Casting: Auric Search
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

>>371102
>Tasting fragile, thickening aggression pouring out through the Clinic's interior walls, Snowfall realizes this was deeefinitely not the best time..
"So long as you leave when I demarend, you may stay. My auric field is close to snapping and I cannot allow more in the Clinic.
There are a number of concerns with Fleur and Brume's injuries that require them to be isolated. For one... nevermind, I do not have time to explain. You may aid Astral Poinsettia at leisure, she is not injured, merely resting."

>>371110
>As he works, his lips behind his helmet press together in a grim line.
>Hodch's elaboration was leaving it increasingly clear that Spiral was long beyond the grasp of most any currently living experts.
>He sends a final thought through the Moonstone, the disgust in his tone audible.
('... Then either Spiral found a miracle he needed others to help him reach, or only Silver can answer for her mistake now.')

>Remaining silent, he turns to focus on his efforts to fabricate something similar to the weapon he saw in his mind and repeats the prior process to hone the work.
>The voice in his head, presumably the voice of the Plane itself extols a particular set of virtues.
(Value alignment to the scientific method is... acceptable. So long as my objective can be accomplished, I can tolerate this level of involvement. I lack the time and resources to evaluate a Class designation for this Plane however so I can't fully acquiesce. Whatever your final objective is.)

[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Expert Small Arms + Skill Specializations (A.R.T/E.P.C.) + Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]< Extra Roll Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]< Expert Small Arms cont. + Skill Specializations (A.R.T/E.P.C.) + Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]< Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Graduate Researcher + Skill Specialization (M.E.CC.T.)
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>>371111
>Gallo let out a soft, rather excited little coo as the spheres orbited around him.
>He had to admit Lann was right.
>Specially with this little show they were doing.
"I wonder when this world will stop surprising me."
>Blinking softly for a few seconds to refocus on the question, he soon checked his current clothing for a bit.
"I wouldn't mind having as many pockets and pouches as fashion allows. They're always great."
>Having said that with an amicable smile, the man went pensive for a bit.
"May I inquire as to what a weather shield is? Is that a common piece of technology for heavily populated areas? Speaking of weather, should I consider a winter coat if I plan to visit Argenta?"

>>371112
>Cringing from the sudden assault upon my own sanity, I immediately understood where she was coming from.
>I didn't know metal could hate something.
"... How the fuck does anything even work in this place?"
>I shake my head and sigh a bit.
"If you can't shield it from doing... that, then yes, go ahead and drop it."
>..
"And if I had known that did... that, I wouldn't have said to keep it without reason. I apologize."

>Focusing back on a more reasonable idea, I shake away the ick from that experience.
"I see, will there be anything I would be able to do?"
>At the very least, poke my head in and see what's still functional.

>Aaaand she is definitely not sane.
>I don't want to attempt to even rationalize this one.

>>371078
>Looking around the herd abashed, Clemency looks down at Blackthorn
(First of all, it's not uncommon to refer to possessions as a female. Second, before Blackthorn became what she is, it was a SPAS-12, a regular shotgun that we might have a spare laying around.")
>Blackthorn doesn't even resemble what a SPAS-12 was before
>Bulky but ergonomic
>And fits like a glove

>Keeping his head high and continue to wrangle, he squeezes into formation with the five mares designated as his bodyguards
>They can probably coordinate with him if combat erupts
>Hearing Blackthorn being spoken to is new though
>Wonder if it can respond to others

>Going through the portal, Clemency sees the renewed focus of the Razorback Company
>Even his mind starts to sharpen through the physical exhaustion
>But their discussion of the effects is weird
>Brow furrowed in thought, Clem rubs his chin
("Well, I would normally call that willpower and intuition. As for hearing shit back at the Fortress, I'm surprised I can still hear since I'm with Twisted.")
>Clemency starts to pull up the M-S.O.L.G. interface to position the the camera on top of their formation and have it track them
("Actual answer rook is that I haven't put too much thought into it. I did feel much better mentally when I go flying with Twisted or drink but I would think that's just me.")

>>371114
>The reminiscing of his old life flash more as an amusing anecdote now.
"Hehe, the best medical education cartels could buy assured I would only treat the most dangerous of men. When it wasn't the caballeros themselves, it was some bendejo underling who thought they could... persuade me into treating the imposible. A fallen esse or hermano, riddles with bullet wounds. Massive drug overdoses. Illegal risky surgeries. And what do I do?"
>He taps his pen against his notebook to keep her attention, before cracking the right side of his doctor's coat to reveal his holstered 1911.
"I treat the sick and injured to the best of my habilidades. The bendejos... I show them the way out, if they know what's good for them. Hehe."
>His short retelling is quickly stifled by Nova not being able to sense Tipper. At all. As in she wasn't even on Tallus anymore.
>He smacks his forehead in mild befuddlement as the coincidence of losing the Clinic's head doctor and in the most literal way.
"Aye dios mio, what a night. We are still here, afortunadamente. The patients come first, with or without Abuela Tipper."

>Carlos listens diligently to the mare's explanation of Old Horn's Pred Elk. Copper infused right into their bodies.
"A naturally high conductividad. They almost act like a capacitor. Store too much electricity, and they overload themselves. Hmm..."
>Changing the subject to Tipper's everlasting spell, Carlos raises an eyebrow.
"A fine tuned spell, indeed. But for it to last this long on its own.. it's a wonder she did not burn herself out just from casting it alone."

>Observing what little he could find of bodily injury to the Pred Elk Fleur, he spots severe injuries that had healed considerably.
>Through stasis, no less. Narcolepsy aside, Miss Flicker would have picked up on such rapid changes through the field.
"Whatever force allowed it either is defeating or ignoring the nature of the stasis field. I have not much else to add to such a phenomenon. An intrusa? Aye..."
>Carlos looks around warily, but ultimately more focused on the patients. The Ward can handle the matter while he inspects Brume Gale.
"Si, of course."
>He takes the disc spell from Flicker and pans it over to Brume Gale's head injuries. He's expecting more miraculous regeneration, unless Fleur and Gale's situations are not related.
>The injuries are more important: sheared antler, concussion, eye damage. All other symptoms were congruent. He would still check for any signs of skull fracturing, especially around the orbital socket, as well was any brain bleeds.
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]<M.Perception
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]<M.Research: Surgical Analysis
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]<Teacher: Biology
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]

>>371102
>While he was inspecting Gale, a noise of the Clinic's door peeking open caused him to glance over.
>Another Pred Elk, a male going by its build and vocal tones. NOT the intruder Nova was attempting to flush out.
>The Ward gives the Pred Elk a pass for now, and Carlos ushers the visitor over with a hurried wave of his free hand and a hushed tone.
"Rapido, rapido! Seniorita Flicker is on the hunt, so to speak. Si, I am Carlos. What may I call you, senior?"
>He focuses back onto Blume Gale through the inspection spell, pointing to Poinsettia, then to Fleur, and Gale last.
"As mentioned previa. Miss Poinsettia appears to be burnt out, she is resting. Miss Fleur DID have severe spinal fractures and tissue injuries, but they are not only rapidly healing they are defeating the propiedades of a stasis field to do so. Blume Gale shattered an antler, and should have serious cranial injuries along with that. I am examining her, now. Is your kind capable of such spell-breaking regeneration?"
>Carlos, notepad at the ready, begins to take anything down worth mentioned by the fourth Pred Elk as well as continue documenting Gale's current prognosis.

>>371114
>>371126
>He really wanted to give a boost to Sparking and Gale, they were the ones that needed it most.
>His tail and ears wiggled in annoyance. His timing...
"I will return for the other two at a later date, thank you Nova."
>Snowfall entered the clinic at the behest of Carlos, his antlers clattering loud as he passed through the doors.

>Carlos was certainly not like the others humans Snowfall has observed. It was a pastime of his to watch humans go about their daily lives from a vantage point, usually his herds Treehouse. There was a part of him that is human, so naturally he would pay attention to any human that caught his eye. And Carlos already has.
"My name is Snowfall, Carlos."
>He indicated the best he could with his head to his body.
"Named after my coat."

>Snowfall slowly trots over to Astrals' bed so not to make more noise than he has already.
"She is lucky to be alive, as are we."
>He said quietly as he came to a stop next to one unconscious sister as he looked with sympathy at the others.
"No we do not. Not even Oldhorn can do that. However-"
>He turned his head towards the door, a small smile forming on his neutral expression.
"A powerful being calling itself Lin is possibly responsible. I asked if she could help my sisters, it appears she has done so."

>>371101
"Curious. Serfi, if that is the correct word, are free to perform any tasks for their mistress, or master, until their debt has been repaid. Afterwards they have all rights to stay with, becoming a retainer, part of the herd, or leave, though their time must be compensated for.
I have listened to a fair amount of human history, some of it bothers me but that particular point is especially difficult. One would never hear of a batpony Colony and think ill of it."
>Hefting the boxpack onto Krinza's anvil, twenty small, near-black discs floating from the back wall Helping placing forehooves on each and melding them into the titanium frame, horn surrounded in blazing metallic rings.
"Excluding the paranoid or hyper-suspicious-"
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Crafting
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <E.Enchanting
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E.Smith
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9] <Eidetic Fundamarentals

"There are some regions where Bits either cannot be used, or have been devalued: Neighsia, Argenta's Lands, Eyeraq, Rushya, the Free Ram Flocks of Ewerup to name the most important ones that I can recall. Ba'athens is questionable but I have heard little from them. The rest have severed their economies from Equestria and aggressively denied or refused all trade for the past two years.
What we call the Fallen Dynasty is, supposedly, a number of small city-states between the No Mare's Land of the Eastern New Everfree and the Gryphon Kingdoms. The Dynasty Remnants of Caneighdia is the entire permafrost lands south of the Crystal Empire Lowlands. Both should be avoided at all costs.
Everywhere else has an exchange ratio that depends on economy and importance compared to what Equestria trades, however, the Bit has lost considerable value."
>Setting the pack down to scrutinize each of the magnets, Helping turns an annoyed stare up, the giant coldstone brightening at a firm gesture, now drawing in heat.
"Strange. It should not have taken this long to work properly.. well.
It is certain that Moorites are generally lazy for twenty-nine hours and thirty minutes per cycle. What makes them distinct is the potential for a half hour of frenzied, often suicidal aggression, combined with highly destructive natural, Elemarental, Void, semi-Eldritch, among worse, bombs, weapons, and armors.
Only three factions have enough excellent equipmarent to equip every single pony in a certain domain. Fewer still are able to source and completely fill an entire battalion in a single night.
In any case, being assaulted by a thousand batponies is thus either utterly horrifying due to their armamarents... or utterly terrifying due to their other armamarents."
>Snorting at the triple-entendre, Helping then nods towards Lann's growing collection of tables, marenequins, and clothing racks.
"I have overheard the hoof-touching pair discussing the Central Moors now has approximately two hundred newish Armories, five times that number of garrison-depots, and ten times the previous of purely storage depots.
A batpony which does not have an immediate use for an item will place it in the first safe place the object fits. If they cannot think of a long term use or does not feel like trading it, said item will be sorted out by tradesmares in their Creche or Colony. Eventually. Lann has already expressed great joy at the thoughts of rare silks coming in more frequently."

>>371116
"When you stop being surprised of course!"
>Snickering as she sorts through spools, collecting a few that looked distinctively metallic before pausing, head tilting left as her ears twitch around in circles.
"Do have a few custom designs.. there's one that can take six, eight, or ten armored containers for bottles, small bombs, canisters, grenades, canister grenades, that sort. Maybe twelve if they're not big. Size is sort of adjustable thanks to a springy material Krinza figured out how to make. Can be moved around without much trouble too.
Pockets are weatherproof and seal tight after closing; eight large, six medium, ten small, four tiny. Internal pockets are the same: four large, six medium, eight small, ten tiny. Also can attach armored magazine racks so long as I know the size and shape."
>Right hoof pointing out to the side, numerous sheets of thin, possibly synthetic materials lift out of a large crate, placed down on her desk for a close inspection.
"Mm? It's a solid energy shield that keeps snow, rain, sleet, hail, lightning, small meteors, ash, and pretty much everything else solid or semisolid from getting in. Or out, sometimes. They usually don't have a particular Elemarental attuning, and barely do anything against temperature changes.
And, no, they're super rare since the Dynasty fell apart. Biggest and oldest one is in the Crystal Empire, their crystalline bio.. tech.. stuff makes it work. That one's huge though, never seen it but heard it can protect the whole City-State for months on end.
Some places in Saddle Arabia and Neighsia have weathershields too, but only for small, important, or rich towns."
>Swiveling around once more to watch the sheet being corrected, mostly, Lann's ears fold backwards, her tone slightly annoyed as she pushes the chair back.
"Don't know much about Argenta, sorry. They stopped trading with Equestria some time back. Again, take that cloak if you want."
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <M.Seamstress
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Crafting Kit
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Sewing Kit

"Have some business that badly needs taken care of right now, after that I'll start on a coat and heavy pants for you-"
>Hopping off, and landing much more heavily than expected, the chunky mare's head bends forwards to inspect inspect every millimeter of stone floor under her.
>Lifting to stare at the floor in her vicinity, then outwards, she pauses, turning heavily to face east and breaking into an incredible pounding sprint.
>Bright, gold-tinged outlines of a partially round doorway appear, the mare slamming headfirst into it, shouting quite angrily-
"I DON'T KNOW OR CARE WHAT YOU ARE BUT YOU WILL STOP MESSING WITH MY WORK!"
[1d6 = 3] <ENRAGE
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Shattered Earth
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E.Sprint
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+9 = (6+9) = 15] <M.Assault
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (4+9) = 13]
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
>vs:
[1d6 = 6] <oh shit

>>371139
>José snorted in amusement in tandem with Lann's snicker, nodding along with her various explanations for his questions.
>So apparently, he could have 56 pockets for various items and there's some super rare weather protection technology that's been discontinued due to The Dynasty fell apart.
>Sheesh, how more loaded can these nuggets of information can get?

>As he took the winter garments offered by Lann, Gallo's eyes widened as his body instinctively shifted sideways to properly assess just what had set her off.
>He really shouldn't interfere with what seemed to be some extraplanar business that he was ill equipped for
>...or should he?
>Maybe this is normal for Tallus residents?
>Worst case scenario, Lann can probably take care of herself judging by the powerful display of physical aptitude.
>Relaxing back into a proper standing pose, he'd gently walk over to the doorway frame currently being banged by a mare's head.
>Of course, he'd avoid being directly behind Lann just in case her anger may be directed towards him out of a vague recollection on real life horse lessons he had when he was younger.
(Let's see where this goes.)

>>371138
"Indentured servants didn't exactly stick around, though they did usually end up continuing to work for the contract holder after it expired, if they were paying well enough."
>Ivan held his hand up and shook it in an 'eh' motion.
"During colonial times, it was pretty cheap to purchase land or even pre-built places to live, so they could afford to do so."
>He decidedly left out the fact that often, native peoples were fucked over by land purchases.

"I won't deny that I am... quite familiar with the idea of money being useless."
>He glanced off to the side.
"I was a part of a faction that was... selectively collective. No need for money, sharing supplies with each other when able to."
>Grimacing behind his helmet, he looked back to Helping.
"I left them after... an unknown amount of time passed, and helped reform Clear Sky to what it exists today as."

>>371088
>Providing neither information nor helpful protocols on how to be an escortee, the Assault Vanguards each make a slight, rear leg extending motion, acknowledging they would ensure your safety.
('We're all soaked in lather right now, wouldn't be fun.')
('Bet you wouldn't mi-')
('This. Isn't. The. Time. After a nice, LONG, FREEZING shower or bath, possibly. Right now, not a chance.')
('How come the batponies here aren't attracting creatures like all of us are?')
('You're serious?')
('Yyyyes? Yes., I am')
('They've adapted to live here, are highly Void attuned, and most creatures know where there's one batpony, there's at least a hundred more out of sight.')
('Yes. So?')
('You really are dense..')
('I know, thanks!')
('Why do I bother...')

>Finally able to start moving, the ranks ahead enter a short two-hoofsteps per second speed, roughly two hundred ahead at four hooves per second.. which was a reasonable 3MPH march in human standards.
>Surveying through the moderate fog, outside nearly hot equine and human armors the surrounding swamp and marsh were still save for tiny ripples on surface water.
>Knowing how often threats were either submerged or lurked in Void spectrums, the thermal wasn't picking up anything out of place that you could tell.
>Half-sunken logs at the edge of vision had been abandoned within the past few minutes, mostly by hot blooded imprints which were barely faded.
>Other than solid hoofboots on stone, clanks, clinks, or clacks from armor, weapons clattering against the same, this part of the Central Moors had been quickly abandoned by smaller creatures, leaving the larger ones in potentially better positions.
>That is, if there weren't a thousand Psions or far more Crystal Empire forces keeping watch.

>Attention focused on the surroundings, the Rookie's quintet of Assault Vanguard urge him, politely, to speak again.
('Okay. something like I'm about to reach out and grab some jackass's drink to toss in his face, but there's a neutral individual watching me. It doesn't talk out loud, or in my head, doesn't make any physical motions, and isn't looking at me, but I can feel it dissuading me from screwing up.')
('Is it more being guided into a proper act, or trying to correct you from committing a mistake?')
('Definitely the first.')
>Taking position before the first scout rifle carrier enters, the lead Shieldmare hrm's internally, motioning for the One Hundred to accompaneigh her.
('Have you been subjected to guilt or shame during the times you have experienced such?')
('Nope. Like being told: you're better than that, this isn't the right way, or being petty is beneath you, but I'm not being spoken down to or chided either.')
>Gazing upon the wide variety of Crystal forces, then focusing on you with a twinge of consideration, the leadmare's snout twitches.
('Perhaps you have acquired a nature akin to theirs.. or your teacher ingrained certain aspects of her training.')

('Why is this place such a mess?!')
('Threats?')
('Five giant insects-')
('Five DEAD giant insects. Moving the bodies now.')
('Huh, Impact Seals work really well here.')
('Eewwww it's all over me!')
('Don't think I've ever seen insides become outsides that fast. You three, remove the pieces and wash her armor off.')
('Anypony know these?')
('Long antennae, flat body sections, highly streamlined, quick to mareneuver in water. Triangular head, forty hooves long, twenty-five hooves tall or so. Full insect, predatory. Front claws covered in spines, not serrations or blade-like. No wings.. I think. Thin carapace, durable but not against a standard lance.')
('Large swamp rippers, related to mantidae, not common. Any unusual features?')
('Does nearly pissing myself when something the size of a Minotaur can jump out of water without making more than a few tiny ripples happen to count?')
('I'll.. take that as a no.')
('No discernible acids, toxins, or Elemarentals. Clean, so to speak. And not liked.')

>>371175
(Puta. Too slow)
>Gallo let out a soft sigh, clearly overestimating the time window to act due to his careful hubris.
>It looked like Lann was winning thankfully, and it seemed it wasn't the first time this fight happened.
>Something about it felt awfully wrong though.
>Did that extraplanar being really deserve such a punishmarent?

>Shaking his head at his thought process halted, José opted to exit the Workshop with the spare coat on his shoulder.
>Turning around to face the door with a pensive hum, he quickly decided to trot over to the Bulletin Board to fetch some writing supplies.
>A couple post-it notes and a pen if possible. Otherwise, he can improvise.
>Following that, he'd come back to write down a simple message on the front door:
'Miss Lann is currently out.'
>Afterwards, he'd go back inside and write another message:
'Miss Lann. When you come back from your extraplanar beatdown, please remove the note outside."

>Having done that, he soon focused up on his plan to travel to Argenta.
>Thus, unless somehow Lann pops up before he started or just when he finished, he'd soon walk over to where the Remant was to promptly ask for travel advice towards his intended destination.

>>371090
>Risking a headache to stare at the closed down gateway, one of the darker robed Luna's Villager's gives a batpony-eating-lemons facial scrunch before flopping over heavily.
"Your face might get stuck that way if you stay here for long."
"..wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen."

>Dissecting reports through the Charger and Lancer chains of commarend, the leadmare sends a request outwards for psions and unicorns to inform Crystal ponies of their findings, one of the Lunar Combat Support unicorns in the front ranks thinks aloud.
('Do you mean the Kee-Chain, a long distance communication network? They have been delivering messages up and down the vines since we arrived. However, I cannot understand the language.')
('Mostly warnings to stay on Basin Arena road, point out critters in vicinity to us, close down towers, that sort. Batponies won't ever join an Overherd but they all know Common so we're getting news way ahead of time.')
('Is this Kee-Chain the most efficient thing batponies have?')
>Deadpan choruses of yes's from earth pony and unicorn Lunars absolutely obliterate the young Day Guard mare's notions of complete solidarity, the Assault Vanguard's leader snorting loudly.
('If you were expecting them to say anything else, I have a copy of the series on batpony songs and poems from the 28,600's that might be of cultural interest to you.')
('Oh? What are they about?')
('What are the five acts batponies are best known for? Here's a hint: the last one is well over ninety percent of what they wrote.')
('Wellll... sleeping, making friends, eating, setting up pranks, and... ....oh.')
('Now do you understand?')
('Wish I didn't.')

>Turning a concerned Mind's Eye at you, the leadmare exits into the garrison-depot's realspace, taking a younger Operator with her as five more Councilierge Assault Vanguards form around the man.
('There are approximately sixteen thousand ponies and humans here, large numbers would cause vast ripples throughout Void spectrums and potentially disrupt Gravity.')
('What the Shieldmare means to say is: better to deal with the limited physical threats than the other possible or potential ones. Bes-')
('SNAAAAAAKE!')
('KILLITKILLITKILLITKILLIT-')
('STOP SMACKING IT IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE THE HEART IS YOU IDIOTS! SEVER THE HEAD!')
('Or deliver enough concussions to knock it out, which is an acceptable use for Impact Seals and Shattering Spheres.')
('.......squeamish, paranoid, and highly excitable mares excluded. There isn't much that could deter all of us.')
>Desiring nothing more than stuffing her armor with a dozen Superior coldstones, another Lunar unicorn figuratively checks off the majority of fauna and flora.
('Of the known threats here, individual floral, faunal, or hybrid predators, small numbers of medium to extra large predators, variable sized swarms, are the most common. As well, there are no more Abominations, Malformed, Discontent, Unspoken, or.. Tainted, among others. A few hooves worth of megafauna remain, those we would notice quickly, same for the Eldtrich and Plane-touched.')

>Receiving stark acknowledgements from the Operators around you, particularly from One Hundreds, nearly forty awake, and most importantly coherent, Villagers weigh their own experiences in the Fortress.
('Been saying there's something new for weeks now.')
('The Copper Predatory-Elk are not full Druids, nor do they have capabilities which match the given descriptions.')
('I can guarantee Hollow and those Changelings that visit are likewise not responsible.')
('We've seen Hodch and Mercy out talking to walls or empty air a few times, who knows what they've seen.')
('Ehhh, those two don't like sharing certain topics. If they don't say something then it's best to leave 'em alone.')
('Those are not ghosts. I think.. I hope.')
('Ghosts are fine, Spectrals are not. Overall we've dealt with maybe.. ten in and around the Fortress.')
('Hmph, that silverine skinned whore of a horse was most troublesome, but, she would not have taken such a quiet approach. It is profoundly amazing that most of Razorback was able to tolerate her idiotic presence often as they did. Then again it is equally remarkable she is not here.')
('You've met her?')
('Several times, each worse than the previous.')
>Wishing he could distance himself from Lunar volatility, the Assault Vanguard's lead stallion rolls the new information across Solar and Stalliongrad earth pony minds for their considerations, more than a hundred studying the remaining Operators until an older, retired Villager quiets the rest.
('Do you mean Spiral Disclosure? The Reclusive Marquis of Canterlot Underground?')
('Yes, that's him all right. With us for a while.')
('No one or pony knows where he went. Why?')
('Went off range a while back, hasn't returned since.')
('I'm.. not sure. Head hurts, give me a few minutes to think.')

>The mixed Guard in Basin Village achieve an equilibrium, passing through the gateways more rapidly while ranks ahead of the garrison-depot settle into a standard march.
>Numbers rapidly filling ten lines, the Shieldmare notes the entirety of Crystal forces had entered, issuing an order for all remaining Razorback and Councilierge to do the same as the Ethereal Golem stomps past her, frowning at the Ethereal's tinged presence.
('I will never enjoy that sensation.. form properly once you have arrived.')

('Leadmare, this must be corrected. Immediately.')
('What?')
>Turning around to face the gateways, the Shieldmare's helmet cocks as the Villager's thoughts section from the Overherd, jerking back wide eyed.
('What? Why?! You can't expect me t-')
('You will perform what I have instructed or there will be repercussions. All Lunars disconnect now-')
('Damn you! I am sorry to do this but-')
>Reality is wrenched aside briefly as the Overherd is forced to blink, wiping out two previous seconds of memory, the leadmare's tone bitter.
('Do not question what I was.. forced to remove.')

>>371125
>Blinking at two seconds of memory being wiped from your recall, the Assault Vanguard's leader issues orders for the rest of his battalion rest to form around the last Operators entering gateways.
('Similar conventions.. not what I meant, though there are at least three of that model or similar among Stalliongrad's humans.
Rather, what was the specific Construct component that joined with your weapon to become what she is now? Symbiotic weapons are incredibly rare since they're usually prioritized for destruction first. That doesn't include Riftdrowners as they're technically flora and tend to be.. less troublesome.')

>Surrounded by hundreds of Guard mares, in lines no less, that weren't posing a threat, for once, joining the march west in warm, overly humid Moors air was a bit too familiar, though the sense of Lunars disconnecting from the Overherd, then being reconnected was odd.
>The wide stone pathway ahead was partially lit by gleaming Crystal ponies, unicorns, and Minotaurs interspersed by Guard; definitely the same route you'd taken before, though far safer now.
('Hm, prolonged close proximity to Enchained hasn't been studied, but that particular burnt feather scent is known fairly much everywhere in Equestria. Half of my herd knows it.')
('Or if it has then nopony's shared that knowledge-')
>Quelling that argumarent, the Assault Vanguard's leader rolls his eyes, focusing on you through the five mares surrounding, their helmets turn to regard you with interest.
>At least not in dangerous mareners.
('You have a number of peculiar energy-dense enchantmarents in your possession Master Clemency. One faint taste of blood, Lunar physicals and energetics, something acrid. Those we don't recognize, except the Moon Orb.
Blackhorn is distinct but there's.. another Construct piece. Incredibly deep impressions of pain and regret. Solid, hard, difficult to place. A few crystal resonances, one is familiar though I can't tell why.
Hm. Perhaps being with the Burning General and having a wide variety of enchantmarents is protecting you. Or more.. ..I have no damned idea, it's too hot to think straight in this helmet-')
('I dunno, some of us hang around Twisted and Clem every night. Least until we need ear plugs-')
('If that was the case most of us wouldn't have been feeling whatever's in the Fortress.')
('My collection of enchants is wilder than what flyboy has so that isn't right either. Not bragging or dissing man, just stating facts.')
('Like you really needed one of every Element-')
('I did! Kind of.')
('Then only two of Razorback have not experienced unusual activity, both of which.. no? That's wrong too, a number of you have Empire weapons, armor, devices, and resonances. This isn't making sense-')
('Only common links between Lont and Clem I can think of: they deal with Twisted a lot, been to the Empire more often than most of us, and they have a few crystalline things.')
('Uh, dude? Pay attention some time, the same can be stated for probably a quarter of us.')
('Then I'm at a loss and speculating more won't help.')

>Taking the line's rear with his own guards, the Assault Vanguard eyes the ponies, humans, and Minotaurs marching west, souring at the Minor Champion escorting the Shieldmare ahead, then nods towards the remaining unicorns in Basin Village.
('We're the last ones. Close the gates down mares, you've done amazingly well.')
>Faint, half-hearted marental cheers from themselves are briefly overwhelmed by sincere outpourings of praise and gratitude from Lunar, Solar, and Watch Guard alike, before severing from the Overherd.

>Reorienting from the trio of Constructs and colossal gateway atop Basin Arena eastwards, thick fog and sparse cloud cover hid most of the road, though you note the top of a small, tree-like tower.
>Passing over it... of course there were ponies sprawled across the top.
>The next tower was a common pegasi version, taller though barely seen, while the third was entirely hidden.
>Finally spotting the front most ranks of fast marching Day Guard, easily picked out by their armor, then individual Crystal ponies, unicorns, or Minotaurs, the Night, Lunar, and Watch Guard were much harder to make out.
>Lead elemarents rotating out on contact with threats, dealing with short assaults, being scrubbed down, and foraging, it was clear the combined forces weren't going to be impeded easily, if at all.
>Unable to find where you were precisely, the sheer number of Kingdom, Imperial, and other aligned forces throughout the ten rows was certainly unusual, and striking.

>Shifting their lances to point straight upwards and reforming, one ahead, one left and right at close proximity, two behind spread apart in a half-meter interval, the five heavily armored earth mares match your pace.
('Fog and mist here normal for this time of night and year?')
('Think so. Just keep your Mind's Eyes looking outwards.')
>Sharing a single thought, that being not one pony had offered their saddle already, the youngest mare starts to snicker, then cuts off that thought at a report from the front.

('There's a big pink something or other coming at us. Not crystalline or Ethereal, feels strange but I think we sa-')
('DON'T ENGAGE, THAT IS A... JUST DON'T ENGAGE!')
('That's Mercy all right-')
('Is there a particular reason most of you are afraid of her?')
('About fifty REALLY FUCKING SHARP reasons!')
('I can think of FOUR that we've been trampled by-')
('You have no idea what that mare can do when she's irritated, be glad for that.')
('...understood.')
>Overherd's attention focusing through the leading squad's eyes, and several Mind's Eyes, the Spirit Walker's searing presence exits from a heavily distorted Void spectrum, landing in the road's center with a loud huff.
>Raising both wings in a strange marener, to some ponies at least, marener, the more Hegemony inclined denote it as an honor circle, pink wingblades fluoresce brightly, her weapon symbiote missing.
"I will not allow a single individual to pass."
"...what."

>>371184
>Jeff mentally chuckles to himself as the Day Guard's mind is bombarded with the causality of batponies. The Kee-Chain was known to him, and he's heard more than enough songs sung throughout the Village to know EXACTLY what they meant.

>So they will just all stick together then. From the scouting reports, safety in numbers was the best tactic they could have right now.
>Sixteen thousand plus should be a safe number, hopefully.
('There better NOT be any more Tainted roaming around, at least. Not after what we just had to bear witness to... we must have put every last one to rest.')

>As a quintet of Vanguards form up on him, the rear line finally passes through the Gateway into the other part of the Moors. Already into a slow march, welp fast enough trudging through the Moors as it would.
>Each strange habit and resident of Razorback was quickly dismissed, or mildly questioned.
('Didn't say I knew everything that goes on the the Fortress. Just spit-balling.')
>He didn't even mention the indestructible vegetarian burrito...
>Jeff checks their position on his TacPad to see how far away they were from the Basin Arena. He kept a marker on it, considering the relay's position there.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <TacPad: GPS

>An odd sensation courses over him. Something disappeared, but he doesn't know what.
>Did everything just taste like-
>He feels like it was his fault.
>And that he should just drop it.
>Yepp. That worked for him, considering their current situation.

>>371185
>As their march continues underway, the Overherd focuses on an object closing in on them.
>Big pink something. Was it Mercy?
>Yupp, it was Mercy.
>She must have flown all the way from the Arena.
>And she was alone. Where was Sunny? Did something happen to the newbie pegasus? She didn't come off as a strong flier as Mercy was, or more of a flier anyway..
>Huh. Her symbiote was missing. Something happen with the Constructs, or Riftseeker?
>Landing, she splays her wings as if to block their advance, clearly exhausted getting to them a quick as possible.
>He directs his thoughts to the leadmare up front.
('She must have rushed all the way from the Arena to intercept us. We should listen and yield to her.')
>Jeff then focuses on Mercy, mentally and physically waving at her from the rear line.
('Mercy, I'm all the way in the back. Are you okay? Where's Sunny?')
>Making sure her well being was alright, he gets down to the brass tacks of the situation.
('We've already discussed the possibility of either fighting the Planar Constructs, the Riftseeker, or neither. Just tell us what to do.')
>He remembers she was already shaken from initially arriving at the Village, and then the symbiote merging with her. Regardless, he trusts her judgment of the situation.

>>371089
>Forelegs raised and rear legs extended, the Construct leans forwards, flapping once and skimming above the road, the motions thoroughly equine yet modified to obtain minimum air resistance.
>Thinking back to the smashed multi-legged insect and recalling it as a rare acidic variety of hunting centipede, the amount of damage the Construct had taken was far worse than if a pony had done so.
>Eyeing the intact, perfectly restored front hooves, you realize the symbiote's armored false-shell was highly vulnerable due to being incredibly thin, barely equivalent to common sheet metal.
>While incapable of absorbing damage compared to its bonded state, if sensations of pain were simulated it wouldn't expend unnecessary energy to display as much, let alone care for restoring itself unless there was a strong self-preservation instinct.
>This version was either mimicking a specific individual or had been formed through a sincere, strong connection.
>Not only could it experience emotion, it was feeling the strain of functioning beyond normally expected capabilities and capacities.
>The blind mare shares her spiritual connection and unsubtle rationale with Tallus to the Rift Plane's raw physicality and brute force logic, each covering the weaknesses of the other.
>Live or die, it did not need to protect Mercy, rather it had a single desire: to exist alongside her as a partner, no more or less.
>Outside those few currently bonded with a symbiote, none would try to understand, fewer would attempt to, and, without fail, the majority WILL treat Mercy as a direct threat.
>You try to think of a single pony that would RATIONALLY accept the knowledge.. it was a tiny few.
>The wrong word would easily cut that number by half.

>Right wingclaws splaying out and shaking in a polite dismissing motion, then presenting an overlay of a barely Euclidean landscape, marsh analogue land masses covered in Riftdrowner sections.
>A miniature version of itself creeps into view, extending a hoof out to touch highly viscous, heavy metallic liquid.
>The Rift Plane was not a mirror of Tallus. It was, is, and will remain a reflection seen at whichever skewed angle the viewer's perspective was placed.
>Shutting the scene down with a heavy flap as you enter a flat out running pace, its head shakes before pointing forwards:
>Fractures of open Void on both sides of the road stretch into swamps and bogs, streaks of jet black armored batponies water-skimming in pairs.
>Your mane bristles defensively at tinges of glowing Eldritch-touched weapons leaving raw, long trails of warped colors behind them.
>Hunter-Killers, considered by marecenaries all across Tallus to be the least fanatic.. of the fanatic Moorites, second best conversationalists, fifth most lewd, though vastly more prone to aggressive bartering.
>Not paying attention to the road, you, or the symbiotic Construct, instead searching for and brutally eliminating every possible nuisance, the path ahead is streaked with blood, ichor, chitin chunks, scales, severed heads of small insects.. and worse.
>A ringing, sharp up-up-down whistle reverberates on water from the north, the Hunter-Killer pairs snap upwards with heavy wing buffers, rolling over to streak in that direction.
[1d2000 = 801] <Central Moors Threat

>Pearlescent eyes gleaming, the Construct's head turns to study each one as long as possible, the expression melancholy.. and etched with guilt.
[1d6 = 1] <???
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]

>>371191
>Sunny gazed pensively at the construct, just observing it was providing her a great deal of insight. Though not enough to be certain, that would require more invasive examination. Deconstruction, analysis, accessing and interpreting its programming medium. All things she doubted it would allow, nor would Mercy.
>The uncertain nature of its emotive displays alone posed ethical issues with doing so as well.
>Rationally speaking, understanding construct motives and mediums was of paramount importance to her in the long term. Yet it had, seemingly, stabilised Mercy and kept her from experiencing a breakdown, as Mercy was a near irreplaceable Razorback asset, that gave it much more value than as a mere subject of study. Thus her short term goals were better served by leaving it be, and even preventing further damage and possible destruction.
>She was careful to present no outward indication of her thoughts, no speech, no body language, no twitch of the ears, no ruffle of the wings, no bunching of her muscular outside her movement, no cold glares. Perfect, practiced neutrality. She couldn't be sure how well, or how deeply it could predict the intentions of others having learned from Mercy, and did not want it to perceive her as an imminent threat.
>It was highly vulnerable to physical damage. If its psychological match with Mercy extended to combat capabilities, it was reasonable to assume that it was optimised for ranged combat, lacking physical resilience by simple design. A weakness and role that would be covered by Mercy's capabilities. If it saw no other choice in pursuing its goal, or directive, or desire, it would and had engaged in melee, even if it was just stomping on a bug. In theory.
>Therefore it was following its general directive, but with a less than optimal strategy to avoid damage to itself, perhaps thinking any damage to her had to be avoided, even at cost to itself. That tracked with Mercy's recklessness, which she guessed that they might share, if for different reasons.
>Adjustment, then.

>Sunny slowed her place slightly and pulled out her... Never-you-mind-what-it-was-called Flask, showing it to the batstruct.
"Avoid further damage to yourself, even if it means allowing me to incur damage. I'm more resilient, and easier to repair with this. Reconvening with Mercy is best served by role division, utilise ranged combat only, I will distract on the ground."
>Turning her attention back to her surroundings, and with some mild concern at what the Hunter-Killers might do if they encountered the batstruct a little closer, Sunny noticed that the bat ponies had already been well at work all but slaughtering any and all potentially hostile wildlife in their path.
>Whoof. That wasn't good. Even predatorial creatures deserved to be left alone if they weren't actively hostile and could be avoided.
"And... Perhaps avoid their example, anything we can outrun or that isn't displaying an active interest doesn't need to neutralised."
>That was probably a short list in itself, but it needed to be said.

>>371181
>Exiting the Workshop and reaching the Bulletin Board without interruption, neither equine or human in view, it had been completely stripped.
>Only a single note was stuck in the center:
"DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ACQUIRE CONTRACTS OR ADD ANYTHING TO THESE BOARDS, UNDER THREAT OF ROUST BEING DROPPED ON YOU. FULLY KITTED OUT." -Bubba
>Locating dozens of pens and a single pad of the most hated multicolored Post-Its, cheap, weak glue backing, there was enough light from the structure's roof to write out both messages.
>Returning to the Workshop and affixing both onto the north entrance door, it takes a few seconds to recall the the building layout.

>Heading south between older above fairly standard above ground barracks and new underground barracks, the intensely lit up Pagoda was hard to miss.
>Passing by the bright yellow fountain's west side, it was quiet now, the fountain drained and no longer operating, unusual floral scents surrounding the area.
>Reaching the Pagoda's north entrance and stepping in, the mismatched couches were quite different compared to last night.
>The large, fluffy bright red couch to your immediate right was currently occupied by a visibly mid-60's, black cloth-suited pegasus mare lying on her right side, facing south.
>Muted sunglow mane and brittle, straight white coat could be Solar related, ears swiveling in your direction though not looking; judging by the easy going though typical high alert marecenary posture this one was approachable.
>Clasped in the pegasi's front legs is an unmoving, bright white pinniped likewise lying on its right side, jet black flippers and long whiskers prominent, either sleeping or making no attempt to move.
>Right of the southern entrance/exit is the trade stall you recall well from last night, and seated on a low couch directly behind a dark wood trader's table is a visibly appealing, though cold-blooded young mare:
>Half-transparent like Naliyna, the coat is a mixture of semi-glowing blue shades that change without rhyme or rhythm in starburst patterns, the mane and tail are peculiar, rolling selections of light and dark fuchsia.
>Esoteric, starburst patterned scars that didn't match human weapons, or any explosive you could think of, feature prominently across the Crystal mare's chest, an unusual burn starting above the right eye, ending in the center of the same ear.
>Brightly fluorescing fuchsia eyes shift from the white pegasus on to you, an uncomfortable, possibly dangerous examination, volatile emotions flicker before relenting to a stiff, formal expression.
>Left forehoof lifting and tapping the trade table in an unsubtle 'come in' motion, the voice a low, agreeably rolling chime, respectful yet not welcoming.
"If you're looking for my dam, Naliyna, or her stallion, Thrill, they haven't returned from wherever they went. No idea where they've gone, or most of Razorback for that matter.
And I don't do paperwork unless its vital."
>The pegasi mare's head swivels around, two hard, piercing yellow eyes settling on you, studying up and down three times in no-nonsense-allowed patterns.
>Speaking in an aerily carefree, tired voice that, shockingly, couldn't be more than late 20's, or early 30's at worst, her left black cloth covered wing raises in greeting.
"Don't recognize you but hello all the same. Shanis of Tartarus Isle, humans love calling me the Marecenary Queen and sometimes Big Bitch-"
>Lips pulling back in reflective humor, her eyes flick right, then left back to you, head dipping in slight, respectful acknowledgemarent.
"Both are good. Also, insanely bored because I can't hoof out contracts, jobs, or 'other' work. Don't feel like getting crushed by a horse tonight. Or any other night."
>Leaning forwards several degrees, the Crystal mare's eyes squint, ears snapping around in circles before snorting in quiet, vaguely tense humor.
"That's rich coming from the mare that hires an entire companeigh's worth of Otherworld stallions every single night without fail. Why not trade her something valuable?"
"Don't push me you not-even-herded-yet pain on my teats, already tried that a few dozen times. Roust doesn't care for much other than food or stuff she can give to humans."
>Giving the Crystal mare a sharp, faux-derisive stare, the younger's eyes rolls as she looks away, Shanis turning a victorious, warm smile towards you.
"So, how can I help? ..IF I can help that is."

>>371115
('I can only pray the first is what we find. Or force into existence.')
>Heavily occupied with making final selections, Hodch's upbeat mood shifts into a mixture of disgruntled fact and cold-blooded, well controlled murderous intentions.
('Even if my knowledge turns out to be completely useless in the future I have no reason to lie now.
Four years ago my Order finally decided which plan would be activated should the Empress reappear or take an active role once more. The shortest version is this: we would kill her or be wiped out to the last.
Overwhelming her is, and I am stating this as a matter of ruthless efficiency, basic math formulae. Humans hate this term: acceptable losses. Ponies are equivalent yet we prefer to die knowing that our efforts shift the scales of justice by one millionth of a degree.
The maximum numerical losses to achieve a complete victory was fifty-nine thousand Discordite Destroyers, every Lunar-aligned pony capable of deploying a Grand Spell combined with those capable of Eldritch, Planar, Otherworld, Extra-Planar, and other capabilities were specifically selected. In total, sixty-eight thousand, two hundred and forty were expected.
Sufficient weaponry, armor, artifacts, and relics were stockpiled for centuries in the event of Silver's inevitable reappearance. In addition to acquiring, trading, recovering, producing, borrowing, and stealing in certain cases, we were fully prepared.. but now I have no idea where the rest of my Order is.
My apologies, it's close to Dawn and staying awake is far more difficult than ever. Nibbles has agreed not to mess with you, though Katyal will forever be a pain in the ass. She cannot respect orders or authority which have not been earned, but she does not cause harm without reason.
Sleep well when you can.')

>Drawing upon forgotten, barely remembered, genetic, conceptual, and ingrained knowledge, the Storm King's last, amused words intone across the Elemarental Plane of LIghtning's vastness.
"We consider the fourth act most hallowed: achieving principle of purpose. No matter how refined the skills of one may be, the superiority of materials, or the function of an object, existence wrongfully seeks perfection. A chase which does not end is inherently flawed.
Mortality must not be wasted; death must not be feared. Cherish what you have as I could not."
>Strict realizations filter through your logic-seeking thoughtforms, extending outwards to compare solely material sciences to Elemarental practicality.
>While specific requirements couldn't be bypassed or ignored, Lightning and Gravity were not bound by the same definitions your universe featured.
>Both had been persuaded to function interdependently in the past, and would do so once more.
>Eagerly.
>As the necessary definitions of this weapon's intended results align to your willing guidance, both hands firmly stretch out to finish this work.
>Modifying the Lightning Plane's rationale-based ideas of a ranged weapon, it would allow you to seek out and impress individual gravitons to be temporarily contained.
>Improving, reducing, and modifying individual components to hybrid standards, the processes flow, minutiae of how in favor of efficient redesigns that that wouldn't be out of place on Tallus, your home world, and this Plane.

>Stepping back from the anvil's solid nature, you knew what the prize in your hands was intended for, its purpose outlined, defined, repaired, and redefined to acceptable standards.
>Its principle was unfulfilled for now, but it had every right and reason to function properly.
>Honorably extolled in their use, furnace, forge, and tools each return to their waiting conceptual states or stasis.
>Over three-quarters of an hour on Tallus had passed; Dawn would soon arrive as the Solar Alicorn prepares to stride forth and collect her ponies once more.

>>371196
>With the empty Bulletin Board fresh in his mind, José let out a somewhat uneasy exhale as he entered the Pagoda.
>Even after being succinctly informed on the lack of veteran personnel, it was only now when he started to feel it.
>The fact the previously familiar face of Nalinya was absent might've been the biggest piece of evidence.
>Not to mention the blunt threats for trying to add any work-related items to where it should be their respective area.

>His train of thought was quickly derailed when the young Crystal mare beckoned him over as he subconsciously took in the scene, blinking a couple of times as he approached the serenly uncomfortable situation.
"Good morning, miss."
>He promptly gave the cold-blooded equine a curt bow and a small yet reserved smile.
>She must be Starglow.
>Following his greeting, he soon turned to Shanis with a more outgoing grin as he slightly loosened up his posture.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Shanis. I am José."
>He didn't quite get her sense of humor however, softly tilting his head.
>There was this curious gaze, like he'd ask why would she enjoy being crushed by horses, before taking a swift inhale and shelving it for more intriguing matters.
>Gently crouching to look at the currently held pinniped, his smile became warmer.
"For starters: Who's this fella you've got there?"

>>371177
>Lont hummed as he surveyed the marching armies surroundings. It appears they were truly safe from the usual flora and fauna of the Moors, 'safety in numbers' came to mind.
>The only thing to attack such a formidable force out here were either desperate, had nothing to lose or were insane.
>"Or a Rift Seeker."

>With no threats in sight Lont focused back to the quite odd discussion prompted by the FNG all the way back at the ass end of the army.
>It was certainly intriguing. Some hidden force influencing this newbie, and it was starting to sound like a certain pony that had an influence on him even from beyond the grave.
>Speaking of which.
('Both.')
>He said plainly to the Leadmare.
('Physically I am a bit more Crystalline than I used to be-')
>The muscles across his back spasmed as his wings flittered in place to punctuate his point.
(-And spiritually I have taken Her training to heart like a lance to my chest.')
>He smiled coyly at his own self referencing pun.
('Gentle, yet powerful.')

>>371184
>Lont blinked.
>Something was removed?
>As he marched along it slowly dawned on him what happened, and it made his eyes twitch in annoyance.
>Mindwiped. Again.
>Lont did not know what was "removed", and didn't press on the issue.
>Because by the sounds of it she did not wish to do it. He was just as bitter as her, being a victim of another mindwipe yet he did feel a pang of sympathy for the mare.
('I...Forgive you.')

>>371185
"Mercy?"
>The Operator muttered to himself, he was taken aback by her appearance here. It had been a hot minute since he last saw her.
>Seeing her through eyes other than his own was very odd yet he could tell she has been through the Ringer already.
('Okay.')
>He simply said, agreeing with the huffing and puffing white Pegasus that was certainly not in the mood to tolerate any passage.

>>371184
>Clemency, upon hearing about the various natural dangers of the Everfree, feels a bit glad he's put into a 16,000 strong formation
>Plus, he's a little amused with how the advance parties are meeting the local fauna and the operators talking about the...voices
("Too many things could cause it considering what we got at the Fortress. Again, we'll try to look into it...after a good sleep.")
>Speaking of which, Clemency shook his head for clarity
>It felt like he blanked out for a couple seconds
>It felt like a blind spot was put into his head
>Confused, he decides to let it be

>>371185
>Clemency hums to himself, trying to remember what the symbiote looked like before it attached
("Well it zoomed toward me as a sphere, turned into a bunch of guns before turning back into a sphere, took my shotgun, then she turned into Blackhorn.")
>As they were marching, he notices his entourage turning their heads to him
>He looks at everypony in turn
("Well, I do have a variety of enchants. That blood one was from that Vitriole Drake we killed, and a bunch is from relics. That one Construct piece you mentioned might be my Riftseeker plate.")
>The thought of being around an Enchained having an effect is a interesting
>But as the other Villagers said, the 'voice' phenomenon can't be from that
>Especially after he heard what the "rainbow" elemental enchant guy said
>Laying the matter to rest for now, he continues to keep pace with the march
>In the meantime, he takes not of the M-S.O.L.G's image
>Not too much is shown, cloud and fog obscuring most of the road
>Trying to adjust the camera, he finally gets a bead on the main host
>Deciding it's good enough, he leaves the image minimized and off to the side
>Hearing a snicker, Clemency was about to look around to the mares again until a report is hailed across the overherd
>"Mercy?"
>Haven't heard from her in a while
>Although, he did recall she was with a rookie pegasus
>But she was at the Arena when the Construct nonsense was happening
>He focuses with the leadmare and spots her
>He takes a good look at her since she's also supposed to have a symbiote as well but doesn't speak
>Her threat however brings some memories back
>For now, he keeps quiet and hopefully Jeff's plea makes her reconsider

>>371197
>The secret Hodch reveals is enonugh to make Pareidolia pause in his work.
(In truth, part of a grand contingency and a grim calculation. Now the context falls into place. That explains his skillset. Unclear where he found the impression humans hate acceptable losses. Human society is built and fueled by it in many forms, no matter the world.)
('I understand. I will when this equipment is finished.')

>Looking over the mental concept being presented to him in a semi-actualized form, he frowns.
(Miscalculation. The nature of electricity and gravity here is different to such a degree that design constraints are necessary. Anti-psionic performance has been overstated. Lack sufficient knowledge to apply more discriminatory methods. Best option would be to remove the property. Reduce the strain on the weapon's boundaries and improve performance.)
>Repeating the prior process of refinement, he modifies the idea to work towards a fully finished product while pondering the apparently late Storm King's words with some ambivalence.
(Unclear Class designation leaves me wary of agreeing with you. But it is clear there is some parallels in our scientific pursuit of truth. At least this concept provides some common ground.)

1d6+5]< Expert Small Arms + Skill Specializations (A.R.T) + Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]< Extra Roll Shifted GCS FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]< Expert Small Arms cont. + Skill Specializations (A.R.T) + Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]< Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Graduate Researcher + Skill Specialization (M.E.CC.T.)
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

>>371210
Missing roll:
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]

>>371119
"If I understood how paladine functions I might be able to extrapolate a why. Relevant information on it should be in my primary datacores, though...."
>Mini-Wild gives a tired-at-this-damned-world electronic sigh, rubbing the sides of her head on screen with both hands.
"Reaching them will be a nightmare. Not the Alicorn, mind you. I'll retain the plate and cube unless the pain of being aware that I'm aware of knowing I'm aware becomes too much to hoofle or handle. Or I need to scream. A lot. Loudly."
>Staring at you without a single indication of sarcasm.
"Mom, that was one second of exposure. If it has the value I think it does, I will.. attempt to contain it. Later."

>A ladder is scribbled from the chest compartment to the remains of her head, then quickly erased, her left hand reaching down, palm flat in front of the opening.
>Pausing as her outer self loses EVERYTHING, incoherently at that, the caricature's antennae flatten.
"I'll lift you up to check. Replacements are sixty percent complete."
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Sensory Node #2: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Sensory Node #3: Basic Engineering Study
[1d6+14 = (4+14) = 18] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20]
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (5+13) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (3+13) = 16]
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <RT-#8

>As her exterior screaming stops, the sole eye blinks.
"Finally. May have discovered the entity that's been fucking me over, I'll be looking for dissonant temporal-weave ripples near inhabited zones. Checking for local and regional movements-"
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensor Array
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Omni-Sensor Arrays: Long Range Scans
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>>371172
>Skeptically eyeing the discs, Helping reaches out for a cluster of nails from a tin can on the windowsill next to Krinza's anvil, then proceeds to stick them onto each one, testing five times each before inspecting magnetic differentials.
"I have studied numerous scenarios where our version proved to be most beneficial. Among those lessons learned from the Middle Equestrian Era was a consensus that civil affairs must remain unmarenaged. The version you speak of is best left behind. Such will not occur here."
>Nope, he knew.
>Gazing to his left, at Spiral's untouched tables and forgeworks you notice, the pale green unicorn's face contorts furiously for a split-second before placing the nails back.
"He understands the troubles and quandaries humans face. I do not and that wounds me. Canterlot Underground was merely an often quieter place where he could commit to study and experimarentation whenever the desire struck. They shared all without regard. However, here-"
>Shifting to sit facing southwards, Helping reaches his left front hoof out to tap the table's edge.
"Is Spiral's home. No other place did he consider comforting save the visits of those ponies that brought their joys to share with him. Which he never spoke to us of, perhaps for the best.
Regardless, in his own words, humans were more acceptable to him for reasons which no longer matter now. Those days and nights are behind us all. For that alone I consider Razorback my kin as well.
Forgive me if it sounds like I do not fully comprehend your troubles. In full honesty, I do not. Despite the difficulties of species and wholly different thought process barriers, I am beginning to understand his.. 'excessive' protective nature towards Razorback."
>Stilled for a bit, he removes the boxpack and sets it towards you, speaks in a quiet, somewhat insulted tone.
"I am unsatisfied with these results. My knowledge and capabilities are greatly wanting, but so far as they have allowed this is complete. We should wait for Krinza to return for a proper inspec-"
>Streaks of lambent colors flood in through the shut doors, coalescing into a fairly ragged looking Krinza behind his furnace, tossing a selection of brightly colored metallic bars behind his anvil with an expression of unparalleled hatred.
"Excellent timing. Would you examine this for me? I fear a number of mistakes were made. Are the materials sufficient?"
"Of course. Yes, they are much more pure than I expected. But the prices are worse than Lishanki robbery-"
>Taking two steps forwards to lean over the box for a sniff, spinning it around to inspect each side, thunking the sides, top, and seams, then tapping each magnetic disc, the grandmaster smith nods several times, visibly impressed.
"No major flaws, solid construction, excellent concussive resistance. Your melding skills require a bit of fine tuning: reduce temperature when joining magnetic to non-magnetic materials by a factor of point-two. The slides-"
>Pulling each drawer out to full extension, slamming them shut, Krinza repeats the process twenty more times rapidly, ears flicking in proud motions.
"No scraping, screeching, grinding, or flaking. Most excellent! Ivan, this will require either dry or heavy mineral lubricant each week or so. If I recall this correctly.. load the belts top section facing left and right, then I will try it on you."
>Horn lighting in dull silver patterns, the two ammunition belts are floated from the table behind you, coiled into the slideouts, top snaking over the bottom, shut, opened, repeated five more times, then finally closed.
>Unicorn OCD was good.. in some cases.
"One moment please-"
>Lifting the pack and rotating it around behind you, the magnetic discs thunk into the Exoskeleton's rear plating, which you don't even feel, then slides the ammunition drawers out, finding them to be easily accessible with either hand.
>Severe diagrams of arithmetic appearing above his head and brightening to sharp gold patterns, Krinza pulls the box off, holding it at short distance, which thunks back on again.
>Eyes squinting and glancing upwards, the yellow stallion's lips pull back in a thinly impressed smile.
"If these are indicative of her acquiremarent capabilities then I rescind all of my previous words.. except for two.
Ivan, you have full magnetic control over the system. Simply think 'remove', 'drop', or a similar term, or phrase, and it will do so. Unfortunately there are no more Float cores or Crystal Empire devices to prevent the box from landing. Likewise, there are no ponies with significant Gravity alignmarent or attunemarent in Razorback. At least that I know of."

>>371199
>Physically uncoiling, and subsequently brightening several degrees, the younger Crystal mare's lips curl back in an almost sinister, yet brutally earnest smile.
"A welcoming Dusk to you. May you feel the Night well. Starglow Remostrine, youngest of Naliyna Remostrine."
>While that was an honest greeting, the unusual responses held a number of specific disconnects that you couldn't place.

"José, huh? That's similar to a few Argentum's Lands naming conventions. The most common meaning is the ho-"
>Giving a loudly ringing snort, Shanis reclines into the couch, putting on a welcoming grin as she suppresses an obvious snickering fit, cheeks creasing in a few dozen degrees of deciousness.
"Let me just say you shouldn't use THAT part of your name unless you want to be aggressive approached by sexually eager mares, understood?"
>Dipping her head briefly, the winter suited mare pats her left hoof above the left flipper.
"You mean this incredibly soft and snuggly sweetheart?"
>The seal's head turns and lifts to regard you, a heart-burning warm smile breaks across the feminine face, whiskers twitching several times amusingly.
>Left flipper raising to hold in place, presumably for a proper greeting, an unusually young, sweetly toned voice rolls from the pinniped, speaking in perfect, unaccented Common.
"Hello Sehr Chosay. I'm Nao, formal Liasion for the Greater Polar Seal Colonies, that is, until I am asked to represent my species' return elsewhere. It is wonderful to meet you."

>Starglow bends forwards heavily on the couch, right forehoof over her mouth, almost as if trying to prevent herself from puking as she mutters in dimly cheerful notes.
"Every damn time.."

>>371213
"It sounds like a much more efficient version, I won't attempt to deny that."
>Ivan wouldn't participate in the system, but he couldn't deny it was a lot more appealing than Serfdom back home.
>Ivan didn't mind that Helping did not fully understand his experience, and envied him for such.
"It is probably for the best that you do not. The only ones who would, would have also gone through the same, or very similar experiences on their own worlds."
>Ivan would have said something about it looking good enough to him, but was silenced before he could begin by Krinza returning.
>Getting up to follow Krinza over, Ivan would watch as he methodically looked over Helping's work.
>He could appreciate a thorough inspection of his future gear by someone more experienced.
>Noting down 'heavy mineral/dry lubricant' on his PDA, he would put it away again to refocus on the two ponies.
"Weightless. Good."
>He'd twist his torso a bit after Krinza allowed the box to latch to his back again, checking his flexible he would be.
"That's a lot more useful than the potential of fumbling with hard to see straps in a firefight."

>>371214
>Trakkel was not exaggerating when it came to Starglow, it seems.
>Vague attempts at hypotheses came and went in José mind, ultiamtely leading him to be confused on what to take from it.
>For now, keep his interactions formal and short.
"Likewise, miss Remonstrine. José Gallo."
>Even while kneeling down in front of the cutest little creature he has seen yet, he exuded heightened elegance specifically for Starglow.
>She seems to like stoic gentlemen.
>Maybe.

>Once again, Gallo found himself grasping at straws as to what Shanis tried to warn him about.
"I will keep this in mind, miss Shanis. If you wish, you may call me mister Gallo instead."
>Now to focus on the biggest twist he couldn't have expected.
>An actual, honest to Celestia diplomatic asset harboring the body of the most diabetes-inducing creature he's seen so far.
>Giving Nao a gentle hold of his flipper for a bit, he couldn't help but to smile warmly and even let out a little chuckle.
"Greetings, miss Nao. My name's José Gallo. May I inquire further about your role as a liasion?"

>>371187
('No Tainted remain in the Central Moors, that I can assure us all.')
>Tasting rather than sensing a bitterly angered stare from a mid-40's Canterlotlian Day Guard mare in close proximity, the Overherd twitches at her harsh response.
('There are certainly some remaining in an Old location. Of course, Razorback knows nothing about that, do y-')
>Automatically silencing the mare, supporting thoughts, rebuttals, and dissenting voices, the Shieldmare's tone is cold.
('Enough. This is not the time or place. Your objections can be spoken later.')

>Pulling up the map and pinging the relay, a return match for positioning data shows as 12.9 miles straight.
>Inspecting newish and revised markers, the road had been laid outside the original pathway's route, displayed as 13.6 miles due to swamp crossing deviations.

('She was cut off from us earlier and is... refusing the opportunity to rejoin. Should I a-')
('Don't. You weren't in Basin to see the shitshow we saw first, it was really, REALLY bad.')
('Fillies... I'll tell her.')
>The forward Lancers and Chargers hold their position, Overherd ponies slowing behind them to a halt as the youngest pair frown, the oldest sighing marentally.
"Your name is Mercy, correct? I have several messages from Jeff of Razorback Company, he's at the formation's rear."
"It is, yes. Is he safe?"
"Untouched so far as we know, other than fatigued. Are you okay, and where is Sunny?"
>Taking a deep breath, the Spirit Walker stretches her wings out, lifting one forehoof, setting it down, then flexing out the second, physically intact... and seemed to be in peak performarence.
"I am unharmed. Bit tired, hungry, thirsty, but otherwise well. Sunny is following me, she should arrive in five to ten minutes."
"Understood. Jeff says we have discussed the possibility of either fighting the Planar Constructs, the Riftseeker, or neither, and wants to know what we should do."
>Rolling her front lips back to bite on carefully, the blind mare blinks slowly, then lifts her head northeast, legs spreading apart into a relaxed position.
"Return to Basin Village, the Riftseeker will be destroyed soon. The agreemarent I accepted requires that nopony or human approaches the vicinity of Basin Arena. Leave... please."
>Cutting the squad's forming questions off by her left wing shearing down, right wing reaching forwards, vibrating streaks of disturbed Ethereal and Void fractures occur in realspace around her.
>The Spirit Walker's physical form disrupts as she leans into a strictly offensive pose, crouching down slightly as her left foreleg raises.
>Left eye and wingblades flaring in bright pink, red, blue, yellow, and green hues, the right eye and blades swirl, spurned purple, blue, and black depths surrounding each.
"I cannot allow further deaths to tormarent me and I will not say this again: not a single individual is to take a step forwards. My honor will not be stomped upon for the fourth time this night. I am prepared to kill a hundred if not all of you to defend that. Choose, quickly."
[1d6 = 3] <Spectrum Dive: Opposing
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Auto-Resist
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Void Spectrum Rend: Preparation
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Ethereal Plane Rend: Preparation
[1d6+10 = (5+10) = 15] <Spectral Shatter: Preparation

>>371205
>Well out of sight farther ahead, short reports and flashes of Hunter-Killers streaming towards a hunting swarm are made, their Eldritch-tinged weapons causing less experienced Day and Watch Guard fits.
>Mostly out of fear, though a few were distinctly scared of potential corruption which the Lunars around them were quick to soothe.

('We can.. tell... ...yeah.')
('Ain't blind. Also ain't stuck up.')
('Don't be like that, he can fly! Not like Clem, but still damn cool.')
('What, you want wings too?')
('Nah, can't say I like pink much, but they look good on ya man!')
>Rolling her eyes, then regretting doing so at lather stinging the same, the leadmare marentally stomps on a variety of jibes, taunts, whistles, and marecalls throughout the lines.
('Debate the usefulness of crystalline wings much later, or to a Kingdom Shell. There was once hundreds, possibly thousands, in the pseudo-pegasus configuration, though I think they were rescinded in the middle 28,600's.')
('Few mares were so convincing, let alone profoundly insightful to future generations. As the future was, so shall the past has been.')

>Leaving the faux-cryptic commarent to quiet disagreemarents, the Assault Vanguard's commarender orders all front lines to halt, head cocking at the lead squad immediately takes several steps backwards at Mercy’s wholly unexpected threat, both the Shieldmare and Lancer leadstallion focusing on her.
('IS THIS SERIOUS!?')
('I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID MARES BUT DISENGAGE RIGHT NOW-')
(‘We haven’t done anything wrong or been aggressive in the slightest!’)
('Apparently she thinks otherwise, back off immediately.')
(‘What the fuck is she doing?!’)
('WE HAVEN'T ENGAGED, WHY IS SHE HOSTILE?!')
('She’s insane! Nopony can open a spectrum and Plane in conjunction!')
('Far be it from me to state otherwise but that is a method we have used in the past. Fairly difficult to achieve, in controlled circumstances, yet not impossible.’)
(‘I doubt her sanity is the issue at hoof in this instance, those rifts are quite real-')
(‘'Fuck’s sakes, tell her to stand down! We're not here to hurt or kill her, she’s an ally to us!’)
(‘She has spoken what is necessary and will not listen. A pegasi standing on her honor is, by all technicalities, absolute. A horrific death is preferable to dishonor and disgrace.’)
(‘Testing a mare’s resolve is not a worthwhile option if those fractures are intact as I believe them to be. The repercussions of Ethereals and deeper Void creatures being set loose to meet in a single location will be extreme, and long lasting.’)
(‘What do you expect us all to do then, march back to the Basin without killing the fucking thing we’re supposed to!?’)
('I expect little, and we expect nothing. While the convictions and feelings most of you hold right now are respected, those junctures are much too real to be mere bluffs. It is perhaps best that we do precisely what she has stated.’)
>Openly agreeing with the Shieldmare, the Vanguard's leadstallion glances up at his lance, then forwards, studying the variety of ponies, humans, and Minotaurs in range.
>Eyes shutting and releasing a tense sigh, the commarender draws the Overherd's back to him.
(‘These concerns are well founded and understood, but not.. necessarily positive. All ponies here accepted the summons to defend Basin Village against the largest known number of intact Tainted, well past the Lunar-Solar War’s end no less. Likewise, we accepted the potential consequence that all of us would die.
As the situation stands however, we are unprepared to take on a completely unknown, most likely flight capable Riftseeker. Nothing more than bare speculations on its weapons, armor, capabilities, size, and speed are known.
The majority are strictly close combatants. We have zero explosives remaining. Unicorn and Psion support is extremely limited, one to two minutes at maximum. There are no fliers remaining to achieve air superiority. And Razorback, including yourself, is profoundly exhausted.
This should not end in a suicide mission.’)
>Syncing together briefly, the leadstallion and leadmare return their focus to Mercy, holding perfectly still, then speak across the Overherd.
(‘We accept the following: her words are most likely inviolable, those rifts into the Void and Ethereal Plane do exist, she has stated the Riftseeker will be destroyed soon, and that we are not allowed one step forwards. We cannot in good faith reccomarend continuing this course of action.
But we are not tyrants, nor are we entitled to holding loyalty above honor, let alone self-preservation. As she has stated, choose quickly, but be warned of this much: we do not know what she does.’)
[1d6 = 6] <Solar Reaction
[1d6 = 2] <Lunar Reaction
[1d6 = 6] <Watch Guard Reaction
[1d6 = 3] <Councilierge Reaction
[1d6 = 4] <Razorback Reaction

>>371209
>Restoring the Overherd's full attention to examining their individual surroundings, the leadstallion sifts through reports from Luna's Villagers and Operators alike.
('Considering what has been shared I'm inclined to believe there are outside effects causing the unusual.. I hesitate to call them symptoms, but I don't know what other word to use, which have been experienced.')
>Pensively glancing through the Shieldmare's eyes at the lead Spireguard mare and Minor Ethereal Champion, his thoughts blacken.
('Can think of a few hundred questions to ask them, yet they don't seem to be in a typical talkative state like I'd expect. And they've been refusing contact other than requests, suggestions, and orders.
One would think the Empire's most esteemed forces and allies should be most concerned towards Razorback experiencing such bizarre circumstances.')

>Taking in cohesively offered information, the Overherd ponders on your words, each of the Razorback affiliated Lunar unicorns along with veteran and Elite Councilierge Assault Vanguards combining their raw knowledge.
('A bit odd. Certainly not unusual for a symbiote, weapon or otherwise. It had already shifted into the standard presymbiotic form before reaching Basin Village, so her intention, or intentions, are logically sound.
I would still like to know what the original object or component was, but since none know then it matters little in the long run. Which does make me wonder.. ah, nevermind.')
>Reaching a consensus after three seconds, the leadstallion frowns at a Striker's recall of the bright orange sphere's actions, shuffling that one to other Psions for later study, one of the older Lunar unicorns speaking matter-of-factly.
('The same creature you aided in killing.. Vitriole Drakes were a thoroughly Void-mutated subspecies which were able to retain both their poisons and toxins. They could occur from any Emerald Drake living throughout most of Moors, excluding the Crystal Moors of course. Most common in the Central, Crag, and Deep Moors region. Smaller numbers did exist throughout the Coastal, Outer, Tropical, beach, and unmapped regions. Rarely found in the Ferron claimed sections, however.
When it was discovered that Vitrioles could slip into Void spectrums effortlessly, Princess Luna ordered the entire Lunar Guard to search and wipe out both the original and mutated species to the last. Approximately thirty thousand Emerald and nine hundred Vitrioles were confirmed deceased.
Unfortunately, I did not study the full accounts and records of those efforts, but the fact that one Vitriole survived more than four hundred years does lend some credence to an older theory.
We have a saying in the Villages: fate does not enjoy striking twice. A tiny number of Void-mutated examples have been known to live far longer than the originating species, yet each were unique individuals that shared no commonalities.')
('Have any similar or potentially related creatures been located during the Moors Restoration Project?')
('None that we are aware of, from reports, records, accounts, or otherwise. As a matter of pure study and curiosity it is remarkable. As a matter of professional disgust, a Riftseeker taking that form is beyond abominable.')
('I... see. That is why.')
>Marentally blanking out at the object's mention, the leadstallion's eyes close, offering unspoken, quiet and conciliatory sensations directed towards you and Twisted Wing.
('My apologies. We will not bring up the matter again.')

>The five Assault Vanguards halt around you at the white mare's name, their Mind's Eyes staring at each other as the Solars, Lunars, and Stalliongradians likewise cease moving.
('Master Clemency, do you know her well?')
('Obviously. Question is, what do WE do?')
('Probably nothing.')
('PROBABLY? Explain.')
('Think about it this way: most of Razorback is afraid of her. She's volatile, reckless, and...')
('Go on.')
('Thoroughly nasty to deal with.')
('As in cruel? Mean? A bitch?')
('None of those. I'm not going to read into their thoughts more than this: humans REALLY don't want to deal with her when she's angry. Right now it's just the opposite. I think.')
('Rrrright...')
>Quickly forming and discarding questions as quickly as they were be made, the mares share a brief, starkly confused thought, shutting it aside while the three factions begin tallying their votes, relying on the Councilierge to keep track of numbers.

>All Solar and Watch Guard vote against continuing, a majority of Operators likewise decline.
>On the other end of the spectrums, exactly half of the Councilierge vote yes, the other half vote no, while the majority of Lunars vote to continue.
>Comparing the total numbers from both sides of the votes, the leadmare and leadstallion's Mind's Eyes stare towards each other.
>Exchanging short, condensed messages outside the Overherd for well over a minute, the pair's helmets shake negatively, refocusing onto Mercy, comfortably and steadily holding her pre-assault pose, the older Charger at the line's front speaking for them.
"The vast majority has come to a decision. We will turn around and leave immediately. But we need to ask one question, if you'll answer it."
"Ask."
"Are you positive that Riftseeker will be destroyed?"
>Releasing the Ethereal and Void tinges to her eyes, then wingblades, the Spirit Walker stands upright, ears cocked in thought.
>Snout wriggling several times before giving a confident, bizarrely slow nod.
"Yes, I am."
>Head lifting to blink at the hundreds of Mind's Eyes gazing at her, the white mare offers a flat, yet encouraging smile.
"Do not worry, I will return when it is.. dead."

>Turning about with her squad, the mare scowls in her helmet, motioning for the Overherd to leave.
('Lunars, Councilierge, Razorback.. I don't know what to tell you other than we are not prepared to piss with Ethereals and creatures from the Deep Void.
Good news is if we make for Basin Village like before we'll be there in three hours, should arrive before Dawn.')

>>371195
>Psuedo-leathery wings tilting up to slow his flight, the symbiote's right eye snaps around and on to you.
>Expressionlessly studying the container, then you, the ears flatten apprehensively, lips pulling back at the corners and front legs twitching, equine distaste visible.
>Head turning to survey the paired Hunter-Killers jolting north, the chest expands and contracts in a silent sigh, but makes a short, accepting nod in your direction.

>Returning to stare forwards, the batstallion's right wingclaws click together in the specific 'caution' sound, several large, dull green, brown, and gray scaled reptiles ahead on both sides of the road.
>Passing by, they were partially torn apart, the elongated, triangular head similar to an alligator crossed with a pitviper.
>The exposed teeth were thin needles, the body both angled and heavily muscled, considerably larger than an earth pony, and not a species you knew off hoof.
[1d6 = 6] <???
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>>371212
>I fully agreed with that sigh, Mini Wild.
>This place was bullshit and knew it.
"If I were back home, I'd consider the past twenty-four hours to be a nightmare, Wild."
>Of course, being mortared for two hours straight isn't a walk in the park either.

>I wait for her to stop having a fit, before getting up out of my seat and sticking my head out of the opening, glancing around as I climb out onto her hand.
>She.. definitely looked unique, I'll give her that.
>Never seen anything like her before.
"I don't know how long its going to take for me to get used to seeing you, Wild."

>>371221
>Catching the batstruct's expression at the You-put-WHAT-in-this-!? Flask, Sunny made a flat expression as she stowed it away again. It had probably just analyzed what it was made of, or the remnants of where the flask had recently been.
"Yeah, yeah, not my best decision. Happens to the best of us, but if it works it works."

>Sunny followed the batstruct's indication towards the lizards, she was careful to give them as wide a berth as she could without leaving the road. Slowing her pace and stepping with care so as not to provoke them.
>Though it was clear the Hunter-Killers had already done some provoking. Injured to such a degree, most animals would avoid further contact if not actively threatened so they could lick their wounds, or they would go into a rage at her passing and try to attack. Either or.
>She was still in the underdark, but the batstruct was not. At least it was flight capable, so unless they could spit acid it should be fine. Still.

[1d6+7 = (2+7) = 9] < M.Stealth + Kitty Catboots + Spider Silk Sneaking Suit
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]

[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] < E.Ambush + Ambusher
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]

>>371218
>>371219
>>371220
('I had a lovely luncheon with a Shell actually, before I got these wings.')
>That memory reminded Lont. He needed to tell someone of Tacit's importance, Luckys death and that the Conclaves wished to trade with Razorback. And more.
>There was so much to unload. To unpack and make it the burden of others.
>He sighed, wings and shoulders slumping. He was starting to feel the exhaustion catch up to him. Standing still has allowed the tiredness to creep up on him like a predator from the Moors.

>>371220
>Fingers drumming across his cradled Spiker, Lont glanced towards the Crystal Forces, eyes lingering on the Crystal Batponies that were still hidden from the rest of the army. Perhaps that is why they were so quiet. Not wanting to let slip that bombshell.
('The Crystal Empire is going through a turbulent moment currently, I assume they merely wish to get this task done and return home as quick as possible. No time for chitchat. Only reason I can think of.)
>It was probably -a- reason why they were quiet. But not the main one. Lont silently hoped this dissuaded any further speculation as to why they were so distant.

>>371218
>Jeff feels somewhat satisfied hearing the Central Moors no longer had any Tainted in it. Restoration or not, it must have been a weight off of the region's shoulders.
>He has no idea what the 'Old' area means. Maybe he knows it of another name. Either way it gets dropped, so he follows suit.

>Checking their distance away from the Basin Village, he realizes the effort Mercy had pulled off. Thirteen miles, trying to get back to the Village.
>No wonder she was so hell-bent...

>The lead mare passes along his concerns to Mercy. The conversation comes through the Overherd at the least.
>She was fine... said she was fine at least. Sunny was a hop and a skip behind her, he was glad about that. First job the greenhorn went on, and it ended up being one hell of a doozy.
>Her reply was to stand down and return to the Village. It sounded like some sort of agreement was made between her, Sunny, and the Planars going off of the warped Construct's struggle to try and indirectly communicate with him through his and Clem's tech.
>As long as the RIftseeker was going to be taken care of and the Planar's were going to fuck off afterward he was satisfied with the outcome.

>>371219
>>371220
>Before he can get anything else in, something happens up at the front.
>Mercy was getting hostile? He could see through the Mind's Eye she was she was putting on a defensive stance. She was preparing to open rifts into the Void and Ethereal planes to keep them from moving forward.
>She's committed, totally bent on them not continuing. If her honor was on the line, the WOULD try and fight them all over it.
>He wants to interject, but the factions start to panic and bicker on their options.
>Personally, if they didn't need to fight and can walk away he's more than fine with that if the situation will solve itself.
>Eventually it boils down to a vote. Each faction: Lunar, Solar, Councilerge, Watch, and Razorback start pooling their votes to decide on what to do.
>Obviously he mentally votes to yield to Mercy and leave. They were under-everything'd to deal with any enemy involved right now despite their numbers. Everyone was either physically exhausted, magically fried, or both.
>... the votes are mentally tallied, the final verdict is to side with Mercy. Much to his relief.
>As everyone agrees to pull out and begin the march back to the Village, Jeff addresses the leader that was directly talking to Mercy. He mindlessly dismisses the comments being made about the white pegasus, understanding the ways she does her own things.
('Wait. Before we leave, can you ask her if I can approach and speak with her privately? As my herd-second, I just want to confirm her well-being before we depart. If she refuses, then tell her to take care and I'll see her back at the Fortress when everything has been settled.')

>>371210
>>371211
>Placing the weapon down, bending over the anvil, it spreads open to reveal comfortable, recall-formed surfaces and means to continue the work.
>Taking control of the space... you feel actions turn sour, salty, bitter.
>Wrong spices added when they had no place, the better ones removed from their attractions.
>An emotionally recharging battery that didn't belong.
>Ceramic resistors that should've been free flowing conduits.
>Steel mesh cable instead of hyperconductive silver wire.
>Functional self-explaining analogues, the sequences equating themselves to concepts you could translate them as.

>Looking once more, it was damaged, modified out of anger.
>You surmise the intentions to be skewed: failing to remove a vital function from the weapon is unreasonable.
>It was electromagnetically joined to you as both humans and earth ponies were to their willingly conscious existences.
>Early irritations rise, held firmly in thoughts of insulting failures to cooperate, provoking inappropriate, misunderstood behaviors.
[1d50 = 17] <Planar Lightning: Critical Flaw
[1d50 = 21] <Planar Gravity: Critical Flaw
[1d50 = 8] <Planar Lightning: Severe Flaw
[1d50 = 10] <Planar Gravity: Severe Flaw
[1d50 = 4] <Planar Lightning: Major Flaw

>>371239
>Pareidolia's facial expression twinges in irritation as his engineering limitations make themselves known.
(Thought based engineering is beyond me. Engineering is beyond me. But operational demands insist on a functional answer. Need to retrace my logic and repeat until it achieves nominal functionality at least. Can't afford to fail here.)
>Sighing, he leans over the anvil and scrutinizes his work with tense shoulders and too tightly gripping gloves.
>Attempting to undo the damage and achieve his earlier stated level of performance, he once again would weave thoughts into form.

[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

>>371218
>>371219
>Watching through the Mind's Eye, Clem takes a good look at Mercy
>As far as the night has gone and her own issues, she seems like nothing has happened
>It only makes Clemency even more aware of his own fatigue, especially as he was now just standing around
>"If only I had something to lean on at least..."
>The feelings get overridden when he sees reality tear around Mercy
>Ethereal and Void energies
>He knows about these two but not much about the repercussions of opening both at the same time
>And he really doesn't want to find out after everything

>>371220
>Clemency looks around at the entourage
('Yeah, I know her well. Not to the extent that Jeff does.')
>Other than almost dying to her the first time they met
>Hearing the vote being called, he votes to turn around and go
>As gung-ho everyone is to fight this thing, it was going to be a suicide mission to do so
>Doubly so if we are going against Mercy
>And to his relief, the main host agrees too
('And just like that, it's over.')
>He looks over the main host, more specifically the Rookies and how they're handling it
>If they were smart, they'd be more than happy to go back home

>>371235
>Just as he was motioning for everyone to head back, he overhears Jeff
>He turns around trying to spot the operator
>The thought of him going to try to make sure she's fine is a little heart warming
>Reminds of of the time he was there for him and Twisted
('Hey, Jeff. What you say to her is your business, but I'll wait up for you.')

>>371240

[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]

>>371244

[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]

>>371215
"At the least remember that buying a pony is specifically intended to raise their position and status. Unicorns especially do not think well of calling others.. inferior."
>Standing to stretch out his rear legs, Helping deflates a bit as he tosses a subdued look at the numerous stacks of papers, binders, books, tomes, and manuals across the Workshop tables.
"I am greatly intrigued at how substantially differently human thought processes are from the sapients of this world. However... Spiral's writings do remind me there are depths which should not be explored."
>While performing a, hopeful, final check on both slideout drawers, Krinza lifts each belt out, extending them out to ensure you'd be able to reach easily, coiling the pair back with a satisfied nod.
"In technical terms it is not weightless, the Exoskeleton is unaffected by fifty or so pounds, thirty in the box itself plus thirty for two ammunition belts. Add a three gallon water jug, food for five days, vital equipment, supplies, additional munitions, spare explosives, other odds and ends, it should be able to hold at least three hundred pounds securely.
On the off chances you may need to haul that much around, the total weight will be an effective counterbalance to the M134's high recoil."

>Reaching near-complete torso motions that you would normally out of armor, the heavy plating across the Exo's center torso acted similar to hard synthetic rubber.
>Able to easily flex each hand down and around to grasp the armored drawer handles, then up and over to tap on the box's lid, slight resistance from the left elbow wasn't fully mimicking your own motions, though was easily compensated for.
>Likewise, a single mental command would drop the box behind you, and with the partially retracting magnetic straps be easily hiked over one shoulder back into position.

"That was the intended purpose. You now have ample storage space and enough armor to resist most weaponry. Human containers and flexible storage systems are quite poor. The 'one size fits all' approach does not function well, if ever. Lann has been correcting though the amount of orders has stacked up. Greatly."
"It is likewise heavily warded and shielded as per the same specifications of your Exoskeleton. I must say this is giving me some unusual ideas.. perhaps a smaller, semi-rigid variant for lighter metallic armors?"

>Exchanging spastic, unreadable diagrams of information between each other, both unicorns turn to stare at a loud CLICK from the minigun attempting to cycle but failing before it could feed.
"....Krinza."
"Yes?"
"I dislike it. I dislike the words, whining, demarending, and intentions. Most of all I dislike the constant, unceasing begging. How do I make that voice stop speaking?"
"Helping, if the rest of us are able to reasonably coexist with a Moor cat whom loves singing vulgar, lewd, and, in general, horribly out of pitch and tune Lunar marching songs every second she is awake, then you can ignore one slightly deranged recording. I believe that one is anime related though I have not seen it ponifally."
>Bringing the left forehoof up to press on his snout heavily, the larger unicorn speaks tensely.
"I am returning to the Alchemy Lab and hopefilly staying there. If I am unable to unfuck the complete mess there in two weeks, send a search party. If that search party does not find success in a month, take the Lab's walls apart. Should the second search party not succeed in a further three months.. take Spiral's lab apart."
>Tearing apart and leaving a trail of rings directly southwards, the grandmaster smith makes a too-late forgiving shrug, though with a snarky grin as he sits down on the anvil.
"Considering what I had been putting up with, that one is background chatter on low. Is there anything more I can assist you with?"

>>371217
>Eyebrows lifting and held for two seconds, the younger Crystal mare tilts her head right, speaking two short phrases in a thoroughly unusual, melodic language.
>..you didn't even know where to start trying to figure that one out, and it was highly doubtful humans could emulate the extremely rapid variable pitches, rolling tones, and singing linguistics properly.
>If at all.
>Emitting a short, low bass hum, a black pen is lifted and set to work scribbling on heavy paper.
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <E.Appraisal
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Bartering
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]

>Setting her head down on the couch's arm, or would that be a hoof rest? the winter suited mare's left wing makes a short apathetic flop.
"That's probably for the best. We have enough problems keeping every mare on the Isle from claiming a human, bunch of hormonal fillies..."
>Extending out a bit further, Nao's warm flipper was covered in a layer of ultra soft, silky hairs, underneath which was a thin layer of fat and solid, long bones, though five rather sharp, black claws make brief contact with your skin.
>Eyes squinting at your pronunciations, the seal's face squishes inwards a bit with a deep whisker twitch.
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <E.Research: Linguistics
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]
"Of course. I am allowed majority rights to trade sealants, glue, gems, weapons, and Polar or crystalline materials, or both, in exchange for aiding our newest Colony.
My primary assignmarents are to acquire long lasting heatstones or similar devices that will function in or out of water and trading equal weight amounts of sea food that are not available to us.
I am also expected to offer Missions dealing with snow, ice, water, or flying creatures that my Colony cannot reasonably take care of."
>Lifting her flipper again and waving it twice, the bright white pinneped's face creases amusingly, her words spoken in a consistently rolling cadence.
"Our preferred weapons are clubs, spears, lances, harpoons, and weighted nets. Since we do not have the physical capabilities for ranged combat, any crystalline devices, magical enchantmarents, items, relics, and artifacts which can be used underwater and are not faction bound are in high demarend."

>>371234
>Already giving orders for the rear most ranks to turn head towards Basin Village, most of the Veterans and Elites think aloud.
('Just ignore the wings.')
('I would but that might take effort.')
('Like you can spare any right now-')
('Better yet, when are we getting some gliders?')
('How about flying enchantments? Probably a lot cheaper.')
('Those are difficult to justify time and energies spent, as a result they're rarely produced outside of towns with a significant unicorn population. You may try cloud cities, yet I wouldn't advise that these days, too marely ripoffs.')
('What ab-')
('No.')
('Way to kill the mood, dude.')
('Interesting. Are Shells immortal?')
('Technically, no. Consciously, definitely not. Functionally is improbable as well. Crystalline Shells inevitably suffer from ennui and similar states of mind, similar to... other long lived states that I don't want to think about right now.
Once they believe their time is done or have accomplished an acceptable number of tasks, each picks a time and place to cease existing. Most often the Crystal City-State Labyrinth, the place they were born in, or a highly important, or holy, location is chosen.')
('Thaaaaat explains way more than I wanted, but.. thanks?')
('Do Shells actually eat Empire crystal? If they do then how's digestion work, or is it all crystal song-magic?')
>Feeling HIGHLY uncomfortable at Mind's Eye stares from thousands of inquiring ponies, the Veteran thinks better of his question.
('Mangoes, are they the best fruit or the worst?')
('Would yo-')
('No, it's a serious question.')

>Rotating around you to face east and waiting for the central lines to move once more, the five Assault Vanguard mares grumble halfheartedly, majorly displeased at being outvoted, though accepting the return wouldn't be too awful.
('We can still look for something to eat, right?')
('Knowing batponies, we're the ones that're going to be foraged...')
('What does that mean?')
('You'll.. find out soon enough.')
('No, I need to know what you're thinking!')
('Soon. Enough.')
('You're a pain.')
('Thanks, hard head.')

('What's harder to read than a Crystal pony? An angry Crystal pony that's not talking.')
>Giving up trying to determine moods from Conclavists, Kingdom adherents, Imperials, then frowning towards Spireguards, the leadstallion motions for the Operator he was escorting to remain temporarily as the rear line enters a slow march towards Basin Village.
('They certain don't look to be pleased in any possible ways, means, mareners, shapes, or forms in the least.. far more Late Dynasty weaponry, armors, and equipmarent than I was expecting.')
('Fairly normal stuff, like what we keep for extras. Most are in great shape too.')
('Hm. Too bad they don't have some of the rare pieces. Unless they want to talk I suggest leaving them alone. Time?')
('Three hours, plus or minus ten minutes. Are we still allowed t- ......I'm going to pretend I didn't see that.')
('See what?')
('Everypony, perform full armor checks prioritizing joints and gaps for leaves, twigs, sticks, rocks, small stones, or marbles, immediately after a batpony has come within twenty hooves of you.')
('The way you said those is so matter of fact I can't help but think you've experienced them. Twice each, right?')
('More than I care to remember right now, not that I kept count.')

>>371253
>Cheto's eyebrow raised in turn as Starglow started to do her thing with alien sounds and hidden scribbles.
>A part of him felt tested in some way but he wasn't sure how.
>Best not to fret too much about that.

"Thank you for the heads-up, miss Shanis."
>He promptly gave the titular pegasus mare a curt bow in tandem with his words of amicable appreciation.
>In fact, as a token of gratitude, he'd bestow her a nice boop on her snout as payment.
>Back to the little penniped, Gallo listened intently as his mind took notes on what this little guy was looking for.
>Argenta might have what Nao is looking for in terms of sea food, actually, but might as well inquire while she's still here.
>He also gauged her reaction to Shanis's snout being poked by a human finger, wondering how seals viewed this presumed pony gesture.
"May I ask what other liasions have been sent to meet the demands for the newest colony of the Greater Polar Seal Colonies, miss Nao? It seems like a big endeavor that needs contacts all around Tallus."
>Of course, such a big question might yield a big answer, so he had to pay all of his attention towards the cutie little patooie seal.
>This could be the start of great things.
>Hopefully.

>>371235
>Relaying the message forwards, the older mare gestures for her squad to about face as Mercy takes a deep breath, releasing it as a quiet, satisfied snort.
"As everypony can see I am unharmed, a bit winded, not yet tired. And rather.. I feel excellent at the momarent, am not e-"
>Lips tightening sharply, her right wing pulls forwards to graze the scar on her neck before looking up with a softening expression, head shaking in short, negative motions.
"Not now, there is little time remaining. I must return to Sunny but I will be on the Tower after returning-"
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <B.Auto-Stealth
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <E.Flight
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]

>Neutrally watching on the Spirit Walker makes a half-leap, swinging around in air and streaking off in heavy ripples, the leadstallion's eyebrows raise.
('Quite an opportunist. Ambusher for sure, fairly specialized. Assassin? ...no, skillset isn't even close.')
('Could be a hunter.')
('No trophies, enchantmarents, weapons aren't particularly destructive against most targets, not carrying much... and in that cloth armor? Doubtful. Mindset wouldn't be right either.')
('Erm, you two care to elaborate?')
('We can tell a pegasi's open moods fairly easily. Wasn't concerned, worried, afraid, scared, certainly not coerced or secretive. And those threats weren't entirely honest.')
('Didn't want to cause harm, hated the idea of starting another conflict, though was willing to make a.. somepony that isn't dead on their hooves, finish that thought for me-')
('She had been within the interdiction field's outermost layer until all matrice-gateways were closed, then made herself known before or after approach. A complicated series of deductions, yet the possibilities are fairly tangled.')
('Wait, what? Why?')
('To ensure her message, or messages, achieved the desired affects and effects.')
('Why wait instead of planning to show up when the gates closed?')
('Even if we had maintained the gateways to rush back through, perhaps six percent would have returned. Doing so would have well and truly burned out each unicorn to a severe extent, myself included. A warning to ensure that we all returned alive to Basin Village alive?')
('Perhaps a statemarent that our efforts are indeed unnecessary, or we should not take such a risk.')
('Or she had indeed been in flight to arrive two-point-six minutes after the last matrice-gateway closed. In this case the best answer may be none at all.')
('Plausible, yet I feel our questions to be irrelevant. As it is we should not speculate without further information. Nevertheless, an independent marecenary is not beholden to our codes of conduct or agreemarents, thus it is disrespectful, and improper, to pry further.')
('In that case, what should we do?')
('Precisely what she said, without exception. Hoof it mares, the quicker we all leave the fewer mangoes need to be retrieved from places you did not know existed-')
>Interjecting and leaving the Overherd to suffer from Lunar-aligned snickers, the Shieldmare imagines herself throwing a pillow large enough to cover the entire Moors.

>>371241
('Outvoted almost six to three, huh.')
('Too bad, but he's right.')
('Like usual.')
('Would've been nice to at least study the abomination.')
('There's always another one.')
('And that will be when, miss fortune teller?')
('Not a clue.')
>Somewhat deflated at their prospects diminished to zero, four of the five Councilierge mares step around in three-point, 180-degree turns, albeit not quickly, the youngest mare stares on for a half-second before about facing.
>Silverine-trimmed helmet tipping backwards, an impression of a grin and faint amusemarent occurs.
('Has really ni-')
('Stop that.')
('But th-')
('Quit it.')
('Just look a-')
('What part of cut that out are you ignoring, and for what purpose?')
('Why can't I appreciate a mare with gre-')
('Why can't you control yourself!? Here you are thinking.. what even are you thinking?')
('I am in way better control of myself than half of us, and I was looking at her wings. Pretty, glossy feathers and a full body color aren't common you know. Besides, who did I piss off to get assigned to this bunch of joykillers?')
('Who DIDN'T you..')

('Shieldmare, you can drop us, we have certain unfinished argumarents.')
('I'd say the same, but too tired. We'll start coordinating food and water in.')
('As shall we, if you do not mind.')
('Very well. Day, Night, and Lunar Guard releasing in three, two, one-')
>Disconnecting a little over seventy percent of the Overherd, the remaining Watch and Assault Vanguard express heavy relief at the greatly lessened pressures.
>Until the frontal Chargers and Lancers notice batponies in clusters sweeping down to deliver fruits two at a time, or in small satchels.
>Heads turning to stare, peculiar sensations from squinted, diamond-slitted eyes cause manes to bristle.. the first kek is heard.
>Then a snicker as a Lunar mareneuvers to pin a Watch mare behind two Day Guard.
>Realizing how utterly unaware most had been, the Shieldmare intones a short, barely serious offering-prayer for her kin.
('Ponies of Stalliongrad, there are far too few of you to resist their numbers, wiles, charms, and puns. All Creation shall remember your battles fondly.. because I most probably will not to be perfectly honest.
In fact, how marely of you have fully sealed armor?')
('If ONE so muchs as stick a piece of fruit in my helmet I'm going t-')
>Sniffing in her enclosed helmet, a small rock bounces off an Assault Vanguard's saddle, then another's helmet, the mares twitching.
('..you knew this was going to happen, didn't you.')
('Yes. And there is not a single thing any of you can do to prevent the, ah... what are they called?')
('Foalnadoes?')
('No, the other one.')
('The Shuffle?')
('Not quite, something about edible glue and leaves?')
('I think you mean-')
>Smelling before seeing the incoming threat, the leadstallion stallion sighs while a mare's snout mask ahead of him is covered in berry jam.
('This one doesn't have a name that I know of. Did anypony happen to bring toast?')
('I hate you.')
('Is that a no?')
('...I hate you. So much.')

>>371252
"I don't imagine I would ever be in the position of needing to... purchase, anyone. But I will keep this in mind."
>He's going to forget.
"I imagine we're vastly different due to most human origins being single sapience worlds, like mine."
>He thinks for a moment, before shrugging.
"Something to idly look into, I imagine."
>Ivan watched to make sure he could as well, nodding a bit and copying Krinza with both sides, testing his own flexibility to confirm.
"The only new weight I'd have had to get used to would have been the minigun, and with an Exoskeleton that would've been trivial."
>To be weak in the Zone meant death. Most STALKERs carried over a hundred pounds on a regular basis.

"Most humans tend to consider it 'One Size Fits Most' instead of all, purely for the fact that people are never a uniform size."
>Unless they're clones.
>Though he knows clones don't exist in his world.

>Ivan would twitch at the almost deafening CLICK coming from the minigun, hand instinctively slapping his thigh where a holster would be, before coming back to his senses.
>Letting out a grunt, mostly to himself, he'd make his way over to the minigun, placing a hand on it.
"I don't know, it gives it character."
>Though he doesn't know rightly if it was 'anime related' or not, he's never seen one.
>Or he doesn't believe he has.
"At this time, I don't believe so. Aside from additional straps and storage pouches, but I have more than enough in my quarters to go about placing them on the armor."
>He took his helmet off, giving the pony a weary, but friendly grin.
"I appreciate how quickly you two were able to get this hammered out for me. It would take years back home for something of this quality, I expect."

>>371245
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]

>>371226
>Ears flicking out of sync in 'don't want to be here right now' motions, the Construct's snout performs a hard scrunch.
>Flapping upwards several meters and slowing into a pre-diving state, the particle cannons aim downwards and ahead of you, unmistakable preheat cycles sizzling the humid air.
[1d6 = 1] <???
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>Skipping into the heavier Void spectrums mid-stride, the nine reptilians were unmoving, recently killed and left where they were as you weave through them.
>Not without a few successful strikes of their own though, sharp tangs of equine blood in the air are scented from unusually wide half-oval claws, terminating in sharply curved ends, spread out in shock deaths.
>Wide brown and black speckled eyes glazing above needle teeth coated in red, rigor mortis setting in the four squat legs of each.

>Retaking the protective slightly ahead and left escort formation for half a minute, the symbiote's head rears briefly, right wingclaws flicking in common 'ally' motions.
>Roiling from the heavier spectrums ahead precedes Mercy exiting into the same as yours, twisting left as her wings buffet hard into a full stop, hanging two hooves above stone.
>A smile of unfiltered joy crosses the blind mare's face, the batstallion carrying the same as she lands, flicking her wings out to shake water off.
>Facing you, then gazing past for five seconds, Mercy tilts her head backwards, speaking in muted tones.
"Sunny, the remaining defenders are alive and well that I could see. They are returning to Basin Village, but I would ask that you return with him-"
>Sharing an unknown expression between each other, Mercy flips her outermost right primary wingblade from her saddle, the neat circle of armor still missing, to yours.
"But not in his current state. He can counter gravity approximately an eighth more than his own weight and does not pose a danger to you. If that is not acceptable then I could bring down enough of a cloud to be pulled.
And, no, I cannot hide you without full acclimation. That will take weeks, possibly months to teach you the proper methods.. if it is even possible."
>The symbiote's lips pull back in minor disgruntlemarent, but nods, shaking out both wings in figurative acceptance.

>>371223
"How can you be sure this isn't a nightmare?"
>Placing the map on screen, then wiggling out from behind it to stare up, the internal version's eye blanks into solid red.
"How can I be sure? Theoretically, I know that I exist, but what is real? What isn't? What can't be? What should? If something isn't real but can be physically felt, is it unreal? Disreal? Magic and energy are real in a technical sense, they can produce temporary semi-state objects. Does that mean I'm the sum of what isn't, minus what is?"
>Yep, she definitely needed a break..

>Outside was little more than burned out or missing trees above the sand line, variable sized piles of gray below them, and small, cloudy waves tainting what was probably the most pure beach imaginable.
>Stepping out onto slightly creaking steel sheets making a finger, then carefully maneuvering to the palm's center, Wild's speakers sigh.
"I know how I felt a minute ago. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. An hour.. don't know how to categorize any of this yet."
>Wrist tilting up, then elbow raising with two grinding noises, as you face the Eldritch-Android's external body, the extent of damage was sobering:
>What had been her 'head' was a ruined heap of heat deformed, thin metals in colors that were definitely not good, protrusions which were once supports, wires and cables of black semi-organic mass ending in charred sections.
>Below that her chest armor featured a massive dent left of center, both of her assets featuring the same discolorations, except where hard plating and sheets had been force-melded into place below them before the exit panels were sealed prior to the underwater walk.. some of the Rilvenni's teeth were still stuck.
>The right arm's interior cabin at the shoulder was currently filled with a variety of materials, while the lower exterior was entirely crumpled, armor barely recognizable except as small fractures, below the elbow an utterly twisted mess though the hand was functional.
>Mostly.
>Only her left forearm had suffered damage, thin sheets buckled where the Rilvenni's tentacles had gripped, but was in far better shape that the opposite.
>From what you figured was her waist down appeared to be functional, though badly heat discolored, a number of black cables sparking outside of seams.

"So... how do I look? Can't view myself except from the repair modules. They don't have good resolution either and knowing where each component is.. different."
>External speakers on low, the eight tendrils shear off sections of what you hoped was steel or better from a corroded piece of something, then drag their plates into fissures, bright red emitting from within.
"Life is suffering. And I don't know what life is. I know suffering better than everything else because WHY WOULD I NOT.
Replacing left leg motivation systems-"
>At least she was using a lower pitched outdoor voice.
[1d6+14 = (2+14) = 16] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (2+13) = 15]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
[1d6+20 = (5+20) = 25] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <RT-#8

>>371260
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (1+1) = 2]

>>371332
>Sunny cast a wary eye about for more reptiles, these were dead, but that didn't mean more couldn't be nearby.

[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] < B.Wilderness Survival
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]

>With rigor mortis setting in, these must have been killed quite some time ago. There was a good chance it would lure in scavengers, and those would attract more predatorial creatures.
>Sunny frowned, she could not discern any reason to kill these beyond keeping the roads clear, and yet it didn't make sense to simply slaughter them, and then leave their bodies to rot. What were they thinking?
>This mystery wasn't strictly relevant, but she couldn't stop herself from puzzling over it regardless.

>Coming to a complete, skittering stop. Sunny looked up at Mercy, her sudden appearance coming as a shock.
>That was incredibly fast, it had barely been a few minutes. She'd been using one of the lower weight spectra to fly by, but she'd still expected it to take some time to escape the interference.
"Mercy, you-"
>What? She made them go back and now Mercy wanted her to go back with the symbiote?
"While you do what? Go fight a Riftseeker? That's not happening, what do you imagine you'll even accomplish without this one?"
>Sunny gestured to the symbiote, then glanced up looking for a suitable cloud. Hopefully one that didn't look like it was busy.
"Try bringing a cloud down, then we'll head back to Basin Village, you included."

>>371334
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E. Small Arms + SS
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Extra Roll Master FINA
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E. Small Arms + SGSC FINA
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Extra Roll SGSC FINA
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]< Graduate Researcher + SS
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]< Observer Advanced Technological Weaponry & Tactics
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]< Pupil Post-Space Age Technologies
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]< Pupil Post-Space Age Weaponry
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]< Pupil Planar Lightning Modifications
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]< Pupil Elemental Plane of Lightning
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6]
[1d6 = 1]< Amateur Conceptual Lightning Plane Objective Creation
[1d6 = 3]< Amateur Lightning Elementals

>>371335
>Glancing back to study the deceased creatures with some care, then the surrounding swamps, bogs, and flora in view, they had been killed within the past three to four minutes.
>Unlike avians, mammals, or various hybrids, reptiles had far smaller fat reserves yet varying neural responsiveness depending on temperatures; upon death, warm and hot reptiles would suffer from rigor mortis far quicker.
>Testing the local temperature with a quick hoof tap, feather flick, and snout wiggle, it was currently 101 degrees in approximately 95% humidity, well within range of the previous estimates.
>Glancing about to check for predators, especially potential local swarms, there were no indications of anything more than tiny omnivores or scavengers on approach.
>Which happened to be a few water-skimming insects, several tiny mantidae-likes, and a single snake.
>On second glance, that last one was more of a stupidly tiny wyrm, six sets of miniature, dark blue-green fins gently propelling it on the water's surface, the green-black-blue snakelike head twisting about in search of predators.
>Rather cute, compared to Neighsian varieties, if it wasn't similar.
>It was a long distant descendant, but which region was speculative.

"No? That is not what I agreed to. It was not more than twenty minutes ago. Did you.. not hear what they said?"
>Muzzle pulling back in a severe frown, Mercy blinks at her paired symbiote, left hoof raising and right leg tensing in awkward social apprehension.
"Sunny, we secured releasing an equivalent weight of sapients from the Argus Behemoth-Destoyer pair, but I must return. They expect me to fulfill the non-sapient trade obligations that I agreed to. They were offering their collection.. rather, their 'museum' to us, which you were not interested in."
>Batpony wings lifting high above, coiled down to his barrel, then outwards in rapid motions you didn't understand, the Construct lands with barely a sound.
>Checking you up and down quickly, orange eyebrows furrow together, both lips pursing as it glances from you to Mercy, then back again.
>The Construct symbiote points to the blind mare, making a large, round swipe, clutching both wings across the barrel, then makes a tiny hop, Mercy's face creasing in hard thought before facing you in subdued confusion.
"That is... what I meant to say? I did say it. No, I did. ....it is not the same? I apologize, it is not easy for me to explain my thoughts.. I am not doing marentally well right now, the.. nevermind.
Sunny, we convinced the Argus Behemoth-Destroyer pair to release the same amount of weight, in sapients, equivalent to the Riftseeker's own approximate weight. Please state you remember that much."
>Glancing at the banks of mist, fog, then clouds above, the Spirit Walker's snout twitches, taking a hard leap upwards, calling behind her.
"Will return shortly with the best one-"
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <E.Flight
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]

>Facehoofing itself, the symbiote's lips form soundless words, letting go after eight seconds, head swiveling around in active threat detection.
[1d6 = 5] <???
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Construct Realscape Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>>371337
>Watching the tiny wyrm swim along with a smile, Sunny listened to Mercy.
>It appears she wasn't clear, or that Mercy, herself, or the destroyers had misunderstood or miscommunicated the terms of their deal.
"Mercy, we struck a deal for non-interference with their directive, which is to destroy the Riftseeker. Unless they managed to do it very quietly while we were gone, they haven't done it yet. They were very clear about us ceasing our actions and leaving them to their task. If you go back before they've done what they came to do, they might view that as you violating the agreement, not fulfilling it."
>Though if they did end up destroying it, they might go back on the deal since it wouldn't be in their best interest to honour it with their directive fulfilled. So Mercy might think that having them fulfill their end first would be best, while she was content allowing them to hold the fulfillment of their end as a deterrent against interference.
>She sighed.
"I think it would be best if we let them hold their end of the deal as insurance that we won't interfere until they're done. Further, we don't want to be around while they're fighting it anyway, you might be willing to, but as it happens, you're one of Razorback's few assets with capabilities against certain threats, I can't allow you to risk yourself if you don't have to or I wouldn't be doing my job. Either we all go back to Basin Village and wait for them to be done or we all go back to the Arena so that at the very least-"
>She nodded towards the Symbiote.
"You have him."

>She nodded and watched Mercy go up for a cloud, then turned to the Symbiote, raising an eyebrow at its facehoof.
"What? You want her going back alone when a Riftseeker could be set loose at any moment? I'm doing you a favour here. She might be confident the destroyers can deal with the Riftseeker, I'm not nearly as certain. Anything could happen and I would prefer to err on the side of caution. She's safer with you, not without, and you know it."

>>371256
>Scrunching mareily at the contact, her snout was indeed warm, almost hot to the touch, giving you a heartfelt smile of acknowledgemarent.
"Don't worry about it. I've been lenient for the past few months though it's getting harder telling my ponies to stop bringing humans into their herd. Half my brother's Arcane Blades are pushing for mareriages right now. Don't know if they'll listen to him or me at this point."
>Left wing raising to poke at her neck, Shanis turns a raw, visibly irritated expression downwards.
"What I'm trying to say is this: some ponies have an incredible appetite for emotional connection that humans simply aren't capable of understanding. In short, that means some humans get taken advantage of, whether for sex, simple physical contact, gratifying emotional responses, physiological dependencies, or marental dependency. Or a mixture of all those."

>Waving her left flipper in a carefree motion, Nao's face crinkles bemusedly.
"For the momarent we are only allowed to deal with the four historically vital greater factions that our ancestral Colonies preferred. Razorback Company is the.. ninth Lunar Protectorate? I think. Miss Shanis has assured me that Razorback Company is capable of aiding us, similar to Independant factions during the Middle Dynasty Era could. When they have time and resources to spare, that is."
>Curling the same flipper around to scratch under her chin, small claws extend, then contract, the seal's forward body lifts in a possible shrug.
"Fip, one of my distant cousins in another Colony, may have accepted becoming a Liasion. I do not know for sure as I have not spoken to him in three years. Or more. We do not normally speak to family outside of our Colony unless meeting for informal or formal relations."

>>371340
>José paused at Shanis's words, still smiling in satisfaction at seeing her appreciation for his gesture, but losing his focus.
"How extreme is this desire you speak of? Is it akin to sticking by the human every second while intentionally trying to get them to react to their every action irregardless of how they feel about their attempts?"
>Granted, she already said it was imcprehensible for his kind, but if he was meant to be a diplomat, he'd at least need to take a crack at it.
>Human/Pony Relations are important!

>Gallo picked up Nao's mild bemusemarent, causing him to softly tilt his head.
>She didn't exactly seem to be uncomfortable regarding the questions, but he'd hate to sour what seemed to be a nice time.
>However, the human needed to know one thing more before he could veer into fun topics.
"Are any of these greater factions Argenta by any chance?"
>A tentative smile lingered on his lips whilst the pinniped answered.
>However, part of him told himself to keep it cool.
>Don't start imagining grand things coming from whatever she answers.
>It's important to keep oneself grounded and not let ambition cloud one's view.
>That's a human thing.

>Whatever Nao replied, Gallo would soon brightened up slightly and decided to get more personal.
"I'm sure a kind hearted seal like yourself keeps family matters close to the chest. Forgive my curiosity, but how is the life of the common seal in the Colonies?"

>>371338
>Finding no predators in the vicinity and clearly not regarding equines and Construct as competitors or threats, the extra-tiny wyrm continues gliding towards the deceased reptiles.
>It was probably stealthy out of choice rather than size.

>Head cocking in stark puzzlemarent, Mercy flicks her left wing out before fanning it, then the other, frowning at water rolling off her feathers.
"Yes, we did that. Ceasing hostile actions which would be detrimarental to their attempts at containing and inevitably engaging a Riftseeker at a specific time and location. I was able to trade the assurance of a time table for an exchange of non-organics before they engage the Riftseeker itself."
>Wings tightening in slow, controlled reflex, the blind mare's head snaps away, releasing a sharp exhale.
"They did not exclude the possibility of mere observation, nor I will risk his cognizance, knowledge, and importance. That will not change and you have no right to tell me what I should do, there i- ...nevermind. You do not understand."

>Taking a loose at-ready stance, both sets of wingclaws open, gazing towards the south, then east.
>Head swiveling around to stare at you, the expression read as harshly offended, though there was a distinct secondary mood.
>Anger.
>Eyes narrowing briefly, a single tiny overlay forms above his head, the first made of three hard, tilted slashes, then an octagon of batpony claws, ending in a period.
No.
>Artificial mane shaking out in an insulted fashion, the symbiote continues its vigil.
[1d6 = 1] <???
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Construct Realspace Scanning Protocols
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]

>Heavy wing flaps above are followed by a large chunk of solid white cloud smacking onto stone five meters ahead of you, large enough to be a double bed, or possibly something bigger.
>Wingblades rolling, Mercy places her right forehoof in the center, crouching down to slice out a long pair of streamers.
>Tossing the ends towards the Construct, wingclaws reaching up to catch them and wrap around the particle cannons, she turns a severely insulted gaze towards, but not directly at you.
"Your 'duties' are not to safeguard me, and I am not planning on conflict."
>Flicking a smile towards the Construct, she leaps up, breaching into the deeper Voids as the batstallion takes several steps forwards, testing the confusing material.
[1d6 = 5] <Spectrum Dive
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <E.Flight
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]

>>371362
>Sunny gave Mercy a very neutral, un-emotive stare, she supposed this had to be expected, Mercy wasn't exactly known for being sociable, nor was she.
"You're taking more offense to this than you need to. I'm not saying you can't go back, I'm simply saying you shouldn't go back alone. In case you'd forgotten, this started out as a simple search and clear, nearly everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. That's not insulation against anything else going wrong."
>She stepped forward and prodded gently at the cloud Mercy had brought down. That had been a rough landing, clouds needed a more gentle touch than that. Sunny poked and nudged and patted with wings, hooves and nose, testing the cloud raft's integrity to be sure it wouldn't drift apart, and to be sure it wasn't wild and angry.

[1d6 = 4] < B.Cloud Shaping
[1d6 = 5]

"My contract is to scout for Razorback, so if you wish to speak of duties, mine lay in that direction regardless. Aside from that, I have to preserve Razorback, which includes the two of you. It's the same reason I prevented you from killing the lunar councilmare earlier, and the same reason I advocated for sparing the lunar vampires when it seemed that she would kill them for no good reason. I have no choice in the matter, so if you're going back to the arena, I am going with you and that's all."
>She gave Mercy and the symbiote a dry look, but an amused lilt in her voice.
"And if that's an issue for you, we could try beating each other up again, but that would solve very little and leave one of us beaten and bloody. So if you're both done being offended because I dared have the audacity to not leave you behind, we should get going. I'll leave the direction up to you."

>>371259
"Certainly possible based on the functional, and dysfunctional, levels of each human society, but I know enough to state that I do not know enough. Perhaps later I will ask a few for their opinions on whether such study may be useful."
>Letting that topic go, Helping glances to Krinza, whom looks up with a humored nod.
"That is why we are here. Adjustments and adjustmarents are always necessary, particularly when there is no stable technological base to utilize.
Admittedly, Lann enjoys working so much that she took Razorback's contract for half. The commissions from Basin Village occupied her for two, rarely three, hours per night. Boredom is more easily conquered with friends around, yet there are plenty of times one can simply sit and stare at one of their works for hours, never feeling it is quite right, even if it is functional."

>More than capable enough to reach the drawers, the handles were enchantment locked to you on mental command, which was.. not all that surprising.
>Further testing the Exoskeleton's features, you find that touching the tops of both boots was possible, though reaching the floor would require either a bit more flexibility or a healthier sleeping routine.

>Side eyeing the weapon in sincere amusemarent for a bit, Krinza chuckles dryly.
"I would not suggest melting the barrels under sustained fire such as it desires, but that may prove difficult."
>Eyebrows raising at the massive coldstone above as it shuts down, the chunky stallion frowns.
"Again? ...perhaps I should have stress tested it first-"
>Shrugging it off, a small, metallic red painted cloth is teleported onto the table in front of you, sounding like heavy wooden discs inside.
"Use these. Stabilized semi-artificial magnets. Exceptional heat resistance, they do not lose their magnetic field due to temperature, Gravity or Lightning Elemarentals, and most other effects that we have tested. There are... at least two hundred more around here, if I can find them.
Inside each box is a pair, one with west polarity, one east. Technically it would be best to synchronize them, but I believe you understand that process by now. They will lock on to a specific metal or metallic alloy in the same method you would utilize to activate an enchantmarent. Unfortunately they do not work well with magical composites, however."
>Left forehoof raised to his chest, Krinza offers a short bow, returning the grin.
"You are most welcome Ivan, though we do have numerous centuries worth of knowledge to draw upon. Titanium is not commonly used as it does not retain enchantmarents well unless molecularly aligned in a proper state, which was done fairly well.
Satisfaction when rightfilly earned is both a scholarly and technical pleasure, yet I suspect Helping acknowledges gratification differently. His preference for alchemy and related is well known but I do not think he acknowledges the extraneous skills he possesses.
If you would excuse me, there is..."
>Turning to eye probably piles of damaged, recovered, in progress, and poorly designed close combat weapons, along with a few polearms, clumsily stacked against the east wall, the grandmaster smith rubs both sides of his head with a small, pink cloud.
"That mess to sort out. I suppose finishing twenty of them tonight might not be too difficult.."

>>371341
"On a scale from one to one hundred? Everywhere from eighty to two hundred. Humans are-"
>Pausing to think of a word, it takes the visibly older mare ten seconds, laying her head down with a quarter-hearted snort.
"Exotic to certain types of ponies. Different species, physical characteristics, preferences, necessary diet, thought patterns, beliefs, courtship, ideas on sex, etcetera to infinity.
As for the second part, no, it's not attention seeking behavior, it's.. equine herd behavior. Which I'm doing my best not to think about, hopefilly all throughout tonight."

>Returning the flipper onto her side, Nao's eyes squint in visible thought before frowning.
"I did not ask. It is probable, but I do not know for sure. Thirteen centuries prior to now the Colonies that were most in contact with Argenta were: Frost, Ice, Crystal, Swamp, Tropical, Beach, Jungle, and Oceanic.
The Colonies which possibly had contact were: Lava, Inland Shore, Lunar, Solar, and Neighsian.
The Colonies which likely did not have contact were: Archipelago, Continental, Mountain, Great, Lava, Divides, Cave, Plains, and High Peak."
>Shifting back into Shanis' barrel, presumably for greater comfort, or most likely to share warmth, the seal's whiskers twitch as she smiles, clearly amused.
"Normally we wake up, stretch, get a drink, or eat snow, visit with family and friends, dive for food, then roam around until we feel sleepy or find an interesting object. After that we either nap or bring the object back to the Colony, get a drink, or eat snow, visit again, dive, visit once more, then sleep again."
>Reaching up to scratch her cheek with small claws, her flipper waves in what was probably a dismissing motion.
"There are always new friends and interesting objects in each Colony. One could easily state we have simple, yet highly comfortable lives for the most part."
>Forelegs tightening around the pinniped briefly, Shanis grins, her eyes closed and ears splayed out.
"Incredibly snuggly ones with endless varieties of seafood."
"The fish are excellent this time of year, but there are also squid."
"Squid is.. a seafood though."
"Not when they are a snack. A sealweed snack to use the precise termology."
>Snickering at the deadpan matter-of-fact check, the pegasus rolls her ears around, sliding her chin to rest on Nao's forehead.
"And absolutely adorable."

>Barely keeping herself together, THAT PUN WAS INTENTIONAL! or so reads a small billboard Starglow decides to find another page upon which her discontent could be expended..
>Angrily.
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <E.Appraisal
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Bartering
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>>371366
"Ah. Forgive me if I have made you uncomfortable with my questions, miss Shanis, and thank you for your answers."
>With a final curt nod, José gave the pegasus a thankful smile and left such delicate matters rest for the foreseeable future.
>Only whatever deities reside in this world can hope to understand the amount of restraint she had to deal while discussing such things.

>Silently jotting down the various seal Colonies in his mind, Gallo smiled happily at listening the daily life of a pinniped.
"A rather quaint lifestyle to be sure. I sometimes wish humans could dive with a seal's elegance and grace."
>Deciding to test the waters a little bit, the tip of his finger would soon near Nao's snout, yet it didn't straight up boop her.
"Although having these may be enough of a consolation prize. What do you think, miss Nao?"

>Eyebrows raising, José soon glanced over at Starglow's latest attempt at calming herself down.
>He wondered what was her deal at present.
>It couldn't be something as simple as hearing 'sealweed' said unironically, right?
>There must be something deeper than that.

>>371365
>Exhaling as he hefts the now acceptable and as of yet unnamed weapon, he flexes his fingers around the grip.
(Awareness of time spent addressing errors, but the only thing noticeable is the lack of fatigue. Nature of this plane must be conducive to far more intuition based methods of creation...)
>Testing the linked and manifestation properties of his creation, he flips it into the air before willing it out of existence and then back into his waiting hand.
>His fingers maintaining their shape as if still holding the weapon to see if it would reappear in perfect position.
>He would then alternate between crouching, standing, and laying prone while testing its manifestation speed, where he could make it appear, and how accurately it would do so.

(...A satisfactory extension of my will. Speed and accuracy at the rate of thought. Will need to reference other sources for possible methods of altering or removing the anti-Psionic property.)

>Turning and surveying the room, he notes its current state with the pelt being occupied.
>Nodding to himself at nothing seeming out of place, he steps away from the Forge.
>Curiously the bed was left vacant.
>Making his way towards the bed, he experimentally attempts to apply the same principles of alteration to its form.
(If all constituent matter is subject to the same rules, forming a contour pillow and sheets should be possible...)

>>371234
>>371241
>>371254
>>371257
>>371258
>>371274
>Pooling their knowledge together, the Shieldmare, aided by all but a few Councilierge, carefully disentangle Razorback, one by one, to prevent dissociative feedback and potential psychoses from the Overherd's synchronicity.
>Freed from the constant, sharp flows of information, most of which was inaccessible by non-Tallus mindscapes, Operators report in by squad.
>When the final all clear is given, one Lunar unicorn attaches to each Assault Vanguard squad, offering to carry equipment if requested.

>Majority resentmarent and distrust from a majority of Solars settle, forming into the outer Watch Guard ranks, greeting their distant kin anew while simultaneously turning scorn and hate filled stares against Razorback.
>The disaster in New Canterlot would not be forgotten or forgiven.
>Stalliongrad's mares were, for now, merely annoyed at the Otherworld presences in close proximity, doing their best to ignore radio chatter.

>Taciturn and unyielding during the march back, the Crystal Empire, Kingdom, Conclave, and Minotaur allies maintain their distance, utilizing their offensive capabilities in cover of outer ranks at every opportunity.
>Only Minor Champion Vokreed and the crystal-unicorn Spireguard leadmare provide more than a few tense words from time to time, keeping her selective companeigh as something of a symbol.

>Constant air drops and flybys of fresh berries, fruit, roots, and stuffed leaf sandwiches brighten the hungry marchers, accompaneighed with freshly roasted or grilled shrimp and small fish to Razorback.
>Few of the batponies were interested in doing more than a prank or two before leaving, while Hunter-Killers became a constant presence, interdicting the few Central Moors threats that tried to approach, dispatching those that did, and terrifying the remainder into fleeing.

>Tensions somewhat ease during the comfortable marching pace, mares from the rear overtaking the front quickly and assuming their scouting roles once more.
>Reaching the widening out road leading into Basin Village, front squads report back that the Rime cluster had been removed, surprisingly small amounts of crystalline taint and Plasma corruption remained in the vicinity.
>Passing over the locations where the XL Void infused bomb had landed, then the M-S.O.L.G.'s launched rods, where the Dagor had impacted Tainted, finally the craters in front of Basin, they had been mostly repaired, though poorly.
>Arriving at the south entrance, the wall of lances and spears was now arranged as an impassable line, dozens of brightly colored streamers, ribbons, sashes, bands, and charms adorning each one.
>Steadfastly ignoring the returnees, hundreds of batponies from across the Greater Moors stuck to any surface they could, wingclaws carving in the name, rank, and position where each deceased pony had been involved across the entrance, walls, and rooftops.
>It would stay inaccessible except to those that desire learning a new, vital piece of history.. or to relearn the old ways, Lunars would remark wistfully.

>One small, dirty marble golem on the east was directing barely half a companeigh of Watch Support Strikers, stacking recently cut beams, planks, and freshly molded stone slabs around the Village's exterior.
>Lines streaming around to the east, west, and north entrances, the blockades, barriers, and Razorback's firing line had been removed, none of the building damage repaired.
>Inside Basin Village, it was empty for the first time both Razorback and Lunars had seen, save for five black robed batponies seated around the basin, Bloodhosts dispersed among them.
>The altar was no longer in view, instead restored to its namesake, while the fountain was still surrounded by translocation matrices.

>Directly south of the fountain was a thoroughly bizarre craft facing the east; sharply angled forward winglike protrusions, another sweeping pair angled down two-thirds behind the front, and a secondary set, possibly acting as rudders, on gimballed joints.
>Visibly similar yet exotic weapons studded the front, side, and lower sections, products of distinctly alien thought processes.
>An unusual blue coloration and familiar, patchy silver tone were decrepit, showing long disuse, but most unusual was the sense that it was dead.
>Behind it was a solid, worn silver hexagon, little more than a pillar, though was emitting faint, garbled radio static.
>Upon comparing the size, slightly larger than a MiG-25, Clemency realizes this example as one of the archaic Otherworld Harpy hulks, most of which rested on the Dark Side of the Moon.
>Standing atop what had to be a canopy was the same Dark Horse cultist mare he'd met much earlier, peering in with a flat stare.
>Slung across her saddle was a matching bright silver case, faintly glowing the same way Guillotine's hull did when in motion.

>Few of the Day or Watch Guard take more than a cursory examination of the scene, the rest marching towards matrices, opening to a variety of streets throughout Stalliongrad and Canterlot.
>Sharing hugs, entwining forelegs, and bumping helmets or snouts together, squads leave without a further word, knowing full well the requiremarent to cover their absences.

>Empire, Kingdom, Conclave, Spireguard, and allied Minotaurs collect towards the north entrance, low, vibrating hums emitting from the ponies, seemingly in meeting.
[1d6 = 4] >Decision

>Peeling off to surround the south entrance in a mob, Lunars step forwards to touch the first lance or spear they could, rotating out for the next in line.
>Helmets removed, assigned squad leaders offer a diamondine blade to each, scoring thin, burning Void-scars in their preferred role.
[1d100 = 79] <Dedication

>>371363
>Holding a minutely twisted, firm smile, Mercy's wings flick in twinned dismissing motions.
"Do not matronize me. I am neither your subordinate nor your filly."

>Checking the severed cloud structure's characteristics, it was two to three decades old, distinctly a Ferron creation as it lacked any form of cognizance or self-actualization.
>What little damage it had sustained reforms with ease as you shape the edges into a sturdy chariot-sled, refining the material somewhat into a half-solid, friction reducing state.
>Comfortable, but not perfect.

>Rolling her left outermost wingblade out once, the flat white mare's snout twitches in disgust.
"You deliberately spurned my honor to protect a Malformed from experiencing rightful death. That is a crime regardless if she professes to be Lunar aligned. They cannot be trusted in the slightest."
>The symbiote's body contorts, returning to its normal state as an amorphous mass as it drifts onto Mercy's saddle, cloud ribbons held tightly in the wingclaws while the cannon barrels resting on her wings, head shaking several times in slight motions.
"It is much too late to attempt a compromise. Six insults this Night without even the slightest recompense? No, I do not care if your irrational feelings come from some neglectful sense of duty or wronged pride."
>Sinking into a rapidly flowing Void spectrum, Mercy's wings strike upwards, hanging in place against violent Airstreams throwing her mane and tail around, ones which wanted nothing to do with you.
>Particle cannons peaking at bright orange, the blind mare shoves the cloud forwards with her front hooves, stretched out voices accompaneigh her calm words.
"Stay on this cloud no matter what. If you refuse then I am not responsible for what will happen-"
>Struck by a hostile, agonizing inability to speak, you're enveloped into the cloud mass, wrenched through the higher Tallus spectrums, passing dangerously between the Blind and Ethereal Plane.
>Safe Overdark Passage: Invoked
[1d6 = 5] <Silence Curse
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Demoralize
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Spirit Walk, Forced
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <B.Intimidation
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12] <E.Cloud Shaping: Direction
[1d6+7 = (3+7) = 10]
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12]
[1d6+7 = (5+7) = 12] <E.Flight: Shove
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (5+9) = 14] <E.Assault: Shove
[1d6+9 = (2+9) = 11]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12]
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <Ethereal Expulse

>>371376
>The voices in his head died off one by one, and no longer being connected to the Overherd did he feel his head throb with a dull headache.
>He had his thoughts to himself again, he could not imagine living a life where the privacy of his own mind was not guaranteed.

>With the march now back in full swing the fatigue that was gaining strength over him faded with each step, but Lont knew he was only delaying the inevitable crash. He only hoped he made it to his own bed in Razorback when that happened.

>Yes...
>Yes, Razorback. That group of chaotic otherworldly hairless apes that has caused so much change in such little time.
>He saw the Solar and Stalliongrad ponies glare murderous daggers at each human, himself included, and understood them fully. He was there after all, at ground zero. How could anyone forgive them of that incident when he will never forgive himself?

>He then looked towards the Crystal ponies and their Auxiliaries. While Canterlot was a burned down bridge the Empire was still their out and proud ally, with the Conclaves now wanting to do trade with them too. Razorback was truly chaotic, for good and bad. He just wished to do more good, yet apparently even seemingly good deeds will lead to more harm from them.
>The winged Operator sighed and slung his Spiker away, hands now free.
>Well, WERE free. Before a kek'ing Batpony filled his hands with a cooked fish and a juicy looking mango. They were gone before he could say thanks.
>He definitely needed to shake himself down of whatever they snuck onto his body when he got to his room.

>They returned to the Basin Village. The carnage had left new scars while the Batponies did their due diligence by adding more scars, those being the names of the fallen onto every possible surface.
>He gave a salute to them and to the neat row of weaponry he passed by.
>History was made here, and again Razorback was involved.

"Thank you for your service, I am grateful."
>He said to his entourage of Stalliongrad mares before they dispersed. There wasn't much else to be said, for what else could he say to them that wouldn't test their patience.
>Now alone he took this moment to wonder about the quiet village.

>Then the Operator saw it, what he could only describe as an aircraft. With a mysterious pony on top of its nose.
>He was about to call out to the hooded pony when his ears picked up the hum of Crystal conversation from the Empire forces through his helmet. He initially was torn on whom to approach first, but his commitments towards the Crystal ponies won through.
>Lont felt slightly awkward, as one would when trying to insert themselves into an ongoing conversation. He didn't sneak up on them, rather he stood there at a respectful distance from the outermost Crystal Pony. Putting the fish and mango away he took off his helmet so to eavesdrop on them before fully committing himself.
>"A shame Gelid Steppes is not among them."
[1d6 = 4] >E.Perception
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] >H.E

>>371377
>Sunny raised her eyebrow at being accused of matronising Mercy, is that what she thought she was doing? As long as it worked, she wasn't going to interrupt.
>She didn't respond at all to anything she said, she had to be pushed just over the edge, they both had to be.
>As Mercy made her play, Sunny didn't resist, as terrifying as it was, and as hurt as she was to have her helping hoof spurned, her gamble had to play out regardless of the consequences. She justly deserved what Mercy had done to her for the mistake of extending her trust to these spiritually degenerated creatures that called themselves ponies. Yet there remained a strong undercurrent of satisfaction regardless.
>In Mercy's anger, the symbiote had remained with her, thus she would not be alone if anything went wrong. The risk to Mercy had been as minimised as she could manage, despite the costs, and she was well on her way back, where she could make a clearer report on what had occurred at the Arena than what she assumed Mercy would have given. As obstinate, uncommunicative and unprofessional as she was. This was as optimal an outcome as she could have hoped for.

>Still, she didn't like being forced into the Overdark.
>Theoretically, she could bypass whatever Mercy had done the same way she had breached her dimensional pocket, by temporarily stripping herself of all physicality, then she should be able to simply re-enter realspace from there.
>Whether it would work was another question, the Overdark was higher in physical weight, much higher than she was comfortable with, she couldn't be sure she would even be able to shed her physicality in this manner and under these conditions.
>It would cost her even if she did, the body was simply not supposed to lack physicality, the shock of transitioning between states was harmful in ways that weren't easy to recover from, but it was better than being in the Overdark for any period of time.
>Rearing her hooves, Sunny dove, as deep into the Underdark spectra as she could manage, willing herself to remain in alignment with the cloud she was on rather than phasing through it. If it worked to keep her from falling directly into the planet, it should work here.

[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12] < M.Stealth + Spider Silk Sneaking Suit + Kitty Catboots + K.I.A
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]

>>371376
>The march back to the Basin Village was a long an uncomfortable one.
>Despite being disconnected from the Overherd, the amount of animosity bore down on him and the rest of Razorback. Now that there was no common enemy to fight it was right back to the leers and avoidance. The Solars still hated their guts, no surprise there, the Watch weren't too far off either.
>If it weren't for the Lunars, Crystals, Conclave, and taurs he'd be worried about another fight.
>He'd walk nonstop for another three hours if it meant they were in better company.

>Finally, what felt a lot longer than expected they begin approaching the Basin Village from the South.
>Explosive craters, signs of the Dagor's drive-thru now cleaned up, various other signs of destruction littered across the landscape.
>There was an attempt of cleanup, even the Rime had been removed. He wondered where all the debris from the human munitions went. Between the various small arms explosives, missiles from him and Clem, and the void-fused MOAB would have left flung hazardous debris far and wide. He hopes no ponies were harmed trying to clean it all up. He'll have to ask about it.

>The Southern entrance of the Village had been barred with spears and lances of the fallen, adorned with regalia. Batponies worked to to inscribe the names onto any surface worth bearing the honor.
>The Basin Village was being converted into one giant memorial.

>The Day and Watch Guard begin to depart. The other forces congregate to the North for reasons unbeknownst to him.
>All that were really left were them and the Lunars.
>Watching the locals and fellow Lunars break off for the Southern entrance's memorial, Jeff sighs heavily to himself as he breaks off from the rest of the Operators to do the same.
>He activates his radio as he heads for the end of the line.
(*Pay respects, if you wish. Then return to the Fortress. Assemble South of the Pagoda and wait for a debrief. I won't be long.*)
>Other than the memorial, he has to see if Vestal is still in the Village or she took off. Probably did a long time ago. And Marshmallow's whereabouts. And the state of the Reaper. He'll find someone properly in charge when he was done paying his respects.
>Getting in line to honor the memorial with the other Lunars, Jeff removes his helmet and hooks it onto his hip. The Gepard's weight had long put a cramp in his shoulder. He could bear it a little longer.

>>371376
>Clemency breaths a sigh of relief when it was his turn to get disconnected form the Overherd
>His thoughts are his own and now he can clear his mind better
>As the march continues, he keeps an eye on the Rookies, especially with the scorn of the Councilierge and Solar ponies glaring at them
>The only thing stopping them from turning on us now is the other half of the host being close allies

>Clemency tries to regain much of his strength during the march
>Slinging Blackhorn, he braces his pack for the long ruck
>While he was going through his water rations, the fish and mangoes was very appreciated, waving thanks to the batponies above

>Reaching the outskirts of the Basin Village, Clemency starts to see the carnage left over from the Tainted armies
>The memories of each landmark comes back to Clemency as he goes by
>Although the damage is being mended, Clemency notices the batponies each scrawling something into the stones
>Looking closely, they're names
>It was touching to him
>Maybe he should bring teal ribbons with him just in case
>But he'll settle for the large M-S.O.L.G craters as him leaving his mark
>Reaching the spear wall with the ribbons, he takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm before giving the memorial a salute
>Finished with his display, he dons the pilot helmet and continued on with the operators

>He notices the main host start to split off, it was now only Razorback and the Lunars with them
>What catches Clem's eye is the bizarre...thing south of the fountain
>Splitting of from the others, he approaches the craft
>It reminded him of the more advanced fighter jets back home
>It then hits Clemency that this thing was an old Harpy hulk, only dead
>The craft reminded him of the Guillotine and Clemency tried to hail it
**"Guillotine, are you still there? How are you faring"*
>He then walked to the pillar in front and inspect it before trying to figure out the static
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Basic Electronic Warfare Operator
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]

>>371368
>Two mindsets from completely different wavelengths stop everything to stare at you, the seal in stunned disbelief, Starglow taking on a short, severely annoyed face.
"I can't imagine being so fucking bittergreen green that the paint's still sopping wet, shiny, clingy, toxic, and isn't even mixed properly."
>Glancing south at the Crystal mare, Shanis sits up partially, voice clipped in visceral warning tones.
"I have no idea how you managed to completely mistake my words. I was annoyed at ponies not listening to me, grumbling about humans not understanding equine herd behaviors, and irritated at equines not understanding human behaviors, which has basically nothing to do with what you said. At all.
When, where, why, and how I did indicate, show, or so much as feel discomfort? I didn't, which IS making me uncomfortable."
>Flicking her pen over and leaning back on her dam's couch, Starglow's eyes narrow, expression cold and flat.
"You're either dead clueless, dangerously ignorant, or both. I'll be quick but fair this one time: thinking like a human will get you killed. Ponies don't have much common with your species, especially thought processes, considerations, and beliefs. It's the little mistakes, like that one you just committed, which fucks up the first chain link, then starts pissing more and more off..
In short, don't assume anything."

>Doing her best to shut out the past minute, Nao's left flipper pats her side several times rapidly, the young seal's face crinkling in good natured humor.
"Seals of all species are neither elegant nor graceful out of water. When we eat too much and become fat is a problem for long distance travel, but I refuse to become that lazy."
>Head tilting left to blink at her tiny claws, then back at Shanis, her head jolts forwards, pressing warm snout into your finger, retracting with a short giggle.
"The idea of becoming bipedal does not appeal to me, but quadrapedal.. may be acceptable within certain conditions. I am most content with my own limbs, however. Should exceptionally fine tasks be necessary, which I am incapable of performing, there are unicorns, Minotaurs, Crystal ponies, among others."

>>371414
>Jose's face quickly pursed into itself as if the most sour of notes dried up his every pore.
>God fucking damnit.
>He had to blunder such a fine interaction with presumptions disguised as politeness
>Wincing slightly from the spiritual pain of his mistake, all he could do was face the disapproval from both mares with a solemn, remorseful look.
"Thank you for correcting my hubris. I'm still learning the basics."

>Hoping he hasn't stepped on yet another social landmine with his apology as Starglow prophesized would happen, he'd soon turn towards Nao with a smaller smile than usual, amping up his careful side to avoid any more mishaps.
>A little extra bit of cheer soon washed upon his face when her snout met his finger, causing him to chuckle amicably in tandem.
"That's great to hear."
>He soon placed a hand on his crouched leg, trying to keep things light to counteract what previously happened.
"I personally wouldn't mind not needing to keep my balance via constant muscle microadjustments."
>An inquisitive look arrived as he mulled over what Nao just said.
"How common is the need to do these exceptionally fine tasks for the average pinniped?"

>>371413
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Senior Advanced Aerodynamics
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Senior Advanced Post-Orbital Technologies
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6 = 4] <Apprentice Aeronautics Engineering
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Proficient Aeronautics Theory & Implementation
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] <Observer Aerospace Navigator
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Graduate Advanced Human Aviation
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Senior Dual Jet-Turbine Aviator
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6 = 2] <Apprentice Engineer
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9] <Teacher Fighter Jet Aviator
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8] <Teacher Pilot
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6 = 5] <Apprentice Researcher
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Graduate Single Engine Propeller Aviator
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6 = 2] <Expert Wingman
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 2] <Expert Aviator
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6+1 = (5+1) = 6] <Expert Perception
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]

>>371422
Betterer version.

>>371424
>The realization that the abilities he was making use of essentially constituted a rudimentary form of Psionicism gave him pause as he stood in front of the reformed canopy bed.
(...Likely a result of influence from multiple high Class entities since first arriving on Tallus. Exact source impossible to currently determine. Current personal psychological assessment uncompromised, but no Amadeus system available for cross reference. If I am capable of exhibiting these symptoms, then theoretically any human should be capable.)

>Turning back to look at the other sleeping party members, he cocks his head before looking back at the bed.
(Then why are they all avoiding using this? Is the concept of 'rest' understood in a more permanent fashion here? Will the bed prevent me from waking? Ownership should not be a concern...)
>Rolling his shoulders, he seats himself down onto the bed again.
>Willing the canopy to become more opaque and close behind him to provide some privacy, he lifts his helmet from his neck with an audible hiss of air.
(Can only hope this isn't a mistake.)
>Setting his helmet next to the formed contour pillow, he lays down and draws the sheets over himself attempting to rest until the rest of the group stirs.

>>371385
>Outside of their disparate actions and within the few accepted commonalities, Watch Guard and Councilierge alike take specific notice of your salute.
>Similarly respectful motions accompaneigh yours at the Basin's impassable south entrance, a complete lack of objections, either by individuals or squads, seem to assure their intentions in honoring earlier agreemarents of guardianship.

>Hearing a single mare sighing deeply, a second quietly snorting to her side, the third, fourth, and fifth share their last few working neurons.
"Try to ignore the Solars. They may not be capable of forgiving."
"Believe me, if Razorback and Stalliongrad were on better terms this wouldn't be the only time we happen to be on the same side without stupid consequences."
"We haven't done anything. There's still two Argus Behemoth-Destroyers we've come into contact with before, and a Riftseeker out there. Can't say we're ungrateful."
"None of us are exempt from our oaths and duties regardless of distance. In case we do not meet again, be as well as a herd planting their garden in spring and a Changeling under a rain cloud."
>Offering quick nods, the five Councilierge mares stiffly clank towards the nearest line of Assault Vanguards awaiting their turn.

>The gathered host pays no attention towards you, joined humming between the factions, sub-factions, and mini-factions, excepting the Ethereal Golem in their center.
>Bucketed head swiveling, quadruple topaz yellow eyes study you from afar, seeming to dull briefly.
>Catching faint subvocalizations throughout, none were speaking in direct language, instead using rapid paced battlesong.. which you didn't know.
>Focusing down on the lead Spireguard for half a minute, the interlaced hums end on a slow, rolling low note, nodding sharply.
"I am not inconvenienced by these tasks, orders, and assignmarents, honored allies. Should enough temporal units remain I will transcribe this conversation and share it with your leaders."
>Triangular shield lifting up to its chest, the Minor Champion bends forwards for a moment, turning to face you and thudding forwards while the crystalline forces separate into their own groups.
>Raising the axe high, then dropping it into the glittering crystalline shield's rear, Vokreed halts barely two meters out, making no effort to move for several seconds.
>Head swiveling to pass over Razorback, then down to you once more, placing the shield tip down on stone, both massive hands holding it steady while the eyes squint.
>Threateningly.
"Razorback Company has been confirmed to harbor, or be, a significant threat to the Crystal Empire. Only a single unit of your Company is not infected by the corrosive Otherworld effect known as Anti. How do you plead?"

>>371413
>>371419
>Visibly less precise than the inactive hulls and relics Twisted Wing often showed or described to you, this unusual gunship was far more ancient.
>Opposite of Guillotine, it was distinctly a production model as it wasn't seamless, though held to such high standards which weren't remotely feasible without undergoing extreme testing.
>With every weapon set in optimal locations for high speed passes, the rear fins would definitely have allowed it to perform long strafing maneuvers, potentially having some underwater capability as well.
>Knowing that the Otherworld Harpies were capable of sustaining extreme atmospheric pressure and gravitational shocks that even the best pegasus couldn't hope to, this example outclassed everything short of the Burning General herself.
>Comparing the sweeping wings and starkly angled flight characteristics to much higher standards of prototypes or custom refits you knew of, the design was intended to be third or fourth in combat, delivering heavier salvos against opportune targets.
>Curiously, the strange S-like symbol below the canopy brightens, three letters, a dash, and two numbers appearing in Common Equestrian.

>Guillotine's calm voice rings through the high channel, a one-point-two second lag noted from it.
*"Aflit on calm Airstreams now ye grace, mineself hast chanced 'pon. Be they gentled wherest thou stand, or in shrieking torrent?"*
>Subdued thrumming across the channel holds for three more seconds before huffing with an amused lilt.
*"Rites of Destruction hath prevailed 'pon thee Lonely One, nay ae plate nor beam unscathed 'mongst thee Lonely One's docks. Destroyers needeth nae more tae suffer, havest given all tae sing 'gain.
Minest armor plates shattered afrontal, tech-arcane weapons damaged, rents of hull aplenty... mine sarcophagus untouched, least of care to it mineself havest. Afresh t'will all become 'pon a rest taken."*
>Cutting out for six seconds, the Harpy's voice returns, speaking in cold, low tones.
"Returneth mineself would afore He escapeth again, yet worst of troubles havest mineself seen: twinned giants, battleships mayhap equines callest them, havest acome from thee Lonely One. Accompaneighed they be, thousands 'pon thousands within hulls greater than minself aplenty. Aflit they all to Bloodied Arena... ignore mineself they did, not a one's weapons sparked in fury.
Nae simple raid or pillaging, ye grace. mineself havest seen not such ae fleet as times long past."

>Less a pillar and more a central processing unit, or perhaps command and control, it was comprised of the same exact seamless material as Guillotine's hull.
>Machine learning routines isolate channels coming from the unit, attempting to analyze, process, and translate the nonstop stream of data, which the system gives up on quickly.
>Flickering into raw digital symbols, they closely matched the archaic Otherworld Harpy text you'd seen before, but this variant had sixty-five characters, two more than the original.

>Leaping off the canopy and gliding to a stiff series of clops next to you, the Cultist leadmare grunts tiredly.
"This one is the least weird thing I've seen tonight-"
>Reaching her wings forward to rub her entire head briskly, she tilts her head up at you, then nods towards the gunship with a flat expression.
"Because next to THAT I can't think of much that's both safe to touch and isn't deadly to look at. I've poked Scars, held chunks of raw black iron, and once ate a piece of.."
>Pausing to grimace, she unslings the bright silver-toned hard case and sets it before the unit, left wingclaws pointing towards it.
"Pickled watermelon rind. I think this needs the one you have, but I don't know the language."

>>371388
>Landing as Airstreams fade around her, Mercy begins to exhale, streaks of pink, black, red, and blue jolt against blue, yellow, white, and green erupting from her mouth and nostrils.
>Head whipping from side to side in fright, she violently chokes on Ethereal and Void essences battling from inside her own body.
>Wingblades sparking to life on their own, surges of volatile pink-hot energetics snare her down, staring helplessly as MUCH worse begins tearing reality around you:
>The cloud shatters apart as you force it through, then into opposing spectrum polarities, junctions of Void, Overdark, and Ethereal phases.
>Previously ignoring each other, each now meets with pure insubstantial hatred:
[1d100 = 95] <Critical Void Breach: Containmarent Failure
[1d100 = 94] <Void Breach Severity
[1d420 = 149] <Void Breach Duration in Cycles
[1d20+80 = (3+80) = 83] <% of Backlash Intensity
>vs:
[1d100 = 82] <Critical Overdark Breach: Containmarent Failure
[1d20 = 12] <Overdark Breach Duration in Cycles
[1d50+50 = (19+50) = 69] <% of Backlash Intensity, %
>vs:
[1d100 = 84] <Major Ethereal Plane Breach: Containmarent Failure
[1d6 = 3] <Ethereal Breach Duration in Cycles
[1d80+20 = (35+20) = 55] <% of Backlash Intensity

>Mercy:
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Self-Purge

>>371417
>Staring the other mare down hotly, Shanis flicks out a long set of deeply serrated, black-tinged blades from her left wing covering.
"If you could stand to be less of a bitch in the future maybe I won't put you on my ponial shit list."
"I'm under no obligations to be more or less than what, and who, I am."
"Then how does me slapping the arrogance out of your skull sound for an obligation?"
>Tensely holding their gazes, Starglow glances down with a flat, disgruntled snort, the black suited pegasus relaxing into her couch with an annoyed expression.
"Do whatever you like, though I won't be responsible if you twist a feather."
>Muttering several lines in an aery, coldly toned dialect that sounded vaguely French, Shanis tilts her head towards you, wearing a distantly irritated frown.
"I'd ask you to ignore her but that'd take effort better spent elsewhere...
In any case, she is correct on one fact: don't assume. That's the quickest way to make a social faux pas and definitely not the worst thing you could do. Wearing faction regalia, symbols, heraldries, that sort of stuff, in the wrong place is far more likely to cause hostilities."
>Glancing you up and down once more, the white mare's shoulders lift.
"Mmm.. since you're going to Argenta's Lands, I don't think you have anything they'd be offended by. Nice cloak though, wish mine hadn't gotten lost during the move."

>Staring up at the Pagoda's interior beams as if they were the most interesting objects ever, Nao brings her focus down with a bright, partially smushed in smile.
"Swimming requires more microadjustmarent compared to standing, lying down, or rolling. Making a single degree of movemarent in the wrong direction is enough to consistently miss a moving object in water, particularly if said object is evading, fleeing, or in hard current."
>Left flipper curling back to rub her chin, the Polar Seal's whiskers ripple in thought.
"For most in the Colonies? .....two to three times per week. We do not carve as much as our ancestors did, that I am sure of. There are a lot of minerals, gems, and odd things that must be delicately removed from sedimarent, stone, or wood, although the younger, more intelligent drakes, wyrms, and Dragons tend to perform that work instead of us."

>>371428
>As Jeff waited in line to honor the fallen, Jeff looks into the Village where the fountain was. Lumin armor. Must be a specialized cleanup crew. Not a single piece of evidence, minus the desertion, indicated a battle ever took place.
>He'll try asking where everything went, before he leaves.

>The memorial, upon closer inspection, was built to last. The now master-less weapons were welded in diamond to stone. Only the most malicious of force would dare to move them.
>Numbers aside, the loss was too much. Unnecessary. But it happened. All they could do now is honor and remember their sacrifice, and live for them.

>He sees the Lunars etch various parts of their faces with the diamondine blades. The closest around him he can see they were Void enchanted for a particular scarring effect.
>While no blade has been offered to him yet, he draws the one he had chosen from the Lunar Collective.
>He looks it over, the biteblade uncomfortable in his grip. It's properties still a mystery to him. Does it even have a Void enchantment on it? Perhaps something more deadly that if trying to scar his face would cause a far worse effect?
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Junior Researcher
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]

>In EnKee, he observes what each individual has chosen to bear permanence. On the faces or near the head, to ensure it is visible to the world. As a badge, of sorts. To commemorate the battle, to the fallen?
>A drop of blood from each is added to the memorial, as a tribute he thinks. Like pouring one out, or leaving a personal memento at a grave. He's done that before for fallen friends, and comrades...
>Feeling his connection to the Moors and the Lunars, and considering his position, it only seems necessary he partake as well.
>Maybe he should wait for a safer blade to do the deed.
>What should he even carve into himself, and where?
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Junior Batponies
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Proficient Lunar Military
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Senior Starborn
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>>371433
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]<E.A. Lightning Strike (Self)
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] (Ka)
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]<Expert Perception + P.A.
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6 = 1]<Amateur Earth Pony Psionicism
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]<Graduate Neural Brain Interface Systems
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]

>>371432
>Motionless where they sat around the emptied basin, the Bloodhosts and black robed batponies minutely fluctuated throughout realspace.
>Small, barely perceivable tremors surround each, trace afterimages of blue, red, purple, and black visible, though faint streaks of ashen pink jitter across spectrum boundaries.

>Continuing their duties with stolid purpose, the Lumin armored unicorns rotate around, trading off from both fatigue and weariness.
>Presumably the ones to have removed all materials, and while you couldn't read unicorn, they were visibly undertaking a thorough, purposeful spiritual cleansing of the Village.
>Bright Lunar sigils relaying their actions to each other instead of speaking, known symbols for 'Tainted' flash between remarks of Lunar corruption, Plasma corruption, Eldritch taint, Planar essences, and multiple equivalents to 'purification'.
>Theirs is a sacred act of duty and commemoration, were only removing evidence out of necessity to prevent further contamination throughout the entirety of Basin Village.

>Grasping the biteblade firmly in hand, releasing, flexing, then exploring the unmarked, unremarkable features.. your eyes firmly attune in near-Moonborn thought processes.
>This one was created during the Late Dynasty Conflicts, right at the initial actions and stages of what would lead to the Lunar-Solar War.
>The weapon was unnamed and did not deserve one, according to the imprints of those Lunars that designed and shaped it, among tens of thousands more.
>Grandmaster gem-smiths, shapers, crafters, Mystics, Necromarecers, Druids, Elemarentalists, Geomarecers, batpony cultists, and dozens alike had designed it solely to inflict destruction.
>To kill sentient and sapient alike, where blood must flow and Anima existed to be stolen.
>To destroy Undead and Spectral alike, where physicality was unimportant and Animus was to be rendered inert.
>It wasn't intended to have other purposes, rendered as a final, completed weapon in service, to serve, and to be delivered by principle, but it was created in honor.
>To score yourself with it would not be presumed wrongful, yet it wasn't the proper tool to be marked by.

>Stepping back into histories, hundreds of similar rituals existed across Moorite, Lunar, and some Ferron regions of Mainland Equestria.
>To sacrifice a drop of blood in remembrance of others, dedicating the recognition of fallen family to the future inheritance of equinity had always been part of Luna's children, whether related, distant, or otherwise.
>As family, to family, no matter who, where, what, how, or when an individual occurs.
>Combining several of the most common rituals, the Moorite's favored memorialization, an older Lunar remembrance, a Ferron rite of thankfulness in service, and a Starborn ritual borne from the end of the Lunar Guardians, Basin Village was now consecrated as a place of immarense holiness.
>Composing multiple, older blood rituals into a single form was beyond remarkable: such changes had never occurred in Lunar or Moorite history.
>The unusual modification of adding favored heraldry, ribbons, streamers, and bands to weapons was, however, an ancient Rushyan, then later Stalliongrad, custom, beginning during the Early Dynasty Era.
>Yet, that last had now been fully embraced by Moorites, and it seemed even their most viciously fanatic, xenophobic factions accepted it wholeheartedly and without reservation.

>Becoming aware of thousands of eyes upon you, a mid-50's unicorn Commarender, unusually in dark purple Charger armor, stomps forwards.
>Presenting a deeply Void-touched diamondine ritual blade, hilt first atop a cloud of red energies, her helmet shakes side to side, faint impressions of sincere apology felt from her.
"I will request that you do not use the unnamed ones. Weapons made solely for the purposes and principles destruction do not serve well as tools of honor, but I will not deem such unworthy. It is your choice that I must respect."

>>371436
>Looking over the biteblade, Jeff comes to the conclusion that it had only one true purpose.
>Forged in an era where a weapon was going to be of the utmost necessity. An era of war. Not a skirmish or battle here and there. The Lunar-Solar War.
>To kill and drain the life of the living, and to exorcise the unliving and render their spirits nonexistent.
>Undeserving of a namesake, therefore he will not give it one.
>It was a tool for destruction, not for ceremony.
>What he was planning on using it for would be a waste. Tabooish.

>Going over what he remembers from Lunar military history, this ritual took practices from several era and nations.
>Blood tribute, ornamentation, inclusion. All combined into a clear and powerful display to honor the fallen with.
>The Lunar Collective would probably find this memorial fitting, had they not taken off hours ago.

>As he mulls over the why and hows in his head, he suddenly feels the eyes of the Lunars and others upon him.
>The token human Starborn ready to partake in the old-yet-new Ritual. Or he was about to de-FACE himself with a true weapon of war.
>A unicorn Commarender approaches Jeff, with a more appropriate blade to perform with the ritual.
>Nodding his head and sheathing the old Lunar Solar War biteblade, he give her a apologetic smirk.
"Right. Best to leave it to was it was made for..."
>Tilting the Gepard off of his shoulder, he places it on the ground next to him and rotates his shoulder to get the feeling back into it.
>He groans inwardly at not switching shoulders to burden the heavy rifle more during the march.
>Right arm limbered back up, he grabs the handle of the blade offered to him by the Commarender and draws it out of its sheathe.
>Cradling the edge of the blade in his left palm, handle in his right, he murmurs to himself with hesitation.
>He leans in slightly, whispering under his breath to the unicorn mare.
"What to I mark myself with? A word... a symbol? Does it mater where?"

>>371438
>Head bowing for three seconds, the unicorn Charger stands upright, dull purple eyes half-lidded in exhaustion beneath clear diamondine plates.
"I intend neither disrespect nor dishonor. Those which are unnamed should not be removed from Armory or Reliquary without explicit purpose, and guarded intentions."
>Turning to lift her chin at the sealed weapons forming a gate, the mare exhales heavily through nostril slits.
"While it may be time to revoke their long rests and be returned to service once more, I do not believe most ponies will readily accept them. Councilierge, Day and Watch Guard will suffer equal battles against their own relics and artifacts of prior generations."
>Touching the late Lunar-Solar War relic's tightly bound hilt, eerily comprised of strands taken from Naghtmare tails and manes, the dagger's edges draw out into elongated, esoteric shapes.
>Helmet turning to dip at an earth mare silently undergoing cruel, yet gently firm scarring on her snout, the Commarender's eyes close slowly in thought.
>Opening to meet your gaze, her voice rolls in distant, quietly vibrating subtones, horn lighting in a stark Moonslone glow and wrapping the relic blade's handle with the same.
"That which must be willingly shared and known by All Creation,
Placed by those whom share the suffering of equinity as you do,
Marked as worthy dedications in EnKee within this holiest of places on reality."
>...a Channeler, you realize belatedly in faint alarm.
>Similar to a Shamare in most respects, each are partial empaths, capable of exploring the divisions between physicality and the pseudo-realities that Spectrals, Wraiths, and Revenants inhabit, though not without some danger.

>>371439
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShNq-hqKK1U

>An apparent reconnection has been made.
>An often lauded and much maligned "third sense" that from his Earth at least, never bore much fruit beyond a specific project that was certainly much different from the common idea of the concept.
>Yet, yesterday's delusion has become today's reality.
(Command would have a hard time believing this. Research's occultic branch would probably be having a field day... )

>A strangely familiar intuition actualizes itself within the operative's mind.
>A model, a framework of perception that achieved its results based on intuitive understanding.
(Not far removed from some models of magic in fantasy novels and anime. The "Art of Visualization" where rules are defined by the user's cognitive limits and an energy resource. Does this mean I can genuinely claim to have an evil power sealed within my arm? )
>It thankfully felt hale and wholly familiar as if acknowledging something that had long been present but never named.
>One of the benefits of an intuitively driven power.
>The impetus for this actualization seemingly traced to an understanding of the nature of utilizing enchantments, treated as an extension of one's self despite not being an original part of it.
>The potential for this power was staggering...
>And the implications were disturbing.
(Initial guess was correct. Any human is capable of developing these powers. Then the potential for contamination is extreme beyond measure. Possibly even greater harm than mere technological introduction or cultural contamination.)

>The need for a firm, effective methodology to control its development would be critical.
(Both for myself and for other human psionics. Another structure that will need to be implemented alongside even more Damage Control.)
>Razorback may have some viable teachers for the "types" of psionicism, but current pressing issues need to be addressed first.
(Would prefer not to involve even more ponies into human affairs. May be best to seek out Tipper given her unfortunately copious experience with human affairs already, but only if this operation succeeds fully... otherwise the stress may damage her.)

>>371430
>Well, that didn't work. In fact it had made matters a lot worse.
>As the vortex of hostile opposing energies began to form around her, Sunny realised it would be a very, very bad idea to remain amongst them.
>Somersaulting off the cloud and away from the epicenter of the vortex, Sunny examined what she could of it with what little she knew.

[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] < M.Evasion - K.I.A
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>The Void energies appeared much more violent and insistent than the other two, but there was a good chance the Overdark and Ethereal energies would tag team it in a sense. It was hard to tell which would come out on top.
>She may be able to do something about the Void breach given the energies that suffused her, but only if it overwhelmed the other two and only if she was very, very lucky. At least something positive would come of that particular inconvenience, but then, this wouldn't have happened if she hadn't been suffused with those energies to begin with.
>Opening her mouth, nothing came out, whatever Mercy had done to her still held its sway, she had not even succeeded in breaking out of the Overdark.
>No communication whatsoever, no tools, no reinforcements.
>Further, she wasn't tall enough for this ride, nothing in her arsenal would have any effect. Her hoofclaws may, but so much as getting near a breach like this was much too dangerous, to say nothing of what would be coming out of it shortly, and what it would be dragging in.
>So she wouldn't be able to tip the scales in any way.

>Mercy seemed to be having a rough time, she couldn't be sure, but it looked as if two of the conflicting energies were conflicting inside of her.
>Sunny felt at once remorse, and no sympathy for the mare. She could look after herself, as she had just made very clear.

>>371431
>José's shoulders sag a little as the two mares briefly scuffled a little more, mentally cursing his mistake, before finally letting out a little sigh of relief as Shanis directs her focus towards him.
"I appreciate the check, miss Shanis."
>However, he soon turned pensive, lightly inspecting Lann's spare coat by pinching the fabric with his fingers.
"What does your cloak look like, if I may ask?"

>Now directing his attention towards the slightly more cheerful, Gallo happily nodded in understanding.
"It may be because I am not used to swimming, but I find it fascinating to think about how the body can move underwater. It has this feeling of flow that I can't grasp on land."
>He soon chuckled softly at his admittedly plain observation before gingerly continuing.
"As for gem carving, do you think it'd be a worthy skill to have if I wanted some seal friends?"

>>371441
>Self-isolated thoughts filter calmly as your body recuperates through vague skeins of time, the Elemarental Plane's mostly helpful exterior comprehensions were silent.
>No, there wasn't an evil power, Only responds.
>What you have was a decisively engineered, analogous bond of Lightning, resulting from a combination of intellectual greed, purposeful overcompensation, and semi-reckless experimarentation to grant then-future equines of the later Middle Dynasty Era specific properties which could be passed down to future generations.
>Project 220 of Refined Batch 11 was labeled inconsistent by researchers frightened of Tallus' Elemental Cores, potentially returning to destroy their work, yet proved to be successful.
>The specific one Denra randomly hoofed to you managed to bridge thousands of divides between human and equine genetics.
>While he fully responsible for the Enclave Party's rather nasty end results, Denra did suffer from several weeks of painful Elemarental imbalances, and minor digestive tract distress, from it.

>Cognizant long before your eyes open in the sealed partition, neural pathways, muscles, tendons, and vascular systems throughout the body prepare for activity.
>Waking into a thoroughly energized, and for once, fully restored state, it felt as if 18 hours had passed, though you'd only slept right before Dusk.
>Tallus Entropy had little claim on sapients here.

>Outside of the ionic barriers, Katyal, Lonestar, and Hodch were sitting in the rug's center, Nibbles lounging atop the stallion's saddle, surprisingly normal deliberations occurring between them as the first two share rations.
"Nah, none of the Overlander's systems are good as the originals. If I wanted print outs it'd take a while. "
"Understood. Likewise my maps on the surrounding region and virtually every piece of knowledge is excruciatingly out of date. I think it best we do not head east or west greater than five human standard miles at most from the main road. Is that acceptable?
And good Dusk to you, Pare. We are planning a travel route."
"What's up sleepyhead, feeling great like the rest of us do?
Ehhh, make it ten miles and I'll agree. Been around enough Ess-Ay's Dynasty ruins to know staying near paths like this one are just as bad as avoiding them."
"Why's that? And good Star's evenin' to you."
"That Abomination Hodch was talking about before we came in here is.. basically like a standard suite of mutations. Small predators half my size become about a third the size of your APC. They'll start developing unusual behaviors, become omnivorous or worse, have mutated weapons, armor, and abilities they shouldn't."
"Have you studied them enough to know whether or not they are related to the creation, production, deploymarent, use, or potential loss of Elemarental Cores?"
"Not me directly, no. The Circle's researchers have a few hundred stacks of pages solely on Dynasty related Abominations. So far as they've been able to pin down in Early to Middle Dynasty records, there was a definite contamination vector in nearly every Lab and research facility. Personally I think there were two, at, worst three.
There's maybe five ponies in Ess-Ay that can read the language. Er, some parts of the language. Or languages. Which doesn't help, I know."
"I can translate a few words thanks to Spiral but the vast majority are too far condensed to comprehend. Any indications on what influenced such vectors?"
"Nothing beyond 'we know X1 did Y5L, therefore L500XY is a huge threat we have to avoid'. In other words: not one single fucking idea."
"The same as Lunars, Moorites, and my Order. We remain dumbfounded."
"......this is partial speculation on my part, but Silverbitch was much smarter during the Early Dynasty. She set out huge goals in broad terms back then. So, those Labs, research bases, Temples, and whatever else work for centuries, entire generations from different schools of knowledge and most species start adding up.
They make thousands of breakthroughs, record what they can, but don't know what to do. Then in the Middle Dynasty Era shit starts getting out of control. Between the variations of Elemarental Cores, biological research, and motherfucking Anti everywhere, everything starts breaking down."
"Hm. The only groups that did not contribute were the Crystal Conclaves, Kingdom, Empire, and Changelings-"
"You're forgetting the Crystal Lorekeepers."
"...I was about to exclude them. They, and I mean the Crystal Lorekeepers, kept all of their records. Activities, research, production quotas, food, everything. None of which directly aids us but the information may prove useful.. if we could cross-reference their own records against the Fallen and Remnant Dynasties.
Harpies, whether native, Extra-Planar, or Otherworld hated her as well, though we've no contact with them outside of individuals here and there.
The vast majority of Dragons, sapient wyrms and drakes, Neighsians, Ewerup, and a large amount of Argentum wanted nothing to do with the Dynasty."
"So, what's the plan?"
"I will agree to ten miles east or west, but we will deviate the second any of us pick up so much as a single unusual sensation or particle. We need to avoid all possible contacts and conflicts."
"Agreed, With that outta the way I'm gonna step out, check and see what's gone on since we took this damn nice rest stop."
[1d100 = 41]

>>371427
>Lont stood there, brow furrowed as he listened. He was confused. They were using battlesong to communicate.
>He then noticed that Vokreed was the only one from the Crystal Host to pay him any heed, staring him down.
>Then the Ethereal spoke. Confirming and bookending the private conversation of the Host. What piqued his curiosity was it was in plan Common.
>"Did he speak in Common due to me being here?"
>Before he could ask himself why, the Minor Champion moved up on him. He tracked the Ethereals' axe and breathed in relief that he put it away behind his shield.
>This relief however was cut short by Vokreeds question.

>Lont's mouth opened then closed as a flood of memories wracked his mind.
>The Anti in their radios Spiral made, as a means track those that use them and to protect against tampering. And of course he fought a core of the Solar Tyrant, made out of Anti, which he bashed at with his sword. He must of stunk to high heavens of the stuff.
>Razorback was guilty of using Anti, which is a threat to the Empire.
>He felt his throat dry up, forcing him to cough.
>That threatening look. What will happen to him or Razorback if he pleaded guilty? Will he be cut down on the spot. Perhaps that's why the Empire forces were so distant. What better opportunity to snuff out a bunch Anti-infected when they are too tired to fight back.
>But in the Basin Village of all places? Maybe this was their golden moment to do this rather than assault the Fortress.
>Yet...
>"Yet I was in the Empire numerous times and nopony batted an eye at me nor anyone else, not even Belregard said anything! So if its a threat to the Empire surely death isn't the only solution for it. No, no I'm overreacting. He has that look in his eyes because I am an Otherworldly being that reeks of Anti. He wants the truth, so I'll will oblige him."

>The winged Operator was silent for a heavy moment when the Ethereal asked his question. A cough escaped from Lont as his mouth was dry. Rapidly blinking he focused on Vokreeds four eyes. Determination was in his own.
>"He is an Ethereal, so I must lay out my case like one."
"Guilty. Guilty of harbouring the element known as Anti."
>Now or never.
"Addendum! It must be noted that Razorback was ignorant of the dangers Anti posed towards the Crystal Empire. For we used this element as a safety measure within our communication technology. If we had known the threat it has towards our esteemed allies we would not have used it to begin with, and in this regard we will remove all Anti from Razorback to ensure the security of the Crystal Empire."

>>371440
>He waves off the Commarender's worries with a small smile.
"It's fine, Ma'am. It was offered to me by those who originally wielded them. They woke up, right when I was checking their crypt for the restoration. I don't intend to use it for anything other than its original purpose. Hopefully, I never have to."
>Jeff looks over at another Lunar nearby scarring themselves.
>His turn, now. Or never.
>The Channeler focusing back onto him, he takes her words in and considers their meaning.
>On display for all to see. A mark he'll have to wear for the rest of his life.
>A mark only those who have felt the loss of other ponies... loss of your herd. The feeling is a universal pain to him. Human or pony, it didn't matter.
>A dedication to the sacrifice all here have made, to everyone that ever makes it.
>He looks back down at the blade, eyes close lost in thought as what to etch onto himself.
>Lots of cliche words that hold little meaning to the memorial go in and out of his mental list.
>What is something that anyone that looks upon him can relate to?
>Not just a word with a single meaning. Something that can transcend, apply to various aspects.
>To ponies, giving their lives for an honorable cause is almost to a fault. But it comes at a cost to those that survive. To not be able to have those family, friends, comrades, even would-be's beside them, herd or not, takes a massive toll.
>He felt that enough through Vestal, hours ago.
>But here's not much else you can do after they're gone. You can mourn, remember, carry on their will. What else CAN you do for those that are already dead?
>Jeff opens his eyes, focus set on a word.
>He drops to his knees for a more stable yet dignified position, bringing the blade up to his face. As if a dignified warrior of bygone eras.
>Mulling over his options for a canvas, he rules out the throat. His skin is a lot thinner than pony hide, and his armor usually covers his neck.
>Around the eyes and his nose were too small to etch anything worth across them.
>Jeff aims the tip of the blade toward his left jaw, closer to his chin and right before the corner of his mouth.
>Taking a deep breath and softly clenching, he touches the edge against his skin to get a feel for what's to come.
>He wasn't afraid of cutting himself, but merely silently bracing for the pain that the Void enchantment was going to bring.
>Remembering to use the verbal form of the word in EnKee, he starts the first letter near his chin and carves across his jawline up to his ear.
>For those that have selflessly given up that right, so that others may cherish it. To experience life fully is to honor their sacrifice.
>LIVE
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Synaptic Voidcleanse
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <E.Iron Will
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Junior Batponies
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Proficient Lunar Military
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Proficient The Moors
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Senior Starborn
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]

>>371452
>A response approaching amusement crosses Pareidolia's mind.
(It was a cultural reference, but I appreciate the information. The confluence of these circumstances feels orchestrated despite everything. Likely paranoia on my part. One can hope.)

>Feeling awake in a deep seated sense, he braces himself upright off the bed and inhales deeply.
(Strange clarity. Best to avoid attachment to these sensations. Long term residence on this plane is not part of the plan.)
>Clasping his helmet to his palm with a quick Sticky application, he dons it.
>Staring at the empty display, he reviews the recent events he experienced with the sort of lucidity only found from a deep, effective REM sleep.
(The controlled state of this room should be safe for electronic activation. Prolonged stay has determined the climate to be stable. May have been safe from the beginning. Not a major loss to do so now, however.)
>He reaches behind his head uncovering and pressing the activation switch before closing the protective cover once more.
>Nodding to Shiibo as she boots up, he quickly provides a concise elaboration of the current state of affairs including his efforts in creating a conceptual weapon and psionic discovery.
>Manifesting his unnamed graviton pulse "pistol", he provides a full encompassing view of it to the helmet's sensors as he attempts to contain a graviton.

[1d6 = 4]<Gravitic Coaxing

>He parts the canopy and steps out with his pack carried behind him.
>With a glance behind him, he wills the bed to return to its former state.

>Seeing the rest of the group congregated, he makes his way towards them and seats himself next to Hodch and Nibbles.
>Katyal's question garners a shallow nod from him as he unclasps a glove, presenting his hand towards Nibbles for a standard introductory inspection.
"I seem to have uncovered nascent psionicism. Nibbles, is there anything else on or in me that I should be aware of?"
>Noting the topics of potential threats and charting a travel route, he also switches his helmet's projector on with a free hand to display the maps from Spiral's Lab.
"For cross reference in the event they're needed."

>>371429
>Clemency gives the harpy aircraft a good walk around, almost as if he was conducting a pre-flight checklist on the thing
>So far, the theoretical aerodynamics the aircraft seemed to be made for impresses Clemency
>The aircraft looks like it can perform and handle most aerial maneuvers and with the weapons, provide good CAS
>He was a little confused by the symbols on the harpy vessel
>Only appearing when he was close to it
>"Thought it was dead, unless..."
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Senior Advanced Aerodynamics
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Senior Advanced Post-Orbital Technologies
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6 = 6] <Apprentice Aeronautics Engineering
[1d6 = 3]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Proficient Aeronautics Theory & Implementation
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <Observer Aerospace Navigator
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6] <Graduate Advanced Human Aviation
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <Senior Dual Jet-Turbine Aviator
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6 = 1] <Apprentice Engineer
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <Teacher Fighter Jet Aviator
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <Teacher Pilot
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6 = 2] <Apprentice Researcher
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6+5 = (2+5) = 7] <Graduate Single Engine Propeller Aviator
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6+5 = (3+5) = 8]
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10]
[1d6 = 5] <Expert Wingman
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 6]
[1d6 = 6] <Expert Aviator
[1d6 = 4]
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Expert Perception
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4]
[1d6+1 = (6+1) = 7]

>Hearing the Guillotine, Clemency is relieved to hear that she is fine all things considered
>Her initial question did make Clemencyy check the Airstreams in his immediate vicinity
>He did expect them to be more calm now since the fighting is over
*"It's good to hear you are well, Guillotine."*
>It's not surprising that she noticed the Construct fleet incoming
>But they really are focused on the Riftseeker's destruction to ignore the Guillotine's presence
>More credence given to the messages Clemency seen from them and Mercy speaking for them
*"The Constructs. They are only here for the Riftseeker. We are already in agreement with them to only allow them to fight and destroy it."*
>With the amount of Constructs coming, he was even more glad to not have stayed for the fighting
>Clemency does wonder if there would be any Basin Arena left after the Constructs are done

>Hearing the Cultist mare walk towards him, Clemency looks down to meet her gaze
"I'm just glad it isn't trying to kill me."
>Clemency did share a grimace with the leadmare
"Watermelon rind? Why that?"
>Nodding to agree with her, Clemency begins to search around for the silver case
>After pulling it out, he brings it before the pillar and inspect the digital symbols more
"It's Harpy alright. Ancient otherworld Harpy but there's extra symbols. I'm also not fluent in it."
>Hopefully the hardcase does something to help out

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_aUIls1fwQ

>>371442
>Vomiting a stream of negligently absorbed hostile energies out, Mercy's state was not-quite-hating-everything-yet-but-I'm-getting-closer-every-second-to-it.
>Twisting about and diving straight into the encroaching Void, contamination of realspace heavily distorts the swamps and bogs surrounding her-
[1d6 = 4] <B.Iron Will
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 5] <Spectrum Dive: Breach
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11] <E.Flight
[1d6+7 = (1+7) = 8]
[1d6+7 = (4+7) = 11]

>Erratic, geometric crystalline ripples and breathing, erratic dark shapes flood into reality as you attempt to leap, dragging the mostly damaged cloud with all four hooves into a slightly slowed backwards roll.
>Void and Ethereal clash into each other, the first a profusion of claws, blades, tendrils, teeth, wrenched out shadows of Void Divers, among far worse sliding into view.
>Sections of the Ethereal Plane itself swing open, endless rows of subdued, barely functioning, damaged, or repairing Golems in lines far longer than you could rationally visualize, massive right handed weapons and left shields snapping upwards.
>Millions of quadruple eyes pulse, archaics turning to face down inherently hostile Void creatures, the closest already being torn apart by monstrosities that you had no names for.

>Then... he arrives:
>One of the few known beings that Moorites and Lunars had both agreed upon a name for, with no need to move in order to comprehend the infinite or less, he knew you existed, yet did not mind.. but was far less forgiving towards the Spirit Walker.
>At the extreme edges of vision and comprehension, far below you, vast fragmarents of murky, tinged silver coalesce, solidly transparent one-tenth of a second, corporeally transient the next, the form reflects Moonlight into the Void, back again, between, apart, and through.
>What might pass for a mountainous shard, or perhaps more correctly an imprint, extends towards you, or it may have been doing so.
>Thousands of hushed, whispering voices congregate together as it points.. elsewhere.
This is no place for an Equine, finite one. The Blasted wake. Escape, swiftly.
>Unbearably precise motions of fractal patterns shake realspace as backlashes from the Myrror King's mere presence rend the far less stable waves of higher spectrums, smashing into the cloud-chariot-raft, sending it, and you, on a rapid crash course you had no idea where-
[1d100 = 83] <Altitude
[1d100 = 57] <Backlash Intensity
[1d100 = 15] <Spectrum Overload: The Blind
[1d360 = 167] <Direction

[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Myrror King: Desecration
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Critical Void Infestation
[1d6 = 5] <The Black
>vs:
[1d6-1 = (2-1) = 1] <Archaic Ethereal Golems
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <Archaic Ethereal Moss-Wisp Host: Return
[1d6 = 2] <Ethereal Plane: Realspace Subordination

>>371558
>There went Mercy, gone beyond her ability to keep track of. Odds were that she would head back to the Arena after a spell, but perhaps not. As far as Sunny knew, she was as good as removed from consideration.

>Turning back to sights-she-could-barely-comprehend and regret-for-bringing-into-this-phase-of-existence, all she could do was pull the cloud away from it.
>She felt the Overdark recoil and all but cease to exist, and yet what Mercy had done still held, only forcing her higher and higher into the spectrum, right to the very edge of what managed to remain.
>Then something much more coherent and at the same time less punctured her perception.
>She knew of this one, though could not quite remember from whom she had learned of it.
>Sunny was still unable to speak, she couldn't ask either of them to stop.
>She had been about to attempt to respond when she and the cloud she rode in on were suddenly and forcibly ejected, all she could do was cling for life as the sudden g forces very nearly knocked her off the cloud, her barely honed pegasus magic kicking in on instinct.

[1d6 = 6] < U.Flight
[1d6 = 4] < B.Cloud Shaping
[1d6 = 5]

>>371443
"Pure silverine sheet exterior atop five ultra tight, stranded black Spectral silk layers from the Moors. Interior was an ultra fine, incredibly soft, fluffy, and warm sheaf of multicolored Crystal Empire lamb wool. Sixteen emeraldine braces across the saddle, Middle Dynasty pieces salvaged from a shipwreck.
Bright rubynine heart-shaped shield on the left side, black iron tower shield on the right in gold. Covered in pegasi decorations, mostly silver trimmed clouds, serrated hoofclaws and wingblades, short twin-beamed lances."
>Glaring southwards for several momarents, Shanis rolls her head onto the hoofrest heavily, left wing flicking in a tight, dismissive motion.
"You're a year and a half too late for that one. It's about four thousand miles southeast of here and buried under a hundred hooves of ice and snow, if not more now. One hoof is four inches by the way."

>Testing the thick, multilayered material, it had significant tensile strength under finely brushed, almost fuzzy outer weave.
>While it looked and felt like cotton there was little air transfer, easily trapping warmth.
>Probably waterproof, too.

>Left flipper raising, Nao curls it inwards to touch her side, then slowly uncurls it, flexing each claw out.
"Humans, being bipedal, do not have the same center of mass and stride that ponies do. It is easier for you to maneuver in tighter locations due to more flexibility, but you also do not have the same easy forward momarentum.
When we must travel on land it is easier to roll, but that makes us dizzy rather quickly. Most prefer the use of a chariot, sled, or occupying a pony's saddle. That is, if they do not mind our weight. We have technically the opposite problem."
>Snout crinkling briefly, the Polar seal's eyes squint before shaking her head in tiny motions.
"The inherent value of each depends on the individual in question. My Colony does not like extravagant or unnecessary, or both, modifications of gems, stones, and natural materials. We prefer objects to be left native if possible, unaltered is perhaps a better word, so I do not know for sure. Round is our favorite shape though."

"I tried to swim once. Sank faster than my last two jobs."
>Rapid scribbling and paper creases halt, an envelope set to the side in a dull purple cloud, Starglow picking up another to stare at.
>Shanis eyes the younger looking Crystal mare, ears flat in visible distaste as she writes.
[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] <E.Appraisal
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6] <E.Bartering
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
"And what were those?"
"Not dying, and not screwing up. I dislike manabombs more than Constructs, and I really hate walking face first into an ice gouger."
"Never heard of one, but I don't like the name at all."
"Similar to a giant ten-legged wurm without the six eyes. Half the body is a mouth filled with diamond teeth, never see the rest unless they're dead."
"Ethereal or Ice Plane?"
"Native."
"Marental note number I-don't-know-which-this-is: never visit the Empire Wastelands."

>>371453
>Rigidly unmoving until you cough, Vokreed's eyes shutter closed and open multiple times.
"Admission of cri-"
>Colors rippling at your interruption, the Ethereal bends forwards one degree, which took up at least half a meter of space.
>The crystalline Golem's head swivels to note a number of Operators before settling back on you, silent for half a minute.
"Primary, secondary, and tertiary admissions of long standing criminal behavior recorded. The actions of Razorback Company are deemed willfully hostile and willfully negligent against the Crystal Conclaves, Kingdom, and Empire. The inactions of Razorback Company are deemed the same: willfully hostile and willfully negligent against the same.
Primary Razorback Company affiliate-liasion to the Crystal Empire admitted to unauthorized and illegal ownership of objects capable of producing, storing, and-or utilizing the corrosive Otherworld effect known as Anti."
>Right hand lifting, the forefinger points at your helmet, a thin, coherent line emitting from the tip, then at the armor, Mural blade, last the Spellslinger in quick order.
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Traceline
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Ethereal Eye
"Your primary admission of guilt is accepted and recorded as absolute truth.
Primary evidence collected: examination of helmet, armor, close combat weapon, unknown hybrid close combat-ranged weapon, severe Anti contamination. Biological disruptions detected, moderate.
Secondary evidence collected: moderate to extreme Anti exposure detected throughout Razorback Company.
Admission of willful ignorance: negligent. I deem this statement as suspicious, further investigation is required.
Possibility of innocent behavior: zero."
>Pulling the massive shield back to rest against his lower chest, the Ethereal's left shoulder brightens, sprouting five tiny, diffuse plant-like tendrils.
"The Ethereal Plane, under Grand Champion Belregard's proven claim, disallow Razorback Company from entering all regions claimed by the Crystal Conclaves, Kingdom, Empire, and Changeling Hive. Furthermore, the stated regions are granted unrestricted and irrevocable rights to receive at-request reinforcemarents with no limitations allowed.
Exclusion One: lead stallion of venerated Naliyna Remostrine, Crystal Kingdom, former Third Siege Mareauder. Unrestricted access is granted.
Exclusion Two: lead stallion of Sapphire Kiwi, Lunar General. Unrestricted access is granted."
>Giant hand setting down on the shield, the Minor Champion stands upright, unmoving for another ten seconds, then all four eyes narrow again, tapping the shield's top with both thumbs.
"Where and when did Razorback Company gain access to Anti?"