2017-06-15: New Blood
- Log: New Blood
- Cast: Riesenlied, Noeline, Yarobeleedt, Epsilon, Lady Harken
- Where: Old Petra
- Date: 15th June 2017
- Summary: Riesenlied conducts an induction presentation for the new blood, but... a surprise inspection from Lady Harken throws things a little amok.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Old Petra is a former colliery village that has seen the last of its glory days; once a booming iron mine, the town has eventually seen the last of its resistance wither into the arid, drying sun of Filgaia. It was just one of the many ghost villages along the border of the Badlands... up until the Metal Demons chose it as a forward operating base. Now, it acts as a fake village -- with holographic-light villagers going about its routine, amidst the camps of Metal Demons that make the base their barracks closer towards the cliffside of the mine.
Several of Riesenlied's Dragons can be seen perched along the cliff as well, both keeping watch and resting -- the commander of the Ebony Wings is expecting new recruits today, and has arranged for a meeting room to be set free as she gathers several materials before her. It's a fairly nice room, with a long table with refreshments the kind demons would enjoy.
The commander herself is of average height, with a humanoid appearance -- auburn hair that flows long over her shoulders, with wide-stretching black wings that gradient to a translucent orange. To either side of her forehead are large dragon horns with a chitinous appearance, laced together with a light circlet.
"Welcome, everyone. Please, be seated, and help yourself to the refreshments. My name is Riesenlied, and I will be explaining several of the key points of our current campaign here in the Ignasian continent."
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
Not too long ago, Yarobeleedt gave some sort of inconsequential scouting reports to the commander of the Ebony Wings, and finds that his self-aggrandizing stories are cut short in favor of seeing to the arrival of newer faces upon Old Petra. He sulks off to a seat, of which his anatomy proves difficult to navigate as to how to best settle upon it. Yarobeleedt is an advance scout whom suffered grievous injury at Arctica, whose body is in a half-melted state from the damage suffered. The closest mythological equivalent to his physical form would be that of a naga, but the more apt descriptor is 'pathetic gross slug thing,' or maybe even just 'coward.' Heck, he's even predominantly yellow. Yarobeleedt, the yellow-bellied. He has few friends, for very good reason. Whatever seat he's taken up at the meeting table, there is at present a three open space minimum between himself and anyone else that might be present. He has already greedily taken hold of some of the easier-to-digest foodstuffs that are meant for far younger Metal Demons than himself, and seems ready to hoard some more of the refreshments, reaching out with elongated hands and fingers that seem ready to melt right off of him as he makes some annoying breathy grunting noises.
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
Among the demons in the room is a somewhat humanoid figure, standing almost six feet tall, and looking towards Riesenlied with a focused gaze in his yellow, panther-like eyes on an otherwise-humanoid face. He is dressed in what looks to be a dark vest, partially armored by metal slabs, and a curved blade is attached to each of his wrists as he slowly sips his drink. Epsilon, otherwise known as the Steel Panther, carefully listens in on the commander's words as she begins her explanation on the campaign his is sure to participate in.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Taking up a position just behind the commander - sat to one side, her legs crossed and leant forwards on her hand with an amused grin - is one of the stranger Metal Demons to grace both Old Petra and the Photosphere. While she isn't explicitly a Tainted, Noeline is certainly known to be rather unusual amongst Metal Demons, having spent at least a couple of centuries away from their home acting as a spy within enemy territory and learning extensively about humans.
The result... was rather odd, because somewhere along the way she become a very flighty sort - flitting in and out of Photosphere as she pleased, dressing in flamboyant crimson and black clothes, referring to herself as one of the Crimson Nobles of legend and willingly signing up to join the ranks of the Tainted. Most consider her to be an oddity at best, and a human sympathizer gone insane at worst - on the other hand, it's impossible to deny that she brings back a wealth of tactical information each time she returns, having directly aided the attacks both on Arctica and Adlehyde with her knowledge.
Recently, she's been managing to reverse that view of her, at least just a little. In the wake of the Adlehyde attack there have been many lesser demons around Old Petra that have been shaken by the loss and difficulty involved in the attack - and her words, while still strange and often met by anger, have been a slight comfort to some.
Two orbs - small ARM devices, scratched and pitted with age, one metallic grey and the other a rather pastel shade of pink - float just over her shoulders; she beckons one of them down to her, humming to herself thoughtfully as she takes in those around the table.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied glances gently around the room, nodding slowly. Yarobeleedt she knew, of course, though she kind of wished she'd leave some of the refreshments to some of the younger; several miscellaneous Metal Demons have also gathered, fresh-faced and just transferred from the Photosphere to join the ongoing campaign. She looks towards Noeline, before nodding in turn.
"It is... Epsilon, is it not? A pleasure to meet you," Riesenlied addresses the arm-bladed demon.
"To bring you all up to speed, allow me to explain the context of our situation. One thousand years ago, our ancestors first touched down upon this planet, Filgaia, and fought the Guardians and their allies, the humans and the Elw. During this battle, our holy saviour Mother was unfortunately struck down, and it was not until recently that we were able to discover her... though, even as we speak, she still struggles in torpor."
Her expression tightens just a moment. "Our strategic objective is to support and awaken Mother, that she may bring salvation to us all."
"Two weeks ago, our forces struck Adlehyde, an Operation we called 'Gungnir'." She's careful to keep her voice level here, and her words neutral. She presses a button, and there's an overhead view of the Kingdom of Adlehyde on the screen behind her. "Following this operation, we were able to retrieve the Teardrop, an artifact tied to the powers of the Guardians -- ethereal beings that have existed time immemorial, who favour humans with their presence in the form of Mediums."
She frowns slowly. "Unfortunately, despite the Teardrop, we were not able to awaken Mother -- we learnt of additional bindings that the Guardians have imposed upon her, in the form of ethereal bonds that are anchored physically in Guardian statues scattered across the continent."
She gestures. "Your primary objective will be to travel the lands of Ignas, and gather whatever information and intelligence you can on the whereabouts of these statues. Some of you are still maintaining disguises -- use these, and travel with the humans and Drifters; seek the Ruins scattered throughout Ignas, for they often contain invaluable information, not only on the Guardians, but also of our past."
There's some mumbling and uncertainty around the room as some of the Demons whisper with each other. "Are there any questions, before I continue?"
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
"After hard, no, easy work," Yarobeleedt murmurs (only just) quietly enough to not talk over the commander as he greedily feeds on the indistinct but delectable treats metallic beings like him just love to consume, "Yarobeleedt deserves, reserves, to be meserves! So be serves. See serves. Fufufu." He sure has a high opinion of his own routine scouting work. Maybe just 'adequate' is a high bar for him, these days, at which point... sure, maybe he deserves the extra treat, but some of those might look mighty tasty to Epsilon - he may have to assert himself before they're all gone! He presently offers no questions, by the grace of Mother, for hearing him talk is oft grating.
<Pose Tracker> Lady Harken has posed.
A phantom,
A ghost,
Mother's iron fist, wielding a cruel and terrible blade.
She who comes for young and poorly behaved Demons in their sleep.
Many are the rumours and the stories whispered among the Photosphere's more colorfully-minded individuals about the youngest of the four Quarter Knights, and her single-minded pursuit of the goal that has long eluded the beleaguered Hyadeans. They say that she dwells in pools of shadow that drench the corridors at night, flitting between inky resevoirs in search of the unfaithful and the slovenly. That when the lights flicker, you'd best look behind you, lest the Reaper strike you unawares. That her thirst for the blood of Humans knows no bounds, and that she stood atop the battlements of Adlehyde Castle a glistening, scarlet herald of the World's End.
They say a lot of things.
This is why it's positively disappointing when the door to the meeting room glides opens with a smooth hiss and a towering woman with hair the colour of dying embers stoops to enter, looking positively regal in matching silken tabard and monstrously heavy platemail. Unannounced. Unscheduled. Just kind of--here, looking at Riesenlied expectantly.
"I have not received any such ... disguise."
That Feel When your boss drops by to visit. And doesn't appear to want any of the snacks.
A cold and judgmental gaze sweeps across the room in the ensuing silence.
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
As the commander shifted her focus towards him, the Panther politely bows, his arm close to his chest as he replies with a bold voice. "I can say the same thing about you."
And so began further explanation on what was happening. Epsilon listed the details in his mind; their Holy Mother had been discovered, but she was still in torpor since the end of the war he was born several centures after. Thus, they acquired the Teardrop which would be used to awaken her, but there was a problem.
They needed to destroy some Guardian statues to complete her reawakening. Information would be needed. Disguises, on the other hand.
With the appearance of Lady Harken, Epsilon shifted his pupils towards the Quarter Knight before turning back to Riesenlied. "It would seem that disguises are indeed necessary for such a task. However, I, too, must voice my concern. I had received no such disguise to blend in with any humans, and with what features we have, it would make us far easier to stand out. How do you plan to counter that?"
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Instantly, Noeline straightens up to something more like attention and less slouching on her seat - at the same time, she can't hide the abject surprise at the sight of one of the Quarter Knights actually visiting Old Petra, and is instantly glad that Zed managed to get the Professor out of the encampment in time. She has a lot of common sense, after all, and a great deal of survival instinct.
At the same time she's /Noeline/, of all people, and someone very beloved of having her own way of doing things - primarily those things that come to her in a whim. She probably doesn't really mean to put on an amused sort of beaming grin and rather jauntily suggest: "I'm pretty sure we could find you one, ma'am," but it comes out on impulse anyway, and from there she just decides to go for it. "I don't know that you'd really be up for my sort of style, though."
"You don't necessarily have to look human in order to walk amongst them," she looks to Epsilon immediately afterwards with a shrug of one shoulder, still grinning pleasantly. "If you'd like, I've compiled some information on the different types of beastmen around on Filgaia - it might be that you can try to pass for one of them, in some respects. Others are open enough that they won't mind, so much as you're not openly hostile. There are no hard and fast rules," she adds with a hum.
"Well, except for 'don't lead people back here', I suppose."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied blinks a few times, before -- bowing her head gently, in deference to the Quarter Knight that has just walked in. Now this was a surprise... but then again, she's used to such surprises. It isn't as if she intends for her operations to become slovenly. She gives Noeline something approaching a warning look, before her wings flicker once or twice. "It is a good question. There are several options available."
She looks towards Epsilon and Yaro again, before saying, "If your natural chassis allows for it, you could seek the R&D department for disguise transformations. My subordinate Cetiri, of the Ebony Wings, will be able to provide you with templates. Otherwise, seek Kalve, who I understand is quite capable of creating hardlight disguises -- it should disguise your normal form and allow you to pass. As Noeline mentions, there are quite a lot of different species roaming around Filgaia's lands, so some give and take is possible."
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
The space that once occupied Yarobeleedt, suddenly, now appears to have been vacated entirely the very moment She speaks. Virtually all the snacks that have been taken and hoarded are neatly put back where they were first stol-- found. All but on-- Yarobeleedt's head peeks out of the table as he draws out something from the inside of his mouth. The foodstuff in question, against all reason and sense, is in pristine shape even as it graces melty hands and fingers that could charitably be referred to as 'slimy,' and that now it is a vehicle for 'cooties' which are now to be shared among all the other hoarded foodstuffs as he gently plops it back into the pile, as if trying to convince everyone that he is no longer there. He disappears under the table, to never be seen and heard from ever again until like five seconds later where he's trying to coil up and hide in Epsilon's shadow. One of his beady eyes peer out from behind him every so often, as to carefully track Lady Harken's head movements as he fails to hold back violent, fearful jitters.
<Pose Tracker> Lady Harken has posed.
All eyes are on Harken, even if only for a moment. The attention washes off of her without a beat of pause, though she meets each and every gaze as she paces evenly into the meeting room. Every echoing *TOK* of those heavy boots is perhaps a reminder that, someday, even the Quarter Knights should toss aside the Doom aesthetic and find a pair of comfy suedes.
"I would rather not be recognized by any idiot wanderers who were near enough to the castle when that fool King perished." is the woman's logic, delivered to Noeline cleanly and curtly, but not rudely. "If only for the tide of weaklings that would come rushing to prove something, and that would be a waste of our damn time."
Riesenlied's subservience, or at least her deference, is always a welcome palette cleanser to whatever madcap idiocy is happening outside of the Photosphere, though. The Quarter Knight smirks and folds her arms with a quiet rustling of silk sleeves. Quiet, in the moment that Yarobeleedt flees behind his fellow Demon and cowers. As he often does.
For her part, Harken still isn't sure /why/. She frowns and wrinkles her nose, voice rich with unhidden disdain. "I will ask Kalve for his input. What's wrong with him now?" a brief nod indicates the jittering, damaged demon. Oh god, is Epsilon guilty by association?
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
Give and take... As much as he detests the humans, Epsilon has to admit that they are capable of being an obstacle for his fellow demons. "Yes," he calmly replies to the statements of both Noeline and Riesenlied, taking another sip of his drink. "I will be sure to note those details. No matter the circumstances, we cannot let such disguises falter in their company."
The feline-eyed demon also eyes Yarobeleedt, looking down at the slimy demon with an expression to ensure that he's disappointed in such behavior. "Apologies," he says to Harken, after he averted his eyes back to the higher-up.
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
The Crimson Noble at Riesenlied's side does not push her luck too much further in response to Harken - possibly thanks to Riesenlied's glance, and possibly thanks to her own survival instincts - but does at least raise her eyebrows. "Fair points both, ma'am," she says in response to the Lady Harken, humming to herself with a grin. It isn't the best of ideas to keep calling attention to yourself when you're working both sides and harbouring a Medium inside of you, but then no-one ever claimed Noeline was particularly smart when it comes to the odd way she dances through life.
Besides, she /is/ genuinely around to be helpful, continuing her aside to the newcomer as she shrugs one shoulder. "I can provide significant amounts of information around each racial group out in the world at the moment, later - not to mention, I can provide some amount of warning as to those threats that can see around even the finest disguise. Suitably strong shamanistic sorts are liable to be able to pick you out from aura alone, for instance, which can make for a terribly exciting time."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied nods once more, before she presses the button again. There's a simplified diagram of Ignas and the divisions of its geopolitics -- presenting the kingdoms of Lacour, Aveh, and Adlehyde along with several cross-sections of known war borders. "With our objectives set, it is imperative that we speak about our enemies, the threats they present, and the importance, at this stage, of handling them with due caution."
She looks to the map and says, "As you might know, two human nations within Ignas -- Aveh and Kislev -- have been embroiled in a long war that has lasted for generations. More recently, this has troubling implications for us -- due to their desire to unearth ancient artifacts such as Gears and other powerful relics of the past. Many of these artifacts are in fact the remnants of our ancestors, who perished during the war a thousand years ago; whether Metal Demon ARMs or Dragon Fossils, we cannot allow them to fall into the hands of humans. My personal duty aside from logistics, under the flag of the Ebony Wings, in fact, is to hunt the many operations around the continent and shut them down. There are an astonishing amount -- black market rings, underground trafficking channels; these are all ripe for us to eliminate."
She presses another button, which shows an aerial warship with a slight aquatic theme. "During our Operation in Gungnir, we encountered unexpected resistance: Aveh's allies, a military group known as Gebler. Up until now, their capabilities were not known to us, but suffice to say they have aerial deployment capabilities that rival our own, and a host of Sorcery-capable troops. I needn't emphasise that they are a great threat to our operation, and any information you can gather about Gebler shall be highly rewarded."
The screen shifts again, showing banners of the Althenan Guard. "Our other major adversary is the Althenan Guard, a religious group that has arrived from our orbiting moon, Lunar. Recently, they've announced their intention to safeguard Adlehyde, so they've the upper hand in public opinion at present. Much like Gebler, they too possess sorcerers and other abilities that prove a threat to us. Please approach them with caution, and much like Gebler, any and all information you can gather on the Guard is vital to the continued success of our own plans."
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
The cowardly slug-butted butthead shakes his head violently as Epsilon gives that disdainful glare. His elongated fingers press so tightly against one another that he might even be this close to permanently fusing them together. It is begging. Pleading! That he doesn't bring attention towards him. It is beyond pathetic. Absolutely no one would think ill of Epsilon forcefully removing him from his presence, as a layer of something that approximates human sweat forms going down his face, to drip down onto the floor of the meeting room and leave hissing, smoky droplets of his presence on contact. The Quarter Knights command utmost respect of all Metal Demons. Each are capable of imparting fear, as befitting of their station and might. Siegfried's clarity of purpose and leadership. Berserk's unmatched bloodlust and power. Alhazred's brilliance and morbid curiosity. Of the newest among the Quarter Knights... whatever it is, something about her inspires... something more, in that one. 'That one,' Yarobeleedt, is so insignificant as to maybe not be worth further note. A 'something more' is wasted upon him. This could be taken as yet another one of his many marks against his worth, when an important briefing is going down concerning future operations under the scrutiny of humans now at full alert.
<Pose Tracker> Lady Harken has posed.
It does not appear that Yaro's cowardice has stained Epsilon permanently, judging from the way Harken's glare only lasts for a few moments. Perhaps this is just how she displays mild confusion. "Save your apologies for when you truly falter, and hone yourself such that you don't." it is at once a correction, admonishment, and suggestion. But it's not a finishing blow, and she doesn't sound upset. Thus, everything is clearly okay.
The Quarter Knight has since strode slowly past Yarobeleedt and his hiding place as the briefing continues. Perhaps the fact that she isn't armed to the teeth is some small comfort to him. "That is correct," Harken commends Noeline, despite the fact that hiding perpetually clearly sounds boring as sin to her. "But turn it around on them." she comes to a halt, pointing at the frilled, playful Crimson Noble and meeting her gaze. Yes, you are being judged.
"Wield that aura as a weapon, and paralyze them with fear."
Again on the move. Around the table, now, glancing up again to the display. Harken wrinkles her nose at the arcid smell of smoke from beneath the table, either wholly unaware or choosing not to show any recognition of whatever strange awe her presence inspires in Yarobeleedt. Which is mean, you'd think terrified reverence would be worth more.
And as if none of the matters of Gebler, the Guard, Lunar matter to her, the Quarter Knight pipes up as soon as Riesenlied has finished her sentence.
"What of the fools who challenged us atop the castle? I have yet to see any names put to those faces."
Oh, so that's what's important, huh.
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
Yes, there are sure to be those who could tell a demon from a human, simply through their aura. A problem, indeed. The words surrounding Aveh and Kislev's war disgust him; humans are not allowed to set their hands upon the remains of his brethren! What's more is that they have more of an opposition in the form of Gebler and the Althenan Guard.
And Harken has brought up the subject of other enemies. Who are they, indeed?
<Pose Tracker> Noeline has posed.
Noeline does not chip in, this time, only tilting her head again in Lady Harken's direction as she makes her decree. It is more out of politeness than anything - she is a spy first and foremost, after all, well-aware that she can't exactly go flaunting her status as a Metal Demon without seriously hampering what she does. On the other hand, Lady Harken is a general, and most of the Hyadeans at Old Petra are soldiers. It's just a matter of different priorities, in the end.
"... ah... there is a good chance I can probably identify some of them, if you can provide me descriptions. That said, I wasn't aware we were making specific targets out of them," she adds with just a little in the way of thoughtfulness, curious about how far this strand can be tugged. Berserk she would have expected to be on-board with personal grudges, but Lady Harken feeling the same way is something of a curious surprise.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied doesn't seem so surprised, on the other hand. "Yes... there are plenty of Drifters that have risen as persons of interest. Above all, do not underestimate them. Though they do not have the formal cohesion of the enemy factions I've spoken of, they are still capable of many surprises -- they wield Sorcery in styles that exceed expectation, and master the use of various kinds of martial arts and ARMs. As Noeline says, Lady Harken, if you'd like to forward descriptions, we can continue this offline."
'continue this offline' she says, like she's conducting a corporate meeting argggggg
"But it isn't all grim," Riesenlied has a topic shift. "South of the Photosphere, there are the Veruni Control Zones. For the longest time, we haven't had contact with them... but I am pleased to inform that both Lord Siegfried and Sir Volsung have solidified an agreement between us and the Veruni. We are to work with their agents and share our resources, as they already graciously have for us, in the form of a Golem core from our last dig. If you see one of their agents, please be respectful -- they are much in a similar situation as we are."
"And, while they are far more enigmatic, we also have sorcerous support in the form of the Crucible. Chief amongst them, you would have known them as the Pyrewitch, Agatha, and the Trial Knight, K.K. Their insight and expertise in sorcerous and mystical matters are likely to prove invaluable as we make our push inland to the west, as I expect we will have to sooner or later."
She pauses, and then shuts the projector as she states, "That is all for the overview. If you'd like to ask any further questions, or have any concerns, please feel free to voice them now..." she pauses, then looks to Yaro with a soft, gentle sigh that almost seems to look like a concerned mother's than a commander's.
"Yaro. It's all right. You can come out now. Come here."
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
As Lady Harken strides around Epsilon, Yarobeleedt displays an admirable and even kind of silly flexibility with the way he contorts himself around Epsilon's person just to try and avoid having any part of himself be visible to Lady Harken's passing gaze - well, as best as he can manage. Even for his reputation, this is overdoing it! All the while, he adds an unwelcome underlying vocal accompaniment of nervous utterances as he settles once more underneath the table, which continues until he is addressed once again by the Commander. Lying on his back, his face inches out from underneath as he stares up towards the exasperated commander whose patience and mercy may be the only thing that has stopped him from being thrown into a recycler at this point. (There probably have been several attempts already.) His beady little eyes are pointed off in different, unfocused directions, as if looking to jump right out of his face in search of... Her. "N-No humans in high ding here! Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes." Who would ever believe that excuse?! "Because afraid of Yarobeleedt!"
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
The Veruni... Yes, Epsilon remembers them; There was a conflict between the Metal Demons and the Veruni years ago, which he himself had participated in to defend the Photosphere from them. They were now allies, decades after that battle. Was the situation with the Guardians on their agenda as well? The Panther bats an eyelash at the report, but makes not the slightest move to retort once the commander states they are to be treated with respect.
He simply nods to Riesenlied calmly, choosing to ignore Yarobeleedt's antics. "Yes, ma'am. I understand."
<Pose Tracker> Lady Harken has posed.
Poor Noeline, possibly never having really brushed shoulders with the Big H at length before, has some learning to do about her priorities. About that curious intersection between duty and desire. About what the dangerous hint of a chuckle means, from this particular messenger. That the frosty countenance is starting to break into a smile is maybe more dangerous than the stony gaze that preceded it. "Oh~? I think there are /very/ specific targets..."
Thus, Harken's gaze falls on Riesenlied. She threatens to haul the briefing backwards with her careless fixation on certain Drifters, and seems to thrive (just a little) on the way Riesenlied tries to gently palm this matter off to a later date. "The green-haired dancer with the ebb of death in her fists. Zed's blonde friend with the big mouth. All of their friends. You spent time with them, surely you would know where to go looking...?"
Just a little squeeze, that's all. The Lady General returns her gaze to Epsilon, while Yaro exhaustedly finds some measure of comfort in Riesenlied's patience. "Oh, but I'm sure you'll come to see what I mean, soon enough. Try to come back in one piece, take them lightly at your peril."
Just the best leadership. Really great stuff.
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"No humans, no," Riesenlied encourages Yarobeleedt, patting him on his... 'head', or something approximating the closest presence to his head. It's a little hard to tell at times. "I'm sure they'd be afraid of you." Riesenlied has, indeed, probably requested specifically that Yaro not be sent to the recycler, much like how she's asked for other 'defective' demons to be sent to her instead.
"Zed's friend... I believe you speak of Claude? And the green-haired girl... I'm not quite certain," she squints, in thought. "They would still be present around Adlehyde, Lady Harken. In particular..." she hesitates just for a moment. "I imagine a number of them would be interested in the upcoming Lacour Tournament of Arms. It is a martial contest the humans are holding amongst themselves."
That might've been a bad idea, but she'll find out /anyway/. It's like their favorite trending tag. Their only one, outside of #Mother and #KillAllHumans.
<Pose Tracker> Yarobeleedt has posed.
She speaks again. Eyes freeze after turning so fast that they might disconnect themselves from their blessed little Metal Demon eyestalks. Riesenlied's almost parent-like appeasing to that part of him that continues to seek endless adulation and respect for what he is evaporates at a moment's notice, within the blink of an eye. Maybe even less than a blink. There is empty air as she reaches out to pat his head. Some rustling underneath the table. Based on the silhouette of a building mound, it seems like Yarobeleedt has found it in himself to burrow underneath the reinforced protective floor. This is a feat. He says something that sounds kind of angry, but it is muffled.
<Pose Tracker> Epsilon has posed.
Of course one of his ilk had to foolish enough to have acquainted with a human... Still, whether it matters or not, there is a name among the list of Drifters. Perhaps it would prove useful in the struggle to follow. One of the problems the demons have is that a portion of the humans are now aware of their lingering presence.
"I have no objections. I'll kindly carry out the orders on the matter."