Boan smiled back and waved at the maids, it has been a while for him to see some actual decent woman, the ones he saw so far is a half broken robot, a rash girl who in all honesty shouldn't have been a tactician and other who lost her voice. Seeing that the food were not poisoned, Boan returned to his seat.

Boan frowned when his name was not mentioned, "What about me?"

I don't know where I am. Prison?

--------------------------

Topo eyed the man, and complied with his request.

He grumbled, "What is this place?"

"So, what you're basically saying is that you want me as your tactician or at least your advisor?". Sona pushed her chair back and stood up. "If you'll allow me, I need some time think about it.". She walked away from the table, walking down a random hallway. Sona used to walk when she had to think about something, as it helped her think. On one hand, another rebellion to plan for in such a short time would be hard on her, and although with more troops this time, she still wasn't sure she would be able to beat her opponent again. On the other hand, should she decline the offer, she would be forced to live in the clockworks, in the harsh wild. Sona knew from previous experience that she wasn't a good survivor in these cases, and that'd she'd struggle to live, and the inclusion the the Spiral Order hunting her down would make it a living hell.

As she kept weighing her options and chances of success in both situations, her train of thought was interrupted by familiar shouting. She followed the source to what she assumed to be the courtyard of the castle to see Max and Solomon sparring. She took a seat near a wall, trying not to disturb the two who were in fierce battle. She studied each of their styles of combat as she sat near the doorway in silence.

Tifa stopped rolling around and with her back towards the group -- seemingly looking at a painting -- once Lady Grey's intentions for the members of the group had been relayed by Teach. Even the noting about Boan was recorded, despite Teach relaying it yet.
While Tifa was not designed to be extremely adept at hearing, her inventor did recognise the potential threat of people approaching Tifa while she was hacking, and so her hearing (once powered directly) was quite good.

With her hearing receptors taking uo 70% of her processing usage (with 20% for visual, and the remaining 10% for movement and other processes) she had heard "S-- th-s: You -re my m---le. --ot--t my ag---s w-th y--r life." followed by "--ease keep -n eye -- -im for me. --l the ----s --dic-- he is the C-----ial --biter."

She would, of course, hear the actual information afterwards, but she was no longer concerned with the information that would come. All she was interested in was what Teach had already translated. And it wasn't even the bit about herself.

'Fos - I requested to rescue prisoners of another dimension.'

Dimensional travel. Due to the fact she had requested an alchemist for this purpose, Tifa assumed he would act as a gateway of sorts. Also, when it came to dimensions, there was only one piece of information that Tifa had within her. The Underworld.
This information had been implemented by her Master, due to the fact that her initial mission was to recover his experiments with details on heavily modified transportation runes, ones specialized in sending audible transmissions. Inter-dimensional phones, if you will. Along with some data of his experiments which he had presumably remembered off of memory, he had noted how the Underworld was actually one of the easier locations to link to.

She did not have all the information required, just simply conjecture. But Tifa went ahead with her guess regardless, and addressed Lady Grey.

"You wish for us to go to the [Bzzt] Underworld to rescue other prisoners?" Tifa turned her head to look towards the lady of the fortress. Her eyes had returned to their usual light as she returned her voice-receptors to thier normal power-usage. For an instant, however, her Blue, Orbital eyes were replaced by what appeared to be a set of Red Giga Shades. Only those paying attention to her face would see this, however.

Sona waved back after being spotted. She stood up and walked over to the two and asked, "Mind if I spar with you guys?"

A moment of quiet hit the alchemist as he took in her words.

To bring back other prisoners, from another dimension.

Only one thing came to mind, mostly his ramblings when he was more crazy then as appose to now. Still it hit, The souls live on.

At once the Alchemist broke down laughing like he was a moon crazed loon. His body twitching at remembering his old foe still lived and she wanted him back, yet a moment of excitement rushed over his body as he wanted to test his stranght now as a pose to the many moons they have been apart. A wide smiled came as he looked at the woman once more.

"Lady, you got my blood running, I thing I will do that. However to do that kinda transmutation I am going to need his notes, as well as the circle and items used in the Transmutation, also lets not forget the price, bodies, people we can send in there place. The souls where taken but not the bodies. Sure we can send souls down there at a cheap cost, but it's more effective and cheaper to send souls and bodies down to get souls and bodies back. As appose to just getting the souls. Just getting the souls, thats going to cost more then the full bundle. Assuming, that is, that we can even get the right people. It's a gable and we would need one of them down there to reconize whats going on and complete it on there end."

A dark twitching smile came to his face. His eyes having a more sinister hue as he spoke.

"To which, one of them would."

[REDACTED]

((I thought it best wait until the recovery mission so that my character's position is definite and there's no scramble to try and get him there, which is why I thought the ritual would be the best way to get him into the story without any shark jumping! :D))

((I also expect recovery to happen in one big post by Darkwatck once the Lady gives his character the proper supplies needed, so no ninja'ds would occur. This minimizes any required edits. I also thought it would be best to give him the information so that no unexpected twists come along. Other things weigh into this, but all-in-all, I thought it best to prepare ahead rather than prepare late. ^ ^))

@Thinslayer
Remember when I said that I'd need 30 posts to see where the story would be headed? (Here?)

The story continued after I posted there, starting with #327 27 minutes after my post in your thread... And the last bit of story related to the Prisoner Group was the information you supplied in #357, from yourself. To which I replied. Since you figure we're thinking along the same lines... It may be more true than you know.

The difference between those posts was all I needed. As I said, I only needed 30 posts to know where the story was headed.

Now then. I must ask... Do you plan on making Dr. G. Reaver a character within the RP, or shall I simply continue using him in Tifa's dialogue? Or... Perhaps you're waiting on me to make him?

((In that case, I'll just change the bio to make this character more accurate.))

Redaction is in order then. That may mess with the original plot I've recently uncovered. I'll join when I can fix the app a little bit...

EDIT: Well that was easy to fix by just taking out one sentence... xD
EDIT 2: After reconsideration, the app will be redacted.

Sona walked over picked up a practice sword. The hilt felt right at home in her hand, as she was always holding onto a blade or pen we she was a tactician. She swung the sword a little bit to get a hold of its weight. A little unbalanced, but it would do. "So, who wants a go?"

"If you think you're quick enough on your feet." Sona replied slyly. She took a defensive pose and finished, "I'll let you have the first swipe."

Sona, wanting to play a bit defensively, threw a taunt at Solomon. "No, no, I insist. Like you said, ladies first!"

No, no- I'm just at a loss for what to say.

Topo glanced at the guy, "Every man for himself, but I'll try my best. And there ARE surprisingly little guards. You got a plan?

Teach nods, and without even allowing TIFA a pause, shoves her here and there a ways down the halls...

...halls he had stormed through long ago. The upholstering, once in tatters by the stampede he and his allies had made as they pushed back the enemy so far, settled uncomfortably in his mind with refurbishments to remind him that this was a haven unto itself indeed.

What was it? A gentle slope down to the lower floors, a left into the corridors, and then a right...right? Empty bunks, he last recalled, were the quarters when he first ran in. As he passed by the candle-lit room, he slowed just to see how the men and women went about their businesses, when people actually lived there.

Those were the maids' and butlers' quarters. He had to go farther.

Out the back door he went, passing by ghosts of battlements and barricades, now just gentle dips in the gravel lot.

Did that many bodies fit in this place? Was it possible? Everyone was running forward, to their deaths. All ducking, hopping, sprinting, all eager to try and cut down one more of her Knights before they were wiped away.

Teach didn't resent Grey; he just wondered why would Ozlo throw an asset with that much power away. Even then, the handiwork was sloppy; his target was now his accomplice. It was nice, to have an old mentor for a change.

Too bad no one here would remember his face, one of many, when they all wore their helms visor-down. A storm of lances and blades failed miserably, but given a little time, a little piece, and he was walking as of one of Grey's.

Thunk!

If not for TIFA's near-immobile body acting as a buffer on wheels, he would've walked into the door.

Teach backed up a few steps, and peeked over TIFA's shoulder.

"...is your foot bent? I was thinking about something, so I didn't notice."

((Found this to be good writing music))

Noel stood outside the gate, and held onto it tightly. It was here, he could sense it. A path of hints and riddles led him here, and as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself and shoved the gate open, he felt the chains resonate against his skin even when they hit the ground. This would be the only way to get to them in time, to save them before they made some stupid mistake. He had nothing to lose, his belief in the new gods of this metallic world and their willingness to draw him closer to the truth he sought kept him strong.

Noel knew he would not die, like so many other times. Each time, they interrupted him, each time giving him another clue to follow up on where he came from, and who it was he was really serving. Himself, or some obscure entity in the pits of this world.

He walked, barefoot, into the chamber, and found the carcass of a dead Snarbolax on the ground. But this one was different, empty, as if the soul within had ran off, and taken the very possibility of life out of it. He kicked it in curiosity, and the cadaver broke into dust, blowing off into the vents that roared so loudly. He shook his head, and moved deeper.

He found pictures of prophecies permeating the walls, glowing and scratched into their surfaces. A buzzing sound could be heard deeper within the chamber, and he followed it. His cloak fluttered around his bare form, a Calibur held at his side. His innocent blue eyes flickered in and out of the shadows of beams overhead, and dust flew down the chamber.

Flies, or particles, buzzed against the walls, and sparks of magenta jumped from them at random, like fire. When he approached, they backed away, but he could feel the images of eyes manifesting themselves, that stared down the hall at him. There was sympathy in them, as if this entity that filled their tiny bodies was remorseful at what this stranger in this hallway would have to go through in order to know the truth, like it knew.

Noel would have challenged it, but it had no mouth, and it had no face, and would shrink back into the walls it had come from. Yet, he felt something else...

No matter, such creatures of filth could not give this feeling off. It was his imagination...

As he reached the end of the hallway, he found the flies crawling together in disgusting masses, forming the same creatures. Zombies, Gremlins, Slimes, Lumbers, and Wolvers, all a disgusting black with a magenta that glowed from some inner furnace in their eyes. They charged him, tried to get the upper hand in numbers. But with one swing of his Calibur, their bodies slid off their lower halves, and bounced against the ground, dissipating. But from piles of the particles, some kind of sick breeding ground, they formed themselves again. And again, one swing took them down.

The sincerity of his mission was enough to cut them all down, one blessed swing after another. This effected only the filthiest of creatures, and these happened to be the exact same grime that he seemed to encounter more than he'd have preferred over the course of his pilgrimages.

He reached the end of the hall, where a chasm separated him from the next elevator. But the elevator was not his goal, the power of this entity was. And it happened to be right below, in swirling vortices of boiling black. He knew this was the way, his Calibur tugged him to continue. And so as he crossed the white bridge that was manifested itself between the chasm, he jumped, falling into the vortex below.

And he fell through time, because the Swarm was infinite, aging in both directions of time.

Part 2: Manifest

Noel stood up in the emptiness of a dirty landscape, a tower out in the distance. This was where they were. Would be? Bah, time shenanigans, the hole would be patched up soon. He'd have to find a way back later, but if he could peek into the future, there might be a clue, something hidden. But he'd have to help them first, of course. Death is not linear, but permanent. If he let them die...

Would he even be worth the secrets held?

Despite this, he adjusted the hood back over his head, and headed off toward the tower. This too shall pass. He dragged his Calibur across the ground, a cloud of dust running across the landscape and signaling his approach. Those off in the distance would find him. And he hoped they weren't idiotic enough to let him in with a warm welcome either. Where's the fun in that?

He smirks, squinting at the building, and carries on.

[Apologies for the theatrics, though I thought some power source would be needed for such shenanigans. And since the Core is always sealed, I figured that something more abstract would be needed because of its continuity in the timeline. I also got kind of excited to begin writing again...]

[Did I do something incorrect? Is redaction in order? I wrote it kind of on the fly...]

[[ I found the best way to prevent those is to just go "Ctrl + A" then "Ctrl + C", then post. And if you forget to do that... Just click the Back button to get back to what you wrote. You won't be able to post it without being properly logged on, but that can be accomplished just by making a new tab, Logging In properly, THEN posting it.

The steps I use when I forget to A&C and get the error are:

1. Press the back button (only one at a time) until I get back to a Comment box with what I wrote in it. (Thus far, my writing has always been in at least one (either on the thread, or in the preview).
2. For safety, press "Ctrl + A" and "Ctrl + C" in case something goes wrong.
3. Open up a new tab, and come back to the forums.
4. Log back on (because Account Logging is usually the problem) in said new tab.
5. In the new tab use "Ctrl + P" in the thread you planned on commenting in originally. Same with the Subject.
6. After everything's copied and transcribed, close the original, Non-Logged-In tab, and post the comment with your new, Actually-Logged-In tab.

Too bad about that lost post, though... Nothin' to do for it if you've already closed the window, though.]]

Jolt thought a few moments before continuing his small speech. "Something we may want to get started with is getting me some new armor. Thanks to Julius, mine is pretty useless... Perhaps my benefactors, the Rereward household, will have something I can swipe out of their compound. It will be difficult as they are usually having house parties that fill the place, but I know my way around very well. I will need a hand here and there, and I must ask you, Julius, to help me out. Having the only other cloak and very defensive gear will make you the best for the job." Jolt paused a moment, recalling the floor plan. Such a place couldn't have changed much in the last years, could it have? "Unless there are any objections, I suggest we head there right away, as there may be more that could help us than just a set of armor for me. What say you, Amie?"

((Could the other rebels be introduced too?))

Reference

"Shall we?" Jolt drew his Magnum (with the joy that Amie and her crew picked up his fallen gear) and fired a shot at the gate, damaging it considerably. The two jogged toward it, swords at the ready and finished smashing their way through the door, one sword stroke each. Recons 1, door 0. "Well, I thought we'd be getting a welcoming committee of some sort..."

Jolt remembered the place being like a city, never sleeping. Yet this was eerily empty. As the two continued on, Jolt felt a strange foreboding that got stronger every time he noticed something substantial broken, like a mantlepiece shattered or a dining table cracked and burned. These were not the usual 'casualties' of the rowdiness that accompanied Viking-esque house parties in the Rereward compound. Something happened here, and no one was left. "Julius, something is wrong here...very wrong. We should be fighting for our lives, but no one is here to fight...what could have happened to them?!" Jolt whispered.

They made their way to the master of the house's chambers. It felt extremely strange creeping through such an empty place, expecting guards to attack at any moment, or alarms to make unwanted noise. Once in the master's wing, the desolation became much more evident in the form of shredded upholstry, shattered mirrors, and the burned hulk of what used to be the great four-poster bed of ironwood and redwood that the master slept in. The family crest, however, remained above the bed on the wall: the Almond Blossom was nearly untouched, as if by a miracle.

Jolt started perusing some papers and holofiles on the great polished driftwood desk to see if he could find any information; even if nothing else of value could be found, that could be a start. Julius began to look around on his own.