*From the dark chamber whence Dr. Octavia finds her days, an eerie blue mist seeps forth from the floor as the vault cracks wide. For a time nothing happens. Then…a flutter of activity as a dozen or more skittering necro-bots race off in a myriad of directions in an apoplectic fit of sound and action. From the lip of the trencherman’s chamber, a sullen figure watches with talons clasped*
*Each in turn of the toaster sized bots seeks out its assignment across the width and breath of varied lands, and places. One for EACH member of the house, wherever they might currently be found, or otherwise engaged, a droid eventually finds them. With each they invariably corner their specified quarry, and deliver the same haunting message.*
*Some droids find themselves in back alley abattoirs, while others in sweaty bedrooms, some in distant mountain retreats, and some in hallowed school halls. One droid is even found perched over a soup bowl in a chic restaurant before an astonished and frightened room of diners.*
*But no matter where, with each visit, a full sized holograph of Dr. Octavia finds itself shimmering before the surprised viewer and their associates.*
"Greeting to you my Sisters of Sigma Iota Nu…Faculty, Staff, and Students.
Please forgive my intrusion, but the time has come to set my opprobrious behavior toward a fellow peer to right. I come to you in remorse, seeking absolution for my sin against a valued and beloved member of our community.
I of course speak of Dr. Tod.
I need not speak of the good doctor’s genius, or value. It is clearly evident. Such words are a useless and servile blandishment that cannot but help detract from an otherwise indispensable and autodidactic talent.
And yet with the closeness of such wisdom, and in such bounty… I was driven to distraction. Such pure inspiration, that I found myself enraptured and ensnared by its sheer poetry. And in that, I sought by fell methods that which would have otherwise been freely given. *a shame-filled tone*
I sought to steal a glimpse of that mind, an in that violated our sacred trust.
Dr. Tod was entirely correct to inveigh and berate me for my folderol and clumsy larceny. It is to her and to you my beloved sisters, that I offer this my deepest of contrition for my egregious trespass.
*Dr. Octavia shifts her gaze back up now*
In 1077, Henry the IV the Holy Roman Emperor had sinned against his Pope and thence his God. Henry was a proud man, not made to suffer lightly the bindings of penury. But he did so for the trust of his lands, and the love of his Lord. Henry spent three days in the cold winter streets of the fortress town of Canossa, fasting, and scourging himself until the pope, Gregory the VII saw fit to open his doors of the keep and receive him back into the Lord’s presence. In the end, Henry led the pope’s burro through the streets of Canossa, as the people cheered and heaven was reconciled.
I am a proud creature, but I am not so proud as to not lead your honored mule Doctor.
*and then with all sincerity she hisses *
Please forgive me, Greta."
*With that, the image of Dr. Alice Octavia bows her head, and the hologram slowly fades.*
*...and somewhere out there, a waiter in a south Florida restaurant faints.*
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Dia is startled by the small spiderling bounding up upon the desk where she is transcribing her class notes. She makes as to brush it away, then her hand stops as the hologram plays.
....
"Well. That's ... an efficient way to deliver a message. A little metal golem. Interesting stuff, this 'technomancy'."
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Alistaire is in the midst of a shower when the spiderling interrupts her, and she reacts as any 21-year-old SoCal moneybrat would.
She screams her head off, dives out of the shower, grabs a pistol out of the holster hung on the bathroom door, and empties the clip at the little robot, swearing invectives the whole time.
The hologram still plays... although there are large gaps and stutters in the playback. Once it's finished, she just stands there, dripping wet, the Sig-Sauer 9mm semiauto held in a slack grip, as the damaged spiderling attempts to limp its way back to its mistress with a cracked casing and only 3 of its legs still functioning. Her hand raises, then jerks, the barrel sticking out of the front of the gun, slide locked back, as she tries to fire a round that's not there.
-Kelli-
The young woman looks at the spider as it finishes playing its message, hair dissheveled as she turns to the albino with glowing green eyes next to her. "...How come Doctod gets a spider apology thing and I get bitchy hisses and threats? This sucks."
She turns over and goes back to sleep.
--Charisma--
Watches the spider enter the museum behind her with some curiosity from her elevated perch off of the floor. "Mrow?" She says to herself as the image sputters to life. "Very, very interesting..." She muses as the sounds of alerted security rush down the hall. She draws her daggers, and grins. "Purrrfect...sneaking is was boring anyways!" She lunges, a whirlwind of black spandex and grey steel.
Downstairs in the small room she had commandeered these last couple of days, Allisendre stops her work when the small spider settles down upon the table where she was busily at work.
As the holographic image appears, she slowly sets down the vial she had been holding. The color begins to drain from her face as she listens, one hand coming to clench the edge of the worktable, supporting herself as the world begins to spin.
All her work.. her plan! Her brilliant, glorious, sure-to-succeed plan! How could she choose to bury the hatchet with the Doctor now? All that work...
She looks at all that work; her grand finale, if you will. The bodies, over a dozen, scattered abotu the room. The cow! She looks across the room at the large bovine standing placidly in the corner, tied to a bed post. The animal looks back at her, as the low keening moan begins to turn into a manic giggle.
"So much work...." she cries out at the holograph as it finally finishes its message and winks out. Sleep had barely been visited upon her since agreeing to the contest, painting day and night, barring the occasional meeting with her sisters, and the field trip the night before. She looks at the little spider as the world seems to grow fuzzy. Is it getting closer? So much effort in her plan.... Yes, it is growing closer.
From out in the hallway, the crazed laughter can be heard shifting into a low wail of utter hopelessness as the swoon settles upon Allisendre. As can be the soft crack of her head striking the edge of the table, sending the spider skittering back a measure of inches; which is in turn followed by the heavy thud of her body striking the floor amongst the twisted bodies of her last, brilliant idea. Silence reigns for a minute as she comes to rest bonelessly in the pile.
The spiderling exits out the door and continues on down the hall.
(( Crap! Now what will Sandre do, her grand finale in tatters? Peace with Greta means no interest in revenge. No interest in revenge means no appreciation for the final meal. *laughs* Poor Sandre indeed! Now the question is, will she wallow in dispair, or will she try to cook up an alternative? ))
In a small, nameless faux-bistro in Panama City Beach, Florida, a pair of lightly tanned, needle-like fingers turn pages in the local paper, investigating wedding announcements with unwholesome intent, when a smallish, spidery appendage tips the paper down, almost politely for the emotionless creature.
The reader stops, leaning back in an overstuffed leather chair, and tents her fingers daintily, watching the shimmering message display from behind smoked wireframe glasses. She offhandedly admires the composition of the tiny construct with one part of her supercomputer mind, taking the message in with the rest, and when the tiny diode of light clicks off, she claps her hands together once, a razored smile crossing painted black lips.
There is a beep, and an elegant cellular phone, splattered with blood and emblazoned with 'Tracy', clicks on.
"Manuel? Yes, it's me. I believe I'll be cutting my trip short. Ten minutes. You -do- want your sister back, yes? Excellent. You've been most cooperative. Ta."
On her way out of the bistro, Greta bend on one knee, neatly severing the carotid artery of the felled waiter, before her visage folds into itself like sentient origami, simply vanishing from mundane eyes. A quietly warm voice intones, "Fifty," and stiletto heels click down the warm, empty streets, towards the airstrip, a hauntingly cheerful whistle on their edge. Its hollow nature makes it hard to discern, but, one could be certain if one listened for more than a moment, that the walls echoed Sinatra's "My Way".
Thessa sniffs curiously at the spider robot, as it hadn't attacked or interacted with her besides follow her around Isles as she fed from a recent kill.
Thessa bows lightly towards the holographic Dr. Octavia, but soon realizes it isn't real. She kneels and watches, listening to the words, and watching Dr. Octavia's face with each change in tempo and tone.
Once it is all over, Thessa smiles brightly, grinning like a girl who has found her lost doll, "Yay! Dr. Octavia and Dr. Tod can be friends again!" She yips, causing a few Arachnos wolf spiders to run in attacking.
Thessa growls loudly at the sudden and unwanted attack, protecting the spidery robot, "I was ENJOYING THIS!!"
Arana turns from E! where she was desperately trying to learn fashion from a show Ms Fairchild told her to watch. She did not understand why they were called "The Girls Next Door" since they did not live next door to her at the sorority house, but she did want to please her teacher. She looked over the spider bot with a comforted smile, then listened to the message. "Interesting..." she mused to herself petting the spider like someone might a dog.
---------------
She was impressed, the bot had been keeping up with her. She knew it didn't want her dead, she had seen these things armed before and it wasn't opening fire. She was however, in the middle of a RUN.
She lept from the roof of the old building and tucked her arms close to her body, spinning like a corkscrew in the air as she defied gravity. A smile crossed her lips as she curled up into a ball and landed behind the Goldbricker sneaking up the roof hatch of the lab. She unfurled her body in a single rolling motion and brought one gladius along his achilles tendons, the other severing the straps to his rocketpack.
"Thanks. You just saved me the trouble of stealing the crystal myself..." she stood hefting one of the worlds first basketball sized artificial diamonds in her hand. Her eyes turned to the spider bot which played it's message. "Well...that makes things less tense."
She slid the gem into her backpack and took off to continue her RUN!
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