View source for Enter Doctor Max - RPLOG

=Participants=
* [[Bao]]
* [[Fenris]]
* [[Flora]]
* [[Rokarion]]
=Date=
6/8/478
=Log=
<div></div><br> <br>The boxy Creator ship has been sitting there in the tourney field for over an hour now, with no signs of anyone or anything emerging from it. The crowd that had gathered has mostly dispersed, the majority of beings unwilling to miss out on their daily livelyhoods for a spectacle that may or may not even happen. Maybe the ship is just lost and trying to get its bearings? It is a rather ugly thing too, not sleek and exciting like Jetstream&#39;s ship was, and far too small to be a one of Harkonson&#39;s merchant vessels. It is actually a lot like the scholar ships that have visited recently, but without any adornment or decoration. And it is just SITTING there.<br> <br>Flora blinks a few moments as she watches the tournament-field from a distance, seated on the back of her usual golem, Bastet, and watching the beings scurry off. Her ears flick lightly, and soon enough, curiousity gets the better of her, the feline steering her golem over towards the vessel gently.<br> <br>Bao is at loose ends, for once having no requests from any of the various organizations that call on his services. Even Ser&#39;ther has been quiet. While he probably ought to enjoy the quiet day with a restful swim, the draw of a creator ship is too much to resist. The sea lion arrives on foot, wearing his usual &#39;city&#39; mix of functionally-cut noble garb.<br> <br>Rokarion was just coming back into Firmament, a pouch in hand filled with some herbs he was collecting in the Eastbank Foret before his eyes catch the docked Creator ship. Wondering who it was this time, the plant being shifted his direction towards the tournament grounds. <br> <br>The milling crowd has thinned down to only a few, stalwart ship watchers and the vendors that take advantage of impromptu crowd entertainment have moved along to more promising locales when the vessel&#39;s rear hatch disengages with a loud HISS of air. Probably air elementals escaping. Who knows why Creators do things. 

The hatch opens slowly and a ramp extends with the accompanying chirps and warbles of helpful machine spirits to warn beings away from the landing area. After the ramp has set itself in place, a Creator, rather larger and bulkier than most that the beings of Promise have seen so far steps out and looks over the gathered crowd. He (Well, it is probably a he) nods and his lips move as he passes some communication back to those still inside the ship.<br> <br>Flora blinks a few times as she watches the vessel, steering her golem around the crowd to get a good look of the entire vessel from various angles, while her tail sways lazily from side to side as she keeps a close eye on the large, bulky creator.<br> <br>Spirits, Bao has gotten (slightly) more comfortable with. Creators still weird him out. He wonders what this one wants, but is neither confident nor pushy enough to ask. The sea lion does, though, move closer to the ship.<br> <br>The big Creator walks down the ramp and simply stares around at the few beings still gathered. He squints in the sunlight momentarily before producing a pair of shaded glasses, and slips it on. It only makes sense that Creators would have such a luxury item readily available. 

Behind him, another group comes down the ramp. Two more burly Creator men in identical uniforms flank some sort of small chair that hovers about two feet off the ground and is pushed along by an enormous Bull being, also wearing a Creator uniform. In the chair sits a small, child like figure.<br> <br>Rokarion enters the tournament ground as the ship&#39;s ramp opens, rubbing his chin as he eyes the thin crowd before looking back at the hunk of a creator, the plant being never knew they also had their own heavy folk. <br> <br>Flora blinks a few more times, her eyes cast towards the smaller figure with far more curiosity than the bulky creators. After all, there was only one of the former, while several of the latter are present.<br> <br>Bao tilts his head curiously. It&#39;s clearly a guard of some sort--it&#39;s hard to mistake the scene-scanning and careful flanking for anything other than protection. Who is it that&#39;s being protected? And why on Promise have they come? Knowing so little of the Creators, Bao continues to hold his tongue.<br> <br>Rokarion rubs his chin and looks at the small creator on the wheel chair...hmmm, perhaps it is some kind of noble or scholar, but the figure sure does have quite the peculiar body. The plant being looks at the sky then back at his pouch, deciding that he has enough time to waste here, his own jasmine scent wafting around him in this hot weather, pity that it is not raining.<br> <br>The burly Bull being releases his grip on the floating chair for just a moment to spread a canopy to keep the sun off the seat&#39;s occupant before stepping out into the sunlight, the other three bruisers moving into a protective formation. 

&quot;Well?&quot; Comes a mechanical voice from the shape in the chair, &quot;What are we waiting for? Get a move on!&quot; It certainly does not sound like a child. Despite the artificial sound of the voice, it almost certainly has the tone of an old man!<br> <br>Bao served a captain once who spoke in the same impatient demands. He feels a pang of sympathy for the guards and the Bull who seems to be playing porter. He&#39;s curious about the Creator&#39;s errand, though, and a little annoyed at the complete ignoring of the small crowd.<br> <br>Rokarion rubbed his chin as he saw the demanding Creator before looking around, well...it seemed like Doctor Parson had allowed this man entry into Promise...but if the scene is any indication...he did not inform the local government. Deciding it is best not to interfere right now, Rokarion keeps to his side. <br> <br>At the tiny figure&#39;s urging, the Bull pushes him gently forward as the thugs around him keep the crowd from getting too close. It is quite certain now that the thing in the chair is not a child. It seems rather to be a wizened old monkey, or something like one, carefully encased in a shining suit of some sort with a domed bubble over its head and shoulders. It, or more likely, he glares out from his bubble at the beings and world around him from under thick, heavy brows. 

&quot;So this is the mudhole that Sinclaire sold her career for?&quot; he snaps as he peers about, &quot;Hard to believe she thought all these ANIMALS (His speaking machine interjects) could possibly be worth it!&quot; It seems that he is talking to someone, a machine spirit perhaps, since he sits silently in an attitude of listening. &quot;I don&#39;t give a EXPLICATIVE what Parson&#39;s reports say!&quot; he gripes at whoever it was that was speaking to him, &quot;I want to see it myself. Where&#39;s the EXPLICATIVE guide you promised me!?&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion raises a brow at the rather rude Creator, the plant being deciding to focus on the translation rather than whatever the creator is saying in his own tongue. Finally deciding to interject, Rokarion takes a step closer and raises a hand, &quot;Excuse me, sir. Are you looking for someone? I couldn&#39;t help but hear that you are waiting for a guide, if you give us more details, I think we can show you where they is.&quot; <br> <br>Flora blinks. Again. And she seems to be a bit upset at the Creator&#39;s rudeness, as evidenced by the agitated flick of her tail. Even so, she keeps a straight face for the time being, watching Rokarion move up to the... Thing in the bubble.<br> <br>&quot;Mudhole.&quot; Bao mutters under his breath. If it were a Cliffsider in a bar, Bao would have popped him one. As it&#39;s a heavily-guarded Creator, that&#39;s not an option. Bao wonders what it will take to get the Creator to leave, and if there&#39;s some way he can help with that without losing his temper.<br> <br>&quot;There&#39;s one that knows its place!&quot; the shriveled thing in the bubble says, &quot;Why can&#39;t you ever be helpful like that Beef?&quot; He is obviously needling the plodding bull pushing his chair, but the placid being only nods and waits for instructions. &quot;Well,&quot; the chair-bound Creator says, looking back to Rokarion, &quot;I was supposed to be meeting some layabout worker model for a tour of this CITY. But I guess a local will do if there&#39;s nothing better.&quot; The other Creators say nothing, simply watching for possible threats to their charge.<br> <br>Rokarion raises an eyebrow at the Creator&#39;s comment about place, looks like someone is mistaking politeness for servitude, &quot;Well sir...I am not a local of this city, but I have been living here long enough to be to show you all of the major buildings and areas. Would you like that?&quot; the plant being says with a smile. <br> <br>Flora raises her brow as she slowly, calmly steers her golem towards the gathered creators and their charge, her ears flicking lightly as she approaches, slow enough for the three bodyguard to get a good look of her golem, currently merely used for transportation. &quot;Allow Flora to introduce herself, yes,&quot; she rumbles, offering a seated bow towards the chair-seated creator. &quot;High Lady Flora Longtail, head of House Longtail and founder of LongTech Industries.&quot;

&quot;It would be an honor to guide mister Creator through the city... But perhaps it would be easier if Flora knew how to address sir creator?&quot; she rumbles, looking towards the bull with an apologetic look on her muzzle.<br> <br>Bao sighs quietly and approaches. &quot;Sir Bao of Solacious. I can help your gentlemen here keep an eye out for local trouble. I don&#39;t guess anybody&#39;d come after a Creator, but you never know.&quot;<br> <br>The Creator in the bubble frowns at Flora&#39;s introduction. &quot;I heard that you BEINGS had started giving yourselves titles,&quot; he says, his voice rather grating, &quot;You&#39;re the one that figured out how to make a CAMERA, aren&#39;t you?&quot; He looks at the trio that has offered their services, then nods in assent. &quot;Fine, fine,&quot; he says &quot;You can call me Doctor Maximillian. Beef! Follow these BEINGS!&quot; 

The big Bull nods and plods along after the trio, while the other Creators keep a little bubble of space around the group.<br> <br>Rokarion shrugs and turns around as the two other beings join them, &quot;Yes, we have noble houses on Promise, each nation has some. But there are a couple of nations that are not monarchies.&quot; the jasmine tells the Creator as they move along, &quot;We are now in Firmament, the capital of Sweetwater. It is a monarchy ruled by the Good King, and the council of the nobles, who come from the most powerful noble houses in Sweetwater.&quot; <br> <br>Bao listens. The growing fellow is a better tour guide than he&#39;d be, anyway. Bao is more concerned with the behavior of the guards and the porter. He&#39;s content to trail behind but within earshot of the group.<br> <br>Flora smiles and nods, her tails still swaying behind her, before rumbling softly. &quot;That is correct, yes. Flora made the camera... Well, Promise&#39;s camera. Flora is sure the creators have their own version, yes,&quot; the cat notes with a soft smile, keeping her eye more on the bull.

She nods along with Rokarion, before smiling softly. &quot;To the north, Sweetwater is bordered by Thera&#39;Dor, yes. Another monarchy, but with a king elected by the houses themselves. To the east, beyond the seas, Shralesta, where the Church rules... And to the west, Cliffside, where those beings with the greatest skills hold sway,&quot; the she-cat adds to that, before looking towards Bao and Rokarion, before simply pausing for a moment.<br> <br>Maximillian grunts an acknowledgement of Rokarion and Flora&#39;s words as the group makes its way toward the gates of Firmament proper. His thugs seem to have just a bit more difficulty maintaining their perimeter once inside the walls. There are just too many beings out and about on this sunny day to press them back too much, and the floating chair and its occupant are hardly a common sight in the walls of the city.<br> <br>Bao sidles up to the nearest guard and clears his throat. With the subtlest nod of his head that he can manage, he indicates the robed figures. He&#39;s not personally convinced they&#39;re a threat, but the professional security ought to know. &quot;Possible trouble.&quot; he whispers. &quot;Possible.&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion rubs his chin as he recieves the mental message before continuing on, &quot;We are not entering Firmament. It is the capital of Sweetwater, and the most important city in the country as well. Bisecting the city in half is the Sweetwater, the river that the country is named after. Near us are both the Castle district, where the noble houses and the Good palace is, and the Academy district the place of the Academy of Sweetwater.&quot; Rokarion looks around as he sees all the eager beings, sending a mental message bacl.<br> <br>Flora shakes her head lightly, before smiling softly. &quot;The church is further south, while the market and main square are further to the east, yes... Perhaps, though, it would help if we knew what sort of things mister Creator Doctor Maximillian wishes to see of the city and its surrounding areas? Or will a general tour be enough?&quot;

Her eyes cast towards Rokarion for a bit, before she looks towards Bao as well.<br> <br>Maximillian gives an unpleasant wheeze of a laugh at the mention of the Academy. &quot;I imagine that you study magic and natural philosophy there,&quot; he snorts, as if at some sort of joke. He then says something else, but it does not penetrate the shield of his bubble. Must be part of that private conversation. Finishing whatever his private business was, he turns surprisingly sharp eyes on Flora. &quot;Take me to this Church of yours,&quot; he says, &quot;I want to know what happened to the layabout RY-0 model that was supposed to meet me. He is supposed to be kept there.&quot; 

The security grunt gives Bao a sour look, and shakes his head, tapping the odd bit of jewelry on his ear. &quot;Again,&quot; he grunts with a strange accent, &quot;No understand.&quot; It seems that the grunts aren&#39;t provided with translators.<br> <br>Bao sighs, working to keep the robed figures in his peripheral vision. He tries again to communicate with the guard, throwing a variety of words at him in the hope something will stick. &quot;Threat. Danger. Maybe. Robes. Moving walking with us. I will watch.&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion rubs his chin as he looks into the direction of the academy and nods his head, &quot;Well, we call it divine maths...they are complex equations that you memorize and use to produce a desired effect as well as various other subjects.&quot; the plant being says, &quot;I do have a notebook on me with some examples of those equations, I can also demonstrate if you wish.&quot; he says before looking in the direction of the church as the creator tasks the beings with going there. <br> <br>Flora nods and smiles, before steering her golem in the direction of Saints Square, her ears flicking and her eyes casting around the area momentarily. &quot;After Flora then, yes,&quot; she mumbles, before gesturing at her golem. &quot;Flora&#39;s golem is also powered by mathemagics... Although Flora is much better at math than at magic, yes.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;Later, perhaps,&quot; Maximillian says raising a gauntleted hand, &quot;First I want to see this &#39;Church&#39; of yours.&quot; It seems strange that only he, of all the Creators that have come to Promise, seems to be wearing armor. The others have all seemed to have a sort of peculiar disdain for it. 

Saint&#39;s square is busy today. It seems like some sort of caravan must have come into town. A couple of unusual booths have been set up at different parts of the square. One near the Church and one not too far from the northern entrance to the square. Each booth is manned by a pair of figures swathed in desert robes. Looks like they are not open yet, though, since neither seems to have any wares available. 

The security grunt finally seems to get what Bao is saying and murmurs some quick instructions while he touches the odd jewelry adorning his ear. The three guards start to look around, but their search for Bao&#39;s threat runs into an immediate problem: Now there are no fewer than six robed figures around the square!<br> <br>Rokarion raises a brow as he notices the oddly dressed men inside the booths, idly rubbing his chin as he sinks a hand underneath his cloak, &quot;Doctor Maximillian...I assume you have no idea who those cloaked figures are?&quot; the plant being asks as he looks around, &quot;Just pointing that out, because this is an extremely odd happening in Firmament, so you might want to be careful.&quot; the plant being says as he brings his hand out of his cloak again. <br> <br>&quot;Now *that&#39;s* a bloody coincidence.&quot; Bao mutters. He&#39;s wearing a sword, of course, but it&#39;s mostly decoration. It would take time to change his soul gem for something more practical. No guarantee that it&#39;s danger, he reminds himself. With Creators involved, it could be nearly anything.<br> <br>Flora blinks a little, before she pulls a duo of pistols from her outfit, her tails swaying lightly, her ears flicking as she awaits the creator&#39;s words, watching the robed figures with a raised brow, and a nod.

&quot;Yes. Very uncommon, yes. Creators attract attention, but not... This kind, yes.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;What are you talking about?&quot; Maximillian snaps irritably, &quot;Why should I know anyone on thi-&quot; The world may never know what he was about to say, because one of the robed figures has caught on that the group is suspicious. 

A robed being across the square suddenly gives a shout and starts waving at the others who spring into action, converging on the party! Four beings rush the group, while one remains at each of the booth tents they were working on. There is an increase in noise in the square while beings look on in confusion!<br> <br>&quot;Mind the tents!&quot; Bao yells to Rokarion and Flora, drawing his sword. At least it&#39;s got an edge. &quot;We&#39;ll hold them.&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion looks around in his usual idle gaze as the group of being attempt to rush the group. Not knowing what exactly was their angle and not wanting to hurt them, Rokarion sighs and begins drawing a number of geometric symbols in the air. If all goes well, the plant being would force a heavy torrent of air magic downwards on the area that will catch the most of the robed beings. hoping to force all of them on the ground.  <br> <br>A growl, a rumble, and Flora takes careful aim at one of the approacing forms, making sure to wait until they&#39;re close enough and with no beings in her line of sight, and then, she fires at the feet of one approaching form, before her second pistol is drawn in a quick motion, aimed at the feet of another approaching form, and fired...<br> <br>Lady Longtail&#39;s shots don&#39;t land, but they don&#39;t hit any bystanders either, merely causing the robed figures to hesitate and stagger aside, killing their momentum. Rokarion has somewhat more success, sending beings tumbling to the ground on one side of the square, though the two robes in his area are still struggling forward. One of the assailants&#39; even loses their hood, revealing. . . a Creator! 

The brute squad has not been idle, forming up around their charge and activating some sort of device, creating a shimmering, blue umbrella around Maximillian and his Bull porter.<br> <br>Bao, outside the blue shield, stands with his drawn sword and obvious confusion. When Creators fought with each other, was it even possible for there to be a right side? The sea lion stands in a slightly-awkward fencer&#39;s crouch, pointing his cutlass at no one in particular.<br> <br>Flora lowers her pistols, before looking towards the creators, then casting a near-glare towards the creator they were escorting before. &quot;Mister Creator Doctor Maximillian should probably start explaining, yes,&quot; she rumbles, even as she sets to reloading her pistols, tails trashing about...<br> <br>Rokarion purses his lips as he sees the assailants being revealed as Creators as well. The plant being rubs his chin and shrugs, &quot;Sorry, Doctor Maximilian, I think Doctor Parson will frown upon beings getting involved in Creator battles.&quot; he says before taking a couple of steps away of the creator and his entourage, &quot;Please, stop this!&quot;, the plant being screams as loud as he can, &quot;Doctor Parson does not allow Creators to get into conflict on this world, please respect our right to live without having to suffer from your own politics and agendas. Stop this fight at once.&quot; the plant being adds, it is quite unfortunate that even in this speech he still sounds as apathetic and monotonous as usual. <br> <br>&quot;Beef!&quot; Maximillian calls, &quot;Get us out of here!&quot; The attacking group don&#39;t seem to be able to do anything against the trained bodyguards, the three of them are more than capable of holding them off while Beef and Maximillian make their getaway. 

&quot;We are protecting you!&quot; one of the robes cries, &quot;That THING is a monster and must be stopped! Use it now!&quot; 

The two robes left at the booths tear away the canvas, revealing a pair of odd looking machines that crackle and spark to life!<br> <br>Rokarion shrugs and moves aside, Doctor Maximilian might not be the most benevolent creator he saw but he also knew nothing of his assailants, sure they might be one of those &#39;Being Right Groups&#39; that the outworlders talk about, but then again they just as well can be political opponents.  So, the plant being decides to simply stay out of the way.<br> <br>If the armored visitor had been anything other than condescending, Bao might have tried to calm the situation down. As it is, though, he&#39;s more than happy to get out of the interlopers&#39; way, even trying to get ahead of the fleeing Maximillian to slow his escape.<br> <br>Flora blinks and looks between the different creators, her tails twitching, and she, much like Rokarion, doesn&#39;t seem to interject anymore. Considering she doesn&#39;t know enough about this conflict to choose a side, the best choice is not to choose a side to begin with...<br> <br>The crackling machines suddenly send out snapping arcs of lightning, all drawn to the glowing blue shield around Doctor Maximillian! After a few strikes, the shimmering curtain is gone, leaving the chair-bound Creator exposed and far from his body guards. &quot;Run, Beef! You idiot!&quot; he screams, falling into a fit of wracking coughs. 

The Bull gives a docile nod and starts to trot, weaving the floating chair toward the northern exit from the square where one of the robed and coweled figures is still manning one of those strange machines.<br> <br>Rokarion keeps up a pace with the Doctor and his porter, hoping that the assailants won&#39;t actually kill the doctor, that is the last thing Promise needs right now. However the plant being does stop for a moment to send a shadow whisper to Flora before continuing his jogging pace<br> <br>Bao tries again to get ahead of the fleeing Creator, though he minds the angle of the lightning machine and tries to keep himself clear of the line of fire. <br> <br>Flora nods and looks towards the beings, before bounding off in the direction of the church, intent on collecting one of the priests to observe and send a missive to Parson ASAP, while keeping an eye on the robed figures. &quot;You, you and you. Keep those ones restrained. Flora will want to talk to them after!&quot; she calls out to the beings around the group, gesturing at the seven creators not being chased... &quot;All of them. Even the guards!&quot; she calls out, before bounding towards the church.<br> <br>The beings that Flora points out look flabbergasted and just stare at her, or stare at the fighting Creators, or just stare in general. Looks like there won&#39;t be much help from that area. 

Meanwhile another arc of lightning leaps from the machine near the plaza&#39;s exit and strikes Maximillian and his Bull porter, sending them both sprawling.<br> <br>Bao does not want this getting out of the square. After a reluctant moment that feels far longer than it is, he dives onto the Bull, hoping that the Doctor cannot make the odd flying chair move on his own.<br> <br>Rokarion looks at the arc and back at the sprawled Maximilian and Beef. &quot;Bao, instead of standing there go and get the other Creator device.&quot; he says as he points at the device near the north entrance where both beings are,  before he turns around towards the one near to the churhcj, &quot;We should keep all of them here until Parson knows about this incident, I think they are trying to murder the Doctor.&quot; with that said, Rokarion focuses on that device screaming, &quot;Get out of the way!&quot;, before he summons his divine maths, aiming to form a localized hailstorm around the device and pelt the creator enough to keep him distracted from firing his weapon. <br> <br>Several beings, conditioned to obeying nobility more than their distant gods finally spring into action, piling on top of Creators, some of them reciting prayers or apologizing profusely as they do so. 

Rokarion&#39;s hail storm is enough to send the Creator manning the lighting machine ducking for cover, though it seems as if the machines have already served their purpose. 

Flora, upon entering the Church finds that it is quiet and empty, as is normal on a weekday afternoon, aside from a few priests going about their duties. &quot;Can I help you, my Lady?&quot; asks a matronly little black bear. 

Bao, upon tackling Beef, finds something rather strange. The Bull is not just pushing the chair, he is CONNECTED to the chair by a series of wires and tubes that run between them.<br> <br>&quot;Fighting! Creators shooting lightning. Beings keeping them restrained for now. Come,&quot; the she-cat calls out to the priests. &quot;Missive to Parson. Creator Doctor Maximilian. Quick,&quot; she adds, before gesturing in the direction of the ruckus, leaving the priests no time to ask questions either as she bounds back...<br> <br>Bao holds his ground. Unplugging strange devices could be *bad,* and he isn&#39;t stupid. He eases up on Beef, keeping his sword at the Bull&#39;s throat. &quot;Let&#39;s just stay put while this gets sorted out, aye?&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion pauses to look at the scene of, thankfully bloodless, carnage around him. With nothing else to do, Rokarion quickly rushes towards the downed doctor, &quot;Someone call the guards.&quot; he shouts before kneeling in front of Maximilian, inspecting the creator and seeing if he is still alive. Such a pity that the first creator Rokarion every touched was this vile human.  <br> <br>Beef does not move, he only nods and lays there quietly, since no one has given him any other instructions. Rokarion&#39;s attempts to aid the fallen Maximillian are stymied by the shriveled man&#39;s suit, which seems to be affixed to his chair, and certainly keeps the well meaning plant from even touching the feeble Creator. 

The little priestess blinks stupidly at Flora&#39;s outburst and looks like she would say something until she sees the scene outside as Flora leaves. All those beings who were so recently at noon mass now piled on top of struggling Creators? Nothing good was coming out of all this. &quot;Get the Bell!&quot; the little, round blackbear roars, &quot;We have a situation!&quot;<br> <br>Bao squints and shakes his head. &quot;What a blessed mess.&quot; He pulls the sword back and looks at Beef. &quot;You can sit if it&#39;s more comfortable. This will get sorted out one way or another. Is the Creator alive, Rokarion?&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion finishes inspecting the creator, rubbing his hand after the strange feeling from touching the creator suit. The plant being stands up, &quot;He is still alive, but I think that he is unconscious.&quot; Rokarion sighs and looks around, deciding to simply relax himself for now, the maths he used in such a hastily manner causing him a slight headache. <br> <br>Flora smiles and nods as she rides her golem around the area, making sure each of the creators is restrained, before she looks to one of the creators close to the device. &quot;Raise him, but keep him restrained, yes. And you. Explain,&quot; she rumbles, looking at the downed Creator with a raise of her brow.<br> <br>Beef nods and sits up, gently righting Maximillian in his chair which proceeds to float a few inches off the ground. The Bull carefully checks the connections between himself and the chair, nods again, and sits there docile. 

The beings that Flora is ordering around look worried and uncomfortable, as do most of the beings in the square, especially those sitting atop Creators, robed or otherwise. They do as they are told and hold up what appears to be a young female. 
&quot;He&#39;s a monster!&quot; the girl exclaims, &quot;We were just saving you all from his depravity!&quot;<br> <br>Looks back at the young creator female, moving closer to her, &quot;Saving us from his depravity by attacking him in the front of our religious buildings, right after a mass?&quot; the plant being asks in a loud voice as he notices that the beings are growing hesitant, &quot;You think that killing him here will be better for us? No, Doctor Parson will be angry, and your kind up there will start questioning who let such a crime happen. And the creators who hate us beings being free will come back here to meddle with us again.&quot; the plant being says, voice as cold as ever, &quot;Besides, if you care so much for our well being and our right to live as creators, why are you not respecting our own laws when you are in our cities? Murder is still illegal no matter what you are trying to achieve. Don&#39;t you have courts and judges up there?&quot;<br> <br>&quot;That does not answer anything, no. Explain,&quot; the cat repeats, her ears flicking lightly as she listens to Rokarion, before focusing her gaze back upon the creator-woman, awaiting a more fulfilling answer.<br> <br>Bao continues to stand, vigilant. The others know more of the Creators than he does, and as nobody&#39;s trying to kill each other at the moment, there&#39;s little reason for the ranger to intervene.<br> <br>&quot;Murder?&quot; the woman asks, incredulous, &quot;That thing? He died years ago! Decades ago! He is nothing but a parasite living off of another being&#39;s blood! He and his SICK experiments must be stopped! No court has been able to convict him! It was up to us!&quot; It looks like that is about as much answer as anyone is likely to get from her. 

The various Creators around the square have stopped struggling, for now, since there is not much you can do while being sat upon by a bunch of well meaning animal people.<br> <br>Bao raises his voice a little. &quot;He will die without the Bull&#39;s blood? Is he some revenant of Pyrrha&#39;s?&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion rubs his chin as he looks back at Doctor Maximilian, &quot;Hmm, so that device must somehow siphon a being to keep him alive.&quot; Rokarion says as he looks back at the creator female, &quot;And? That&#39;s it? Won&#39;t you answer to why are you breaking our laws? Isn&#39;t that despicable too? You thinking that you are superior to us, that our laws mean nothing to you, and that your vigilante work is more important than the lives of the beings standing here today, beings who just came finished worshiping you and giving you praise. Those lightning machines could have killed and injured many beings!&quot; <br> <br>The restrained Creator girl spits. &quot;He is nothing but a husk!&quot; she snarls, &quot;The only life or heart he has belongs to that poor being attached to his corpse!&quot; She looks surprised at Rokarion&#39;s accusation. &quot;Don&#39;t be stupid,&quot; she says, &quot;You people put more beings at risk than we did! The lightning machines are. . .&quot; she hesitates, looking for words, &quot;They only strike other things with lightning in them,&quot; she finishes, &quot;Only Maximillian and his people had enough lightning in their gear to attract our attacks.&quot; 

Even as she speaks, there is a low whine from above and a Creator ship zooms in to halt, hovering overhead. A hatch opens in the bottom of the ship and a dozen figures in strange armor slide down on lowered lines. They are wearing strange armor, but are most certainly Creators themselves. The Creators set to work, gathering the prisoners in a businesslike manner and thanking the various beings for their help and quick thinking.<br> <br>Bao finally sheathes his sword. He exhales slowly as the adrenaline begins to fade in earnest. &quot;I&#39;m beginning to think the Spirits make more sense than the Creators.&quot;<br> <br>Rokarion raises a brow at the creator girl, &quot;And how are we supposed to know...&quot; he says before the ship starts descending. The plant being allows the Creator guards to go on about their job, &quot;If you actually want to thank us, you might want to start considering dealing with that doctor and his experiments, and tell him than he has beings to thank for his life.&quot;, he idly says as he looks around, hoping this won&#39;t get them anymore attention from those camera creators that come on the occasion. <br> <br>Flora smiles and nods, before shaking her head at the girl. And then, she&#39;s suddenly... Gone. No big words to any of the beings, no more talking to the creators, and no more glances towards the beings or the church... She seems to have her mind on business already again, as her golem moves in the direction of Longtail Square...<br> <br>One of the Creator guards looks dispassionately at Rokarion, his expression unreadable through the dark visor of his helmet. &quot;I am sure the the doctor will take that under advisement, sir,&quot; he says drily as he directs a stretcher of some kind to pick up Maximillian, Beef and their connecting machinery, &quot;Mister Parson will be apprised of this situation and appropriate action will be taken. Thank you all for your help.&quot; 

And that is it. 

Cleanup is managed quickly and the Creator guards ascend back into the ship with prisoners and contraband in tow and are gone as swiftly as they came, leaving a lot of confused beings in their wake.[[Category:RPLogs]]