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Transmigration 9: Brave New Worlds

Pan-fandom, SciFi, and Screwed-Up

LF Blacksmith will tip [OPEN]
werescourge wrote in trans_9
The ruins of the City may be disheartening to the rest of the crew, but Kyladriss wasn't concerned with repairs of any kind. She stalked through the streets dragging a pile of robot parts on a large awning she'd salvaged from one of the buildings, inspecting fallen enemies with a critical eye.

She ignored circuitry and smaller parts in favor of larger pieces of sheet metal, prying the pieces off with her bare hands. It may not be saronite, but she supposed it would do.

When she judged she had enough scrap to at least cover her person, she dragged her claim across the city to Hiccup's workshop, where she had been told she could find a blacksmith. Unlike in Stormwind, it seemed that finding one here was a rare feat. Luckily this one was also a Councilor, and made it easy to track him down.

Kyladriss dragged the scrap to his front door and sat down beside it to wait.

(OOC: You can run into Kyladriss in the city while she's salvaging or while she's waiting for Hiccup, just note it in your comment.)

Mi Casa Su... no, never mind [Open]
Tarrant: hmm
coldfire_adept wrote in trans_9
When he'd reached out to the fae before, to the delicate violate tendrils of power that had wound its way into every den and dovecote in the City and the ship at large, Tarrant had momentarily been overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of the place -- indelible impressions left by its inhabitants, by the constructs that maintained the ship's systems...

By a reminder of home.

He stepped off the tram (remarkable invention, that. So very convenient. So very impossible, according to the rules of his own world) and glided through the City streets, one hand resting on the hilt of the slender sword at his belt. And then...

It was Merentha Castle, as he remembered it from Erna -- the mirror twin of his own Keep in the Forest of Jahanna. The white numarble arches and stonework were intact, but he sensed no life from within. No survivors of the Tarrant clan, then, had made their home here. If they were present, they were somewhere in the pods, sleeping and unawares. He was still for a moment, considering his options. But in the end, there was no real dilemma. Like hell was he sleeping in Crew Quarters. That was for peasants okay

He swept his way inside. The Workings would have to be redone, of course. A little project for him. He had the free time.

Feet on the ground; head in the clouds [ Open; Post-SHODAN, Pre-exploring plot ]
skyboundmisfit wrote in trans_9
Tobias didn't usually morph human. It made him feel too heavy, too clumsy, and above all far too blind. But he did it once in a long while. Like today. He was wandering along the edge of the lazy river that had been cut into the soil of the City, hands clasped behind his head. He wasn't dressed in much; what looked like bike shorts and an awkwardly tight t-shirt. His feet bare and digging into the soil and grass of the shoreline.

He didn't do this often, but sometimes it was good to stretch your legs as much as your wings, to remember what it felt like to have thumbs and lips and fingers. It also helped to collect his thoughts in a way that flight didn't. What was he doing here? The amazing Birdboy, more bird than boy now. The entire enterprise felt strange to him. He couldn't be of much help, he felt, what with being stuck (was he really stuck) as a bird except for two hour chunks of time. But the others were here and that helped assure him that he could be useful, even if it was only helping them.

As things stand, other crew members might be interested in this strange boy that's arrived in their midst. That had been one of his big objections to it: people finding out he could morph. So he'd gotten a bunch of dumb fake names from Marco and settled on a pseudonym eventually. Let them believe he'd come aboard in the last pop.

The boy stooped to pick up a rock and turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm stone in his palm before hurling it out into the river. He had an hour or so left. He'd take his time for now.