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OOC: Finally some details about THE FUTURE =) people would do well to pay attention (wink wink).

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Bewildered and embarrassed at having witnessed (however unintentionally) something obviously deeply personal, Ottilie looked at the ground, rubbing the side of her snout. Legs and Lothair also turned their attention to different areas of the room, and on screen Lynk regarded her interlaced fingers with equal parts sympathy and discomfort. For a moment they were quiet, Henry's sobs the only noise. When these died down, Lynk said softly, "I'll be in contact. Keep your A.P.D. on hand." Ottilie nodded, her reply also quiet, "right. I'll do that." Her friend smiled, "you better," she raised a brow at the decipede, "Legs, you look after her, ya hear?" He rolled his eyes, sweeping an arm over Ottilie, "hasn't been blown up or broken anything yet. You're welcome." Lynk chuckled, smile fading as she looked at Toby and Henry, giving them a small, awkward wave, "thanks again. We really appreciate your doing this. If you need anything from us, anything at all, don't hesitate to let Ottilie know. She'll pass it along."

"'Course. Thanks fer e'erythin', Lynk. I'd be...well, done without ya," the other girl said. Lynk grinned, shrugging, "nah. Missing a few limbs, maybe." She grew serious, concern for her friend visible in her eyes, "talk to you soon. Be careful."

"Much as m'able. Talk ta ya soon, Lynk." The projection vanished, and Ottilie went to work removing all traces of Oasis presence, even going so far as to send the box Toby, Henry, and Kevin's gifts had arrived in back by way of the waterfall. When she'd finished, she fell to fiddling with her A.P.D., ensuring it was silenced before buttoning it into a trouser pocket underneath her skirt. It might prove an extraneous precaution, but then again, the less Jerin knew the better she felt. Lothair watched as she went about these tasks, frowning. Despite the fact that he'd slept through most of her conversation with Lynk, the Chief hadn't become Chief by being slow on the uptake, "you--" he started, but the harsh rasp accompanying the word and the pains it caused made him break off. He exchanged a panicked look with Ottilie, who realized simultaneously that although what he'd said was true (he would not be dying immediately), the virus was drying his throat out and would soon render him as foaming and incoherent as his kin. Horrified, the Oasis creature scrambled up the rock to his side, all else forgotten, "s'all me fault! M'so--" he shook his head, speaking in short bursts to prolong what he could say, "--no time. Listen. In my center antlers, a whistle is hidden--"

"--On it," Legs chirped hurriedly, leaping to land on a horn and disappear between the lengths of moss. "Nemo, help him!" Ottilie instructed the small bot, and it zoomed after her partner along with the curious Jack. Pacing below, she was about to call to them when the decipede emerged, holding the whistle in his front legs, "coming down kitto!" Ottilie held her hands out, and he dropped the wooden object into them, "thanks, genius!" and to Lothair, "got it yer Lordship!"

"Show me," the old creature demanded, and Ottilie held it out for him to see. Lothair relaxed some when his eyes took in the whistle, though his words were no less urgent, "secure it round your neck. Keep it close. Keep it hidden. Do not lose it." Mystified, the Oasis creature nevertheless did as instructed, tying the whistle cord tightly around her neck before lifting it for a closer look. She knew the carver immediately, and her hand shook. "Listen," Lothair was saying, "it has a companion. I carried one, my mate, the other. Need both to open way to treasure Algos." Ottilie frowned, "I don't follow. I was given a key fer openin' the door by Prince Icosian..."

"Beyond door you seek is final trial involving whistles," he explained, "brothers set it up before they leave." Her mind buzzed with innumerable questions, and it was a struggle to ask only the most essential, "what trial?" Lothair shook his head sadly, "unknown. Went in and emerged with whistles. Said only one who knew what they did could reach treasure." Ottilie and Legs exchanged a confused look, both wondering the same thing: why hadn't there been anything about any of this in the write-up they'd received? Particularly when the scenario appeared to have involved those brothers. Ottilie shook her head, looking back at the larger creature, "other whistles with yer mate?"

"Yes. When you leave, backtrack. Search her antlers, find other." He leaned forward, "with both, continue into Queen Panpoxa's territory. Head westwards. You will find her drones. Large colorful insects with multiple rows of teeth."

"Aye, we saw one earlier."

"Good. When you find, do not attack. They are peaceful, teeth for grinding nuts, not bone. But venom is deadly. One sting kills. Do not fight. Insist you be taken to the Queen. The drone will try to trick you away from their territory. Do not get angry. Only keep insisting. Be inside before sunrise."

"Forgive me fer askin' yer Lordship, but why d'I have ta venture through their territory f'they don't want me there? An' why 'fore sunrise?"

"Six moves only in daylight. And is one place Six will not go. Safe there. Like here."

"Six...?"

"Leader of ones who brought my clan to this. Cowardly. Fears the venom of Panpoxa. Fears her barriers that keep his machines from working. Will not venture into her territory." He hurried on, "inside you will be presented to Panpoxa, who will try to trick you into leaving. Or into space beneath. No one returns from space beneath. Don't be rude, but don't agree. Instead request she let you cross bridge into Anphine's territory." He added, "the Queen thought well of the male who had your face. And you wear his amulet. She will help." Ottilie lowered her head, turning the bead round her neck over and over in two claws while she thought about this. Lothair coughed, flinching painfully, and she looked up, resolved, "yer lordship, please nod f'what I asks true. Does Queen Panpoxa know how ya came ta this state?" He nodded. She went on, "an' does she know 'bout Six?" He nodded again, "an' does she know...does she know 'bout the brothers, 'bout why they came?" He nodded a third time. Ottilie patted his paw, "then I'll learn the rest when I speak with her." Lothair smiled gratefully, rasping, "be in before sunrise. Speak not of whistles unless near rushing water. Do not lose them," he repeated frantically, "do not lose." Ottilie squeezed his paw, her reply firm, "I won't. I promise." She looked down, "m'sorry..." Lothair lifted a large paw to touch her cheek, gently rumbling, "not be. Things happen. Smile." And she did, leaning down and pressing her forehead to his larger one, "thank ya." He bumped her back, "go. Shut door behind."

"Door...?" He nodded at the entrance to the room, "above the entrance. Control panels behind vines." Legs chattered gently, touching her neck, "that's a good idea. He'll be contained when the virus reaches its advanced stages." She nodded wordlessly, and together with Tobias, Henry, Kevin, Nemo, and the Jack, filed out of the room. When they stood outside Ottilie moved the vines to find the controls, holding them apart while Legs unscrewed a panel to get at the wires inside. "Miss O'Dethburr," she looked at Lothair. His last words to her were grave, "in quarreling about the shadow we often lose sight of the substance. Be clever." The creature smiled sadly, inclining her head. Above them the old door creaked and groaned, straining to descend. Finally Legs grumbled and squeezed between two cracks in the wall. After a minute the door started to move, but soon ground to a halt again at the halfway point. The decipede poked his head out from between the vines, "the gears are rusted through!"

"Bollocks," Ottilie cursed, and jumping, gripped the side, trying to shake the door loose. Eventually she slipped and fell, landing hard on her tail, "ow!" Standing shakily, she rubbed her bottom, then looked at Toby, "um, Toby? Ya an' Henry're strong...think either o'ya could pull it the rest o'the way down...? I mean, f'its not too much o'a bother, that 'tis."

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"Who exactly--" Cho was interjecting, tight lipped, but before she could finish Ball took up a piteous droning and zoomed to hide between its master's feet. Junk's single eye flashed distastefully at this behavior, "oh really. I have found it necessary to self destruct a total of sixty four and a half times over the years and you do not see me carrying on like this."

"Ball is unfamiliar with P.I.A. technology. Its trepidation is logical." Jerin said calmly, stooping to take the frightened robot in one hand. It trembled, droning pleadingly. He stared at it, eyes softening (Jerin loved every piece he'd ever created despite hating his work so much sometimes), and turning, waved a hand impatiently at the bubbles, "they came from some device, Junk. Find it." The robot nodded, slithering down his shoulder and moving to disappear along the wall. Now especially eager to demonstrate its usefulness, Ball shot off Jerin's palm, bouncing after Junk. Undaunted by the interruption, Cho persisted in a tone that seemed to indicate she thought Jerin had orchestrated the entire scene to keep her from asking, "who exactly is Ottilie, beloved?! And why do you have a knack for finding her--?!"

"--Bugger, leave it already Kix," Burnu grunted, looking at Jerin, "Jesty? A word in, f'I may?"

"Of course."

"Ferget 'er."

"Pardon?" Jerin drolled, but there was audible tension in his voice. Burnu shifted nervously, "that slip o'a girl. Ferget 'er. She's caught a Dyara's attention, an' one what wears the kit o'the P.I.A. at that. Its bad road."

"I agree," Cho said coldly. Dirac frowned, but held his tongue. After all, if Jerin chose to leave he might find himself free of his obligation to the creature. Burnu was speaking again, "y'know the Dyara. Y'know how they are." Jerin smiled, shrugging amiably, "possibly." Burr fought to stay patient with him, a testament to just how high his regard for the other was, "right, s'in yer head ya jus' can't get at it. Dyara's another Bush clan. Dyara--bone. The bone clan." He went on, "so called 'cause their bone density makes 'em near impervious ta fractures an' injury. Known fer that, an' the serpents come ta 'em." Jerin tapped his cheek, "ah, yes. Dyara are the only known group of creatures capable of charming and forming bonds with serpents."

"Right end o'the stick, wrong word. Nothin' charmin' 'bout that lot. Always arguin' an' fightin'. They don't get on with anyone 'cept each other an' the serpents, who're much the same way." He crossed his arms, "fierce in e'erythin' they do, an' when they get sumthin' in their heads they don't let go easy. That sheila, she's got it in hers ta keep the girl from ya, an' like I said 'fore, the P.I.A. behind her s'well. So ferget 'er," he repeated, "s'more trouble than ya want." Cho moved under Burnu's arm to take Jerin's hands in her own, the jealously in her eyes fading into genuine concern, "you said before I had you at 'please Jerin'--" she started, "--if that is and was so, then please, Jerin. Let us find Master Nochtli and leave this place. He will say yes if you ask to accompany us, he always says yes even when he is not happy with you." Jerin smiled a little, but pulled his hands from hers, shaking his head to both of them, "I'm sorry...but, I'm afraid I must decline."

"Suit yerself," Burnu chuckled, clapping him on the back so hard he almost fell over, "ya ne'er could resist distressin' a damsel!" Kiku scowled, ears flattening against her head, "indeed. I think--" she stopped as he braced himself against the wall with one hand, "--beloved?!" Jerin shut his eyes, remarking queasily, "I apologize. I feel as if I'm--" he retched, and leaning forward begin vomiting in the dirt...

Ottilie smiled the best she could given the circumstances (the forthcoming untimely death of a decent individual is never an easy thing) and saluted them smartly, "cheers mates." She paused then, hand lifting to turn the bead round her neck over absently as she considered Lothair's words. Everything had happened so fast she'd scarcely had time to absorb and react to what she was hearing, and no time at all to ask many of the questions she was pondering now. What was the final trial surrounding Algos's treasure? Where did the twin whistles come in? Exactly how and why had the O'Dethburr brothers been involved with the Complex, with the treasure and with Lothair? What had Lothair's clan done that had resulted in such bitter retaliation from Six? And for that matter, who was Six? Ottilie shivered, troubled; luckily her mind was efficient and sharp, and as minds often are when made anxious, inclined to function all the quicker. Six moves only in daylight, she rationalized, means he's diurnal. Lothair said he's cowardly s'well. An' he must rely heavily on machines o'some sort 'cause Lothair also said one o'the reasons he doesn't go inta Queen Panpoxa's territory s'cause she's got a kind o'barrier that keeps his machines from functionin' proper. I can also prolly safely assume he's an interest in Algos's treasure since Lothair went so fars ta bring me out here ta speak o'it. An' since that were the case, must also mean Six an' his associates have access ta some area o'the Complex where they can watch many other areas o'the Complex. She frowned at this last revelation, gotta be careful not ta speak o'the Oasis s'well as the whistles, an' perhaps 'twould be wisest ta keep it down 'bout Toby's quest, too. Her claws brushed the whistle cord, and reminded of what Lothair had said she shifted the small object (careful to keep it hidden inside her shirt in case the Chief had been wrong and Six was able to see them) so it hung between her shoulder blades. As she did this, she shared her thoughts with her companions, "y'know...'fore Legs and I did the come-in we had a bit o'readin'. Turns out the nearest locals, nearest bein' a relative term o'course, regard the Complex with superstition. They think s'live." She adjusted her satchel strap, "I'll admit I figured they might jus' be spooked 'cause the place does have a presence, but maybe what they were referrin' ta was the feelin' o'bein' watched...?"

"That's plausible, except we haven't found so much as one security camera or recording device since we arrived," Legs chattered, looking up at her, "or at least I haven't seen any external evidence of anything like that. Meaning it would have to be an internal system."

"'Side the walls ya figure?" Ottilie queried. Her partner nodded, "it would explain why Lothair chose this particular corridor. Look around," he gestured at the uneven path, at the rough walls overgrown with vines, "since it's unfinished whatever devices might occupy the walls along the Eulerian path probably weren't installed here, or else the proper wires were never connected." Ottilie considered this, saying nothing at first. It is an unfortunate fact of life that quite often we cannot do many of the things we would like to do immediately or at all because of time and or circumstance. Legs, for instance, would have liked to linger along the Eulerian path conducting a more thorough investigation of the inner workings of the surrounding walls. Ottilie would have liked to contact Lynk to inquire after the O'Dethburr brothers involvement with the Complex and why this was the first she was hearing of it. And both would have quite liked to be assured that once they finished they would never have to see Jerin or Junk ever, ever again. Unfortunately as I said, none of those things could happen immediately or perhaps (especially in the case of the last) at all. "Nothin' more ta be done here. Lets hurry back," she finally said, adding as a red herring (again, in case Six was listening), "I have ta find Jerin. M'sure he's worried sick." She turned around, stopped, and turned back, moving to stand in front of Toby. And then for no reason at all, or rather for many reasons, she smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and reached as high as she could to hug the rabbit, "thanks, Toby. Yer a good friend."

Legs had hopped out of the way to perch on top of her satchel, his chirping there mixing indignation with horror, "oh for the love of--Ottilie!! We've been through this! You can't just hug Sages or Kings or...or important individuals! It's improper!"

Ottilie stepped back and patted his arm, smiling, "ya already did." She added nothing further, instead turning to begin making her way back up the bumpy, uneven path. Legs grumbled, resuming his place on her shoulder and chattering crossly, "I really wish you'd stop doing things like that." She raised a brow at him, "jealous, genius?"

"No. I just think certain situations call for a propriety you're often less than mindful of." She rolled her eyes, "alright mate, alrig--oh!" The girl said, stopping abruptly to avoid bumping into the Jack, which had zipped to hover directly in front of her face. It droned urgently. Ottilie tilted her head at it, frowning, "s'the trouble, little mate?" It droned again, wiggling its orbs. She glanced at Legs. He scowled, "we don't have time to play!" But I know the Jack did not want to play, as you have also probably guessed. You and I will recall that Jack and Ball were effectively linked no matter where they were in relation to each other. This being the case, Ball was aware of everything Jack was aware of, and Jack was aware of everything Ball was aware of. And Ball had seen Jerin holding a wooden whistle after tumbling from the antlers of the rat Queen. Ball had seen Jerin tuck that whistle inside his coat. Ball knew, Jack knew, and now you know. So while Legs suspected the Jack of saying something to the effect of, I would very much like you to play a game with me, in reality the Jack was droning, I would very much like you to know that my master has what you're looking for, and as he is coming to find you, there is little need to retrace your steps. Thankfully Nemo was there, spoke binary, and thus understood exactly what the Jack had said. Pinging excitedly, it flapped its propellers, drawing Ottilie's attention. A moment later her A.P.D. vibrated against her leg, and removing it, she read Nemo's text: it says its master has what you're looking for. Ball, the other robot who was with you before, saw him tuck it inside his coat, and because Ball saw it, it saw it as well. She read thus silently, Legs reading over her shoulder. When she had finished Ottilie turned to inform the others, "oh, this bot says Jerin has what I need." Realizing what she'd said, the girl pressed a hand to her forehead, horrified, "bollocks, Jerin has what I need." Legs patted her neck reassuringly, "it's still likely he doesn't know it's important. We'll figure something out..." she sighed, but nodded, "lets get back ta the Eulerian path, anyway. Even f'he's comin' I'd still like ta reach 'im soon as possible so he knows we need ta hurry." She found the Jack at her shoulder then, having moved back to this position once it had relayed its message. She was thinking of how it had defended her against Burnu, found Toby, Henry, and Kevin earlier in the small room adjacent to the one Lothair had brought her to, and now this. She smiled, "thank ya--" Ottilie paused, "--sorry, s'yer name?" It droned questioningly. Ottilie made her way over a bulge in the ground, taking care not to trip, "y'know, name. What does Jerin call ya ta keep ya separate from the rest o'his 'bots?" The Jack rubbed its orbs together as though she'd given it a difficult word problem. Finally it droned quietly. Nemo translated, and Ottilie read its message on her A.P.D. once more: it says it is one of hundreds of identical robots called Jack. It was not separate until recently. Ottilie looked back at it, "oh, I see. Ya don't really have one." The Jack drooped, and Ottilie couldn't help but feel as if she'd stuck her foot in her mouth again. Legs rolled his eyes, whispering, "it's a machine. It doesn't have feelings. Jerin programs his this way because he's lonely and wants to feel like he has friends. You know that. So don't you dare feel bad." But Ottilie did feel bad, and they moved in silence for several minutes, the Jack drifting low along the ground. Then she said, "y'know little mate, there're lots o'individuals named Jack in the world. In literature too." The Jack looked up at her. She nodded, continuing brightly while Legs made what sounded like a sigh and hunched grumpily, "sure! An' what they do is add different titles or parts ta their names so as not ta be confused with other Jacks. Ya jus' need 'nother part s'all." The Jack followed her around a diamondium pillar someone had left in the path, droning hopefully. Ottilie was quiet, thinking. Then she smiled, "how 'bout Jack Frost? S'a charmin' character in a book I leafed through when I were hidin' out in a library. You'll still be Jack, but you'll have an additional sumthin' ta keep ya separate f'the need calls fer it." The little robot droned inquiringly, and Nemo translated: how do you spell 'Frost'?

"F-R-O-S-T," she told it, and the Jack thought about this, saying the name to itself. It seemed pleased. Ottilie chuckled, "right. S'nice ta meet ya, Jack Frost--oh, wait a tick..." Jack Frost looked on as she reached back to root through her bag. Eventually she held up a short black cord with a loop at one end and a knot in the other, and between them were brightly colored orange, red, and yellow beads. Reaching up, she hung them over an orb to the left of Jack Frost's single eye. "Can ya still see ok?" Jack Frost blinked, then droned affirmatively, draping the beads over an orb so it could look at them. Ottilie smiled, cinching the loop to ensure they wouldn't fall off, "great. Now e'eryone can tell ya 'part from other Jacks!" Jack Frost tilted its head at her, droning gratefully. She shrugged, smiling, "m'glad ta help. Least I can do really after all you've done fer me. 'Specially since I've one more favor ta ask: would ya mind leadin' the way back ta yer master when we hit the main path? I imagine ya prolly know his location better'n I since Ball is with 'im an' y'know where Ball is." Jack Frost didn't mind at all.

It is surprising how very small things can often lead to very big things. Ottilie for instance thought no more of what she'd done than she thought of what she'd eaten for breakfast. But the Jack--excuse me, Jack Frost--who had never been signaled out once since its creation, thought the world of these small deeds. And therein lay Ottilie's great power, for because of a few beads and a little kindness Jack Frost will save her life a total of three times before she leaves the Eulerian Complex. Had I only been there perhaps I could have saved Ottilie some grief as well. Perhaps I would have said something like, "Ottilie, very soon you will make a friend who is not a friend, but in fact an enemy who will hypnotize Jerin in a very unfortunate turn of events," or "Ottilie, Dirac will be putting a gun to your head shortly," or more appropriately, "Ottilie, around the corner of the Eulerian path you are approaching that golden furred primate, Nochtli, is sitting at a campfire, in the exact direction you need to go and I wanted to warn you so you were not surprised!"

Of course I wasn't there and couldn't tell her any of these things. And so Ottilie approached the Eulerian path unaware, its finished walls humming with sounds that had been absent in the corridor they were about to leave, sounds of active machinery beneath the vines (watching machinery?). And out of sight around the corner where Jack Frost intended to lead her, Nochtli sat atop his metal chest in front of a low fire, smoking a long pipe, eyes closed...

"What? Thought you treated him? You mean to tell me he could go rabid any minute?!" Dirac exclaimed. Cho and Burnu exchanged a look before Cho slid to stand between Aurora and Jerin, firmly saying, "of course not. He will be fine." As she knelt to touch his shoulder however Dirac scowled, finally fed up, "I seem to be missing something. See, where I come from when rabid animals bite their victims require immediate treatment. Unless someone explains why that isn't the case here I'll go no further. Not for a fortune."

"Leave, then--" Cho started coldly, but Jerin cut her off, "--thank you, Cho. That will be all." She looked back at him worriedly, but fell silent. For a moment the only sounds were the hum of Complex circuitry and Jerin drawing slow, deep breaths. He coughed, and then moved to sit against the wall. Still looking a little queasy, the creature rested his elbows on upright knees, lacing his claws together. Dirac stood with his arms crossed expectantly, brows furrowed. "The reason why that isn't the case here," Jerin stated without preamble (and somewhat hoarsely), "is that I don't have a conventional immune system." The human narrowed his eyes, "what do you mean...?" The creature cleared his throat, producing a small flask from a pocket and unscrewing the cap, "I mean I haven't had white blood cells since I was four." Dirac's scowl deepened, and Jerin continued quickly, "my kin host a virus passed from parent to child during conception. When we're born, the virus attacks and--in the best case scenario--supplants our biological immune systems." He paused to take a pull from the flask, sloshing its contents around in his mouth. "You've got a virus that acts like an immune system," Dirac repeated, to make certain he'd heard right. Jerin turned his head away to spit the liquid out, and wiped his mouth, "pardon me. Yes, that's correct." The mercenary looked skeptical, scratching his beard, "haven't had biology in years, but I didn't think viruses worked like that. Thought they were--"

"--parasitic? Mostly that's the case. This is a strain unique to the Wakeless Woods, though--" Dirac shuddered, and Jerin's eyes shone brightly, "--you know them?" The Wakeless Woods was a large forest located in Transylvania. Lost in fog half the time, lost in snow half the time, and lost in darkness all the time due to the size and fullness of the trees, it had a distinctly menacing atmosphere and was both famously uncharted and famously hospitable to myriad bacteria and viruses. It made sense that Jerin would belong to a confusing, dark place like that. "Nevermind. What does having a viral immune system have to do with not requiring treatment for rabies?" He demanded. Jerin smiled, "as I said, this strain evolved to suit the forest it originated in, which is renowned for its abundant microorganisms. Since they are predominant, natural selection dictated my virus target them in place of the elusive host cell."

"And your family caught it?" Dirac guessed. Jerin glanced to the side, "that's one way of putting it..." he looked back at him, resting his head against his hand, "...to make a long, long, long, long and excruciatingly boring story short, evolution made our relationship mutualistic rather than parasitic." He gestured at himself, "I provide the virus with a safe place to occupy and supply it with microorganisms when necessary. The virus in turn is far more prevalent than my white blood cells would be, and because it copies itself accordingly I heal quickly and have not been detained by any malady since well before my fifth birthday."

"Why'd you get sick just now, then?" Jerin sighed, "sometimes if I haven't contracted a virus in awhile it makes me nauseous when I do. Rather like eating when you haven't eaten in some time." Dirac frowned, "how can you be sure your virus won't have problems with this one?" Jerin chuckled, slinging an arm over his knee, "well for one, this is not the first time I've had rabies." The human shifted nervously, "yours isn't contagious, is it?"

"Goodness no. It can only survive at very low temperatures. You're warm blooded and thus, perfectly safe." He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, "I do hope that clears everything up--" he glanced at Aurora, as though he didn't much care what anyone else thought save her, "--and I apologize for being...less than forthcoming."

OOC: I have that effect on people! Haha, no but really it's no sweat =) let me know if there's anything you'd like me to do on this end or if there's any information you need from me in order to continue.

Nochtli, the Golden Altar of a Thousand Needles, was of humble beginnings despite his belonging to the cultured and hidden civilization once called El Dorado by certain scholars. First instructed in the lackluster duties of a scribe, the small primate had emphatically rejected this destiny in favor of joining the Shaman, whose primary duties were medicinal in nature. Rising through their ranks, he eventually became one of the revered few who could take an individual's still beating heart from his or her chest using only his hands. When his talents had peaked among his kin he ventured out and into the world, going on to use his considerable strength, nimble fingers, cunning mind and poison darts as an assassin, though he could never really abandon his true calling as a medicine man. These strange circumstances created equally strange results, for Nochtli was often described as having saved as many lives as he'd taken.

Ottilie thought of all this as she stood in the middle of the Eulerian path looking down at him. He was small, wouldn't have even stood as high as her knee had he been standing, and old age had lightened his fur considerably, giving it the unmistakable color of white gold. The bare skin visible on his face, feet, and the palms of his hands was dark brown and wrinkled. He wore a tribal cloth with green and blue geometric patterns wrapped round his waist, a good sized pouch on either hip, and thick bands of some unknown metal round his wrists and ankles. White paint was smeared in a single stripe across his eyes, which were closed. He sat in front of a low fire atop the chest the Oasis creature had seen him drop upon a rat's head earlier, the smoke from a pipe curling lazily about his relaxed form. Jack Frost droned warily at her shoulder, and Legs crossed two pairs of arms grimly. The most important thing about Nochtli in Ottilie's mind and the thing that was making her stand as still as she was, was that he had instructed Jerin in something or other long ago. As a general rule the girl tried to avoid anyone who had had anything to do with turning Jerin into even a fraction of who he was, but if this was the Nochtli than he deserved to be treated with the utmost respect, and she couldn't very well run past him without so much as a greeting or query after his health. That would be a definite--

--slight, Legs agreed, meeting her line of thinking via their link, like standing here gaping. Best to act, Kitto.

No sweat, mate. F'there's one thing an Oasis Investigator knows--Ottilie grinned,--it's etiquette. Legs shifted nervously, but his partner gathered her courage and approached the seated primate. First she knelt directly in front of him, so as to be at eye level, which is always a polite thing to do among creatures when one is taller. Next, she pressed her claw tips together and bowed her head respectfully, careful to use the proper honorific, "a good evenin' ta ya, Grandsire. I hope ya are well, an' I 'pologize fer not comin' ta address ya straight off. I was unaware o'yer presence an' caught off guard by it when me mates an' I rounded yon corner." She paused, then added quickly, "please excuse them s'well, they're from a faraway place an' know little o'our customs." For a moment it seemed she would go unacknowledged by the older creature. Then he opened his eyes, dark brown irises fixed upon her face. Shifting atop the chest into a kneeling position, he pressed his long fingers together as she had done, and returned the bow. Giddy with relief, Ottilie smiled, then remembering herself, lowered her head gratefully to him. The primate moved to look past her at Toby, Henry, and Kevin, and Ottilie saw a look upon his face not entirely unfamiliar to her. Her friend Brigitte was a doctor who had patched Ottilie up many times, so the younger girl recognized the particular concentration he regarded Toby's arm with. Oh, s'right...Toby hurt his arm when he was savin' Henry from that trap, Ottilie remembered, he said sumthin' 'bout meditatin' ta relieve the pain, but m'not sure f'it healed while he was 'way...guess Nochtli's got the same question. Seeing that Nochtli was moving as if to lower himself from the chest, Ottilie automatically extended a hand to help him down, and was instantly horrified at herself. Although Oasis protocol had an answer for most situations, whether or not helping an elderly Shaman of considerable prestige down was politeness or impertinence was a bit too specific for even their lists and lists of proper behavior. Legs tensed on her shoulder, but Ottilie set her mouth in a firm line and left her hand in the air beside him. There was no point taking it back, what was done was done. Nochtli himself seemed surprised, and blinked twice. Then he smiled ever so slightly, and placed his smaller hand in her own. Once on the ground he took up his blowpipe, leaning against it as one might use a staff, and regarded her unfathomably. She was relieved when he finally made a move, quickly shifting to allow him to pass and bobbing her head again politely. The hand he'd touched hurt where his fingers had pressed into her palm, but she resisted the urge to rub it, only staring at the ground. He's strong. I bet he doesn't even need that pipe fer support, not really, she mused, wonder f'that's where Jerin learned it. Shaking her head, Ottilie turned to watch the monkey-like creature shuffle up to Toby. Her eyes widened as he bowed to the rabbit, this cordial gesture making her realize that Toby must really be quite important if this was Nochtli and he saw fit to bow to him. Craning his head to look up at Toby, Nochtli wordlessly pointed a long finger at the arm that Legs hadn't been able to mend. Being a creature, Ottilie knew this to be his way of asking if Toby's arm needed medical attention, but remained silent. Toby had said he was an empath to a degree earlier, and she didn't want to come across as brazen when he probably knew full well what the question in the Shaman's eyes was without her stating the obvious...

Legs felt his charge shift nervously beneath him and touched her neck. Knowing her spirited nature as he did, the decipede could almost hear the words collecting in her throat, preparing to erupt in another unseemly display. It wasn't Toby he worried about, for the rabbit did not seem to mind (or if he did, he was gracious enough to keep his repugnance to himself). It was the smaller creature that stood before him that concerned Legs.

Ottilie, hold your--he started, but it was utterly useless with her who wanted to be of good use to her friend, "Toby, this creature is o'the medical profession. He's noticed yer arm, an' wants ta know f'its still botherin' ya. F'it 'tis he can prolly put ya on the mend, f'ya wish it o'course." She lowered her head shyly then, "hope s'not too bold ta say, but f'so, beg yer pardon, Grandsire."

On her shoulder, Legs watched Nochtli tensely. Thankfully, the elderly primate acted as if she hadn't spoken, merely kept his eyes on Tobias, waiting for an answer.

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"Of course--" Jerin smiled, but it was difficult to say whether his reply was for the bit about being more forthcoming with Aurora or the bit about not liking Elsie getting to Ottilie before he did. Regardless he continued sharply, "--though I daresay Junk would prefer we sit here until the end of this century, at least--"

"--Pardon me, Master, but we have a problem," the robot ventured tersely, slithering out from between several bubbles with something round and dark clutched in its tail. Behind it Ball drew exclamation points in the dirt, attempting to be helpful by emphasizing Junk's words with visual cues. Jerin leaned to pluck the round thing from his robotic companion, frowning, "the source, so to speak?"

"I have found nothing else." Jerin held the component aloft between two claws, tilting his head at it. "This is P.I.A. technology, but it is unfamiliar to me. It is something new," Junk informed him. Jerin muttered incomprehensibly, and his hand went to twirl an ear tip in time with the wheels in his head. Burnu grunted, but leaned back against the wall, his stillness and silence standing in stark contrast to Cho's restless pacing and even voice finally demanding of Dirac and Aurora, "who is Ottilie?"

"Source almighty, Kixxy--"

"--I am perfectly serious," Cho insisted, "who is Ottilie?"

"The girl, the girl 'cross the water. You saw 'er," Burnu tried, but his comrade scowled, saying, "I was not paying her close attention, or rather not paying her the sort of attention Jerin seems to think she deserves." She turned her violet eyes back on the other two, "please answer me, who is she? Why is she so important...?" She trailed off, not saying 'to him' but leaving the implication in the air. Dirac frowned, shrugging, "no idea. Bumped her head unconscious almost immediately after I barely met her." Cho looked at Aurora expectantly, hands on her hips...

Exasperated, Legs buried his face in his claws while Ottilie colored, just as bewildered as Toby. She re-called that 'girlfriend' was a word humans used to describe the female partner in a relationship somewhere between courtship and marriage. The particulars and point of the concept eluded her, but she understood enough to know the word didn't describe her involvement with the rabbit, and that Kevin was therefore either a) mistaken or b) joking. Given the duration of their acquaintance, her own feelings about her physical appearance and overall modesty regarding the rest of her accomplishments, Ottilie unsurprisingly decided on the latter and responded lightheartedly, eyes twinkling, "I dare say Toby's the one what should be worried 'bout me havin' a go at him fer havin' yet ta dole out the proper affection an' presents due a girlfriend!" She winked at the rabbit, "lucky ya got yer looks, mate."

Her smile faded as Nochtli looked up from rustling through the pouch he wore at his left hip. Legs silently lamented their inability to tell whether they'd offended him horribly or amused him terribly. A smile seemed to play around the corners of his mouth, but it could just as easily be a grimace. He gestured with one hand, the other clutching a long, unmarked tube with a screw cap. Ottilie nodded seriously to his wordless instructions before looking up at Toby with a reassuring smile, "he says he's ready ta begin, an' asks that ya seat yerself an' remove yer overcoat."

Ottilie smiled, but straightened solemnly when Nochtli cleared his throat, giving him her attention. Wrinkling his nose, he plucked at the blue fabric of the rabbit's shirt, "he'll need ya ta remove yer shirt s'well," she said. As Kevin was preoccupied with his A.P.D. and Henry with Tobias's coat Nochtli turned to the younger girl, pressing the tube into her hand and causing her to stammer out, "w-what? Grandsire, ya can't mean that! Me hands're too big fer delicate work an' I wouldn't want ta--ow!" She flinched, scowling at Legs, who chattered back low and sharp, "don't talk back. He can clearly see the size of your hands, so whatever he wants you to do must be within your capabilities. If you'd listen a minute instead of jabbering on--"

She rubbed her neck where he'd pinched, telling herself she bit back a retort for decorum's sake (and not because deep down she knew the decipede was right). When she dared look up however a smile was apparent on the elderly primate's face, and he only tilted his head to her as if to say, once more, young lady. Legs crossed two pairs of arms, face turned up to regard hers with stern expectation. She took a deep breath, turning the tube over, "'course. What can I do?" Nochtli smiled again, long fingers weaving instructions in the air, until finally he balled up one fist and smacked his open palm against it, making a popping noise with his mouth. He urged her to translate. She turned to Toby, holding up the tube, "he says this contains a topical anesthetic. He wants me ta rub it inta the skin on an' 'round yer shoulder. The gelly will numb it temporarily, allowin' him ta pop yer arm back inta place without too much discomfort." She paused, watching as Nochtli gestured further, "oh, he wants ya ta understand he'd apply it himself, 'cept then his hands would get numb s'well an' he might pop yer arm sumthin' worse what with not bein' able ta feel what he were up ta." Ottilie frowned, "latex gloves'd actually solve that problem an' be more hygienic--" the primate quirked a brow at her. She blushed, Legs lowering his head to mutter into his claws, "--er, s'pose ya wouldn't a asked fer help f'ya had any, aye?" He nodded.