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Through the Living Heir

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  1. “True. Perhaps we should establish a system for classified ads - there are around a half-dozen recruitment efforts going on that the Authors haven’t noticed.”
  2. He smiles back. “Exactly. After your teaching, any degree-applicable subjects will be sufficient for one.”
  3. He nods, liking the way it sounds. “I may try for a doctorate, as well. In Applied Metaphysics, perhaps. Or whatever it is you will be teaching.”
  4. He frowns as well. “The motifs here are excellent, even if it makes combat difficult.” He shrugs, going off on a tangent to change the subject. “I’m thinking of making my last name Clarke, and my middle name something like danger so I can quip about it.”
  5. Rebus turns around and smiles. “Ah, you’re alright. That’s good.” He sits down in a chair of utility fog. “Your brother has not yet returned, despite me baiting him.” “Yes, certainly. This place is reconfigurable. I’ll get you a remote and a teleportation beacon so you can travel too and from here, though once we begin making progress we’ll likely need to install teleportation shielding.” He demonstrates by having a table rise out of the floor in front of him, then tosses the man a quite intuitive remote. He ignores the comment on his sanity.
  6. The group turns back to eating, and the rowdy conversation turns to lighter matters. Rebus shows up at Ruia’s palace, and begins repairing the damage from the earthquake. He knows that teleporting directly to her might not go well.
  7. They clap her on the back. “Good! Keep that attitude - it’ll help you.”
  8. “Of course! You get power, immortality, luxury, battle. You simply cannot leave.” The group is still alternating who speaks, each contributing phrases to the explanation.
  9. “Money, excitement, power, immortality. It’s a closed loop, though. They let us buy things and live here, without death, but without Fuel? Our hearts, lungs, brains, limbs simply stop.”
  10. Rebus swings his Plotblade is a return salute, the long, ornate sword flashing. It’d been empowering him the entire time, but now, with it in his hand, he feels fully prepared and full of power. He begins to walk forwards, spinning the blade in figure eights as he fully draws upon the power. The mercenaries smile and cheer, talking about the cell’s layout, introducing some people, mentioning their last jobs, speculating on what the Ghost will have them do next. It’s a rowdy conversation, but these people take her in pretty much immediately.
  11. They slap her on the back, passing a plate of food to her. “You’re new, right? Welcome to the glorious Machination. You’re never leaving, so we might as well enjoy it!” Rebus nods. “I shall use only the powers of my Blade and my training.” He summons it back into his hand, hoping Atredies will take the hint and realize he could have done the same.
  12. It opens into a chaotic room, numerous people similarly augmented eating at tables. Some are laughing and joking, but some eat in mournful silence.
  13. Rebus’s arm twists back to normal, and he deactivates the force field generator. “Shall we name more interesting conditions?”
  14. The arm works fine, even moving perhaps with more force than it would before. The room is pretty small, effective just a bed and a door. The wrist twists, cracking and beginning to crumble into nanomachines. “Unfortunate. Your blade is rather interesting, especially given that your first act with it is to try to kill me.” He swings his knife at the hand holding his fist.
  15. The laboratory is sleek and futuristic, black surfaces with tron lines running through them and white tables with tools, samples, and open spaces. Rebus’s own coat and other clothing matches the room, though the glowing lines through them are stationary and only orange. “I am indeed a scientist, and I have samples of Nullite and Prismtite. I met a version of you in a trial - a projection of the future, aiming to teach me caution. Hence recruiting people to advise me, rather than blinding forging ahead.” Her left hand, and a connecting strip down her the inside of her arm, is unfeeling, made from black metal.
  16. Rebus smiles at him. “The former and latter are true, I would say. I do not consider myself to be a fool.” He walks through the massive laboratory as he speaks, lit intermittently by lines of light traveling through the floor. “I called you because I know of your expertise in the fundamental substances. I have worked with you before, though not in reality.”
  17. Rebus takes the punch to his face, but without much effect. His skin is still enhanced by nanomachines, and the speed cap reduces the impact. He brings a similarly slowed fist at Atredies, frowning. “What are you planning to do if you win this?” @NameIess, do you want to bring Balitan to Rebus or doing something with Rebel? @Halcyon The Only Ruia wakes up in a different room, lying on a table. Her left side feels numb and strange.
  18. Yup (and then he gets another nonsense weapon, which will be interesting). I can run normal trials as well, though. Perhaps I will bring Sagerian back from that half-finished conversion.
  19. Well it is, but that’s the most coherent Meat can do. To provoke character growth unrelated to nonsense, either he has a lot to learn or someone more sane must be considered. Although I suppose the whole outsourcing thing means that Meat could run trials that need insanity, and Omen and others can run different styles.
  20. Yup. My sarcasm was less effective than I expected. I should have wrote “Wow, such positive feedback.” And as I said, I can probably run actual trials if I think of a character to do it.
  21. Meat falls asleep and begins to dream. In this dream, he falls asleep and begins to dream. If italics could stack the letters would end up sideways, or even upside down. But they don’t, some Meat wakes up all the way and turns upside down to compensate. Then, he turns himself inside out, and vanishes. Wow, such positive feedback. Although Meat did get lucky there, with the fact that the brave adventurer is suppressing his insanity.
  22. Atreides’s arm abruptly jerks to a stop, and Rebus takes his hand and grabs his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife via a pressure point. The knife falls, then moves too fast and stops in mid-air. Rebus calmly catches it. “I’m sure you’re familiar with this device, though I should like to change the rules again after a few moments of this.”
  23. Meat grins widely. “All the time, except when I’m not! Even then, sometimes. Just say drab eht nocab three times if you need me!”
  24. Oh, that’s why the name sounded familiar! Also, did he just ignore getting headbutted in the throat? (Or at least an attempt to do so) Rebus puts Atredies’s knife back together, assembling one for himself. Then he slowly stabs at his opponent.
  25. Rebus ducks, trying to make Atredies slam Rebus’s head into his own neck. “You want me to bring out some ray guns? That’s a pretty established tradition in the sci-fi industry.” The parrot-man trips, then a large foot comes down on top of him. Its toes hurt to think about. Meat does a few soup reps with his eyelids, then considering both requirements complete, ends the vision and tries to bring the brave adventurer to the Dreamsmith.
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