Pax RP

<big>Shards</big>

Navigating between the desolate rocks suspended in space always left that nagging notion at the back of her head. Where do the shadows lie? Sure, the she could spot any number of reclusive spots that might project her location at anytime, no matter how hard she would try to avoid them-or watching out in the open in sheer pleasure to savor the distress.

"I have to keep retracing my steps... I have to find her..."

Followed with an exasperated sigh, the woman sunk her weight down on a petrified log out in the plastered wasteland. She wrapped her shivering thin frame in a tattered blanket spotted in a house at the edge of being a pile of rubble, yet still unable to rid herself of the bothersome winds sapping the precious heat away. Both hands baited the wretched sheet closer to themselves as they grew stiff, hoping they would confer some meaningful amount of warmth before frostbite tried to settle in the rest of her extremities.

She weakly gazed up at the formation out above with contempt. The cerulean seas unceasing in their mockery towards the lone figure on the shattered world, with the shattered woman clinging on to barely an existence felt worth living. Why does everything oppress me so? She refrained from spitting out in defiance, not wanting to dip closer to de-hydration. If I just stayed there, none of this would be a problem...

Grinding her teeth, she murmured an incoherent NO under the tepid trail of air from her lips, nuzzling tighter against the rippling arms clutched tightly to her chest. She refused to crawl over to her with tail between legs in submission, begging for release from the mortal coil; even with her flesh wanting to wave falter out on her. This one would keep pressing on until she broke through to wherever she was destined to be.

"I am better than that... I just... Need to keep... Moving... Forward..."

<big>Comforts</big>

Slumbering peacefully in the observed room, the scaly hide of a mother-to-be moved faintly as she curled instinctively around her clutch of black eggs speckled with blue. The hybrid took great care to protect her developing offspring in the shielded abode offered to her out of kindness.

"So adorable..." the man mused, closing the door quietly so to not disturb his guest: Drausus had taken an interest in this unique being since he met her, knowing how terrible of a burden it must be living like that. "Despite the power she possesses, Blue still clung onto her softer side nonetheless..."

Frozen in place, he slowly gazed over at the other door in his silent stroll in the house. Kara, the daughter he and Stacy (his partner?) adopted some time ago, having fallen in awe with her from the very beginning when they found at the orphanage, signing for her release from the troublesome home. The Jentil couldn't bare thinking if something would ever happen to his pride and joy.

"Drausus... Why are you up so late?"

Straining her eyes at the reminders of long-desired sleep, she blankly stared at him down in the coridor. "Seriously... You should go back to bed," Stacy yawned out deeply. "Pacing about like this isn't good for you... You know that better than anyone..."

"I know... It just... Bothers me... She is so young"

"As all kids Kara's age are; just let her live a little... please?" she tiredly pleased, resting an hand on the Jentil's shoulder to comfort him.

"... Alright..."

Briefly smiling, the woman gave Drausus a quick hug before swerving her drained body back to bed, leaving him alone to return on his own. He reluctantly pried away from the closed door as his feet shuffled into the opened bedroom and flopped on the mattress, still worrying about Kara, feeling the comforting touch of her hands caressing down his back.

"C'mon... She will be fine... Don't work up so much stress right now..."

A low rumble wavered out in response, giving in to the ministrations offered in consideration. He ought to stop letting his mind run amok with those depressing visions it kept trying to formulate at each moment of rest, instead rather focus on what outcomes he can influence. Feeling fortunate that Kara wasn't the rebellious upstart he imagined his child to be many years ago.

<big>Pains</big>

"GODS DAMMIT&#33;"

A loud thud followed behind the tiny being of rage as the door slammed shut, she came crashing down on her bed with pillow pressed firmly in place to muffle the raging screams. The Distortionist, dealing with another spiel from her mother-with Suzan tagging along for the ride-sent Ainhoa straight off in huff at both them.

Feeling bitter deep down, the young one's fury raged harshly against the softly mound she gripped. Oh, you should find a boyfriend, Ainhoa. Oh, you need to relax and stop acting like such a prude. Blistering, her purple tail seared as the familiar visage it bore snarled the sharp fangs in reflection of the tempest within, glaring at whoever so dares knock on the bolted door beyond the bed. Why don't you take it and SHOVE IT&#33; Oh no, YOU ALL LIKE THAT TOO MUCH&#33;

As the minutes bleed into hours, the flurry of wild emotions refused to settle the maelstrom churining within, rather it sought out to lash about the room. Torn asunder, the room felt the animosity reflected against it. The walls bearing the sting of jagged marks as the floor carried the rubble that was once furniture upon its back, stained by the darkness of Ainhoa searing the ground after her outburst. She couldn't shake off the seething pains inflicted by the voices constantly looping in her mind regardless of what was done.

"Why... Can't they... Let me be me," she slumped to a curl, breathing fallen quite shallow as her body tried to muster up more energy to ravage the surroundings. "All I want... Is to be 'me'... Not... Like... A demon..."

A single white orb glanced along the battlefield, spotting the murky patches scattered still boiling with vitriol. Ainhoa silently coaxed the spun off pieces to rejoin her core. Creeping, lumbering, or merely oozing against the damage flooring in their return to the motherland. Hardly anyone in this dimension came over to just talk to the young one, even her progenitor had a tendency to only making things worse when she happened to be in one of those moods. ... She wasn't... Always like this... That Dragoness did help her... And Altima... When they returned to their roots...

Amalgamating the varying degrees of anger back inside, they blended slowly into a single goal in mind. The Distortionist stood back up in her humanoid form, reaching the height of her mother as she paced in deep thought, reabsorbing the lone demonic-like appendage that sported itself on the form she took. I know where I need to go, she thought, sinking into herself and vanished without a trace.

<big>Security Protocol</big>

Casually sipping from a decorated glass, the fizzy bubbles gave Zurine a lingering chill as it slid down the back of her throat. Despite the benefits of the job, it grew quite tedious being stuck behind the desk all day. "Oh wouldn't I kill for some fresh air," she lamented, brushing back her rather long stylish hair, feeling the need to pull it back in a bun. "Back to work I guess."

Tiredly, her eyes darted about the three monitors sported above the desk, relaying the tasks from stalk to brain that were requested to be completed today. Instead it took all night just to keep close to deadline. Without warning, the woman planted herself with her palms as one of the fellow co-workers strolled by, giving an unnecessary prodding in the back.

"Iz? What the hell&#33;?"

While it never really showed, his stern exterior had this annoying childish side that somehow found ways to irritate the exhausted Zurine. "Can't you see I'm busy? Go back and look over the samples I sent to you earlier-"

"They didn't arrive."

Zurine left a blank stare at him, not believing what was spoken. "Check again, it should have arrived by now," she told the white-haired idiot, only to be given the same response once more. "Fine...Now to your chair and bother Catalin. I'll resend it."

Letting out a sigh after Iz departed from her cubical, the once lax fingers resumed their dance upon the sleek wireless board. There were days Zurine wished she wasn't as well-versed in code and capabilities, wanting to just be the personal receptionist once more. The whole group would fall without me at this rate, she let herself believe in private, the compulsion of pride goading her own to type further keystrokes. A line of code here, a transfer of files there, all to stay queen of the mountain... Well... As close as one could without being stuck in business meetings with high-end clients. "... Where are you... Grimm.exe? What weak-sauce."

Drag, drop, done; or at least she hoped. The download bar moved at a snail's jog through salt, being slowed by the various other traffic holding up the transfer. "No wonder it got lost. Catalin better not be hoarding most of the data on those sites again," Zurine twitched faintly at the mere mention, whatever hobbies that co-worker had were far from pleasing upon the latest glance on the pair of screens down the hall.

More than that, though, she could try pausing a few files over on her line. The rest of Pax failed thus far to establish any form of information infrastructure despite the numerous intellectuals that resided inside its dimensional borders. Perhaps if all these petty squabbles between and lack of communication, maybe they might have a chance against any real invasion?

"After all, the Mad God's influence still rings throughout the land," Zurine clicked her mouse absent-mindlessly while lost in thought, tipping her soda in the process which lead to a string of expletives past her lips. A bit of irony tang at the cold sensation against her lap which felt far from pleasant...

[DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE]

After having to deal with the unfortunate messes (a few viruses popped up from a certain person's computer when she had to defrag it), one could finally say 'A job well done.' Zurine hoisted herself up with an audible yawn. A short stroll through the complex would aid the aching pillars that supported the woman, grabbing her tablet from the desk before wandering off.

<big>Cloud Nine</big>

Drifting away from one of the desk of the most (in)famous employees of Aznar Tech were billowous clouds of steam, which saturated the air in the lingering scent of strawberries and cream. The seemingly petite woman radiated a strange charm in the disheveled manner that she arrived with auburn curls that rarely were tidied out frizzled status. Compounded upon whatever clothes, or lack-there-of, Catalin yanked out of likely equally messy closet; deniem and low-shirts being quite common. A fashion-nightmare some summed the woman on passing-by.

How could such a worker maintain thier job baffled many in the sector. Yet, Catalin usually skim past the threshold somehow where any other would have been fired at a drop of a hat. Such speculation and gossisp exchanged between whispers steadily rose higher from far side of the lake of theories. Catalin was among a handful that supposedly had regular contact with the owner himself throughout the day, despite how a few try to downplay the strangeness of this. Seldom rumors of potential outsourcing to Kata tend to be dissmised with little thought, as the idea of Frostwalkers waiting in line to punch in for the day would descend into a mess of ideas and ruined office supplies. Still, it sparked an occasional laugh in the break-room.

Rather, at least within some circles, figured the news of a scandal would jolt through the company any day now. A cesspool of dissent and laughter echoing for weeks, months on end of the Mr. Aznar giving 'overtime' for a special someone that drew his eye. Generally Zurine herself would go out of her way to snuff out such discourse personally. A possible love-triangle in the works?

"Mmmmm, so good..."

Leisurely lifting up the drip tip to her lips, a dragged out breath drew in the cocktail of flavors that left a tangy zest across the humid buds as it was exhaled back out. "A little menthol goes a long way,' Catalin mused with delight, eyes half-focused on a yellow-duck knocking aside the rain in her video game. "Hopefully she can clean my computer again soon, I need a little more action than besting my rival..."

Catalin spun the office chair weakily with a heel, rolling along the sleek floor out in the hallway while going about with both devices in her hands. "Maybe Iz could work around and patch my phone in the general network again?" she stopped to ask herself out-loud, being ignored by most cubicles on either side. Or met with a disgruntled groan by those wishing the 'glitch' stayed like that.

A quiet drive down the lane displayed a pronounced OUT OF ORDER message above the elevator, suddenly popping her optimistic bubble. She painted a somber frown across her face as she turned back towards opposite wall of the room. Looks like it be another walk again.

<big>Pressure</big>

The tendency for Aznar Tech to attract a range of applicants in its limited advertisting rarely surprised much of the employees since reestablished by one man in Pax. Beings from all walks of life, young or old, Doctorates to dropouts, were accepted through discretion by the founder himself. Still, as like the infamous hedonist now sulking he passed by, Izotz possessed a different charm.

Typing away at the plain-looking keyboard, the white-haird man went about revising lines code to patch up any possible doors for hacking. Apart from a few troubles, it was quiet day for Izotz... apart from one thing that compelled him to get up from his chair. He stood a fair amount taller than most other workers, even compared to Zurine herself as he poked the two bobble-head versions of themselves on the desk.

"... Didn't get the file from her..."

Stern... Amused... Content? Inferring the current state of his mind felt like a challenge in itself to those who dared; with subtle rise and falls of lips were quite minor except the occasional strange act that took everyone's attention. The uncanny nature had some believe him to be another one of those 'hollow walking trees.' the company started assisting disenfranchised tribes through programs as they slowly filtered into main Pax; yet still only rumors. His files on record listed him as human like most other employees, yet it didn't stop people from wanting to distance themselves with one extruding such weirdness.

Izotz seamlessly sauntered out his cubicle in one smooth motion, hand lazily dragged along the row short wall as he murmured the sound of race-car to himself. These strange mannerisms were well known among his peers. Always a few core traits stuck to him while enacting random gestures that felt out of place to what a sane person would normally do...

"Fine...Now to your chair and bother Catalin. I'll resend it."

((Adding more later, focusing on Itxasgorrieta atm))