03-30-2016, 10:05 AM
Once through the gates, the trio turned to the side streets at the advice of Mireya. The site of burning effigies with mouse ears did little to make them feel welcome in the wounded city.
“You think they hate us that much?” Mickey asked once they were safely settled into the network of small alleys and debris-littered back pathways.
Proto Man shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure some of them do, Mickey. To some people, a demagogue isn’t a tyrant… he’s a superstar.”
“I think demagogue might be a harsh word?” The mouse remarked as they paused to look at the remains of a ravaged structure. It was hard to tell whether or not the building had been damaged during one of the raids on the city or simply been ransacked during the chaos that followed the attacks. Either way, the place looked empty, and the rank smell of spoiled meat gave a very clear indication as to why it was unoccupied.
The red robot responded with another shrug. “Everyone’s got an opinion.” The trio moved passed the pile of foul-smelling rubble and made their way to the next major street crossing, which stood clogged with people trying to reach the front of some line.
“Hey, what’s goi—” the words in Mickey’s mouth were muffled by Mireya’s palm clamping down over his throat. A moment later, the mouse was gently pulled back into the alley by his much taller friend. Once he was free from her grip, he furrowed his brow and looked up at her. “What was that?”
“I know you guys are here to do good for the city, but it might not be the best idea to just waltz into a public forum in your daily attire.” Mireya walked down to the end of the alley and shot a glance around the corner of the building before returning to her companions. “Yea, that’s a bread line. This place has probably been rationing its citizens for a while now, and a lot of those hungry people may blame you two for this.”
“They should blame Gilgamesh.” Proto Man shot back, prompting Mireya to lift her hands up and shrug her shoulders.
“I won’t debate that one bit, but I’m just pointing out the honest truth. Your presence there might incite people into opposing sides and cause a riot. Let’s avoid putting this place through any more grief and have you two don some sort of disguise, okay?”
The two smaller primes nodded their heads as ideas started to swirl in their heads. Mireya watched in silence as her two friends summoned new articles of clothing to conceal their easily distinguishable attire. Much to her amusement, their outfits were eerily similar, and on top of that, she actually recognized that they were both going for something straight out of a book she had memories of reading as a younger kid in the human duchies—1001 Arabian Nights.
Baggy white shirts replaced Mickey’s normal garb and concealed Proto Man’s gray body suit. Equally loose-fitting trousers materialized down the length of their tiny limbs before vanishing inside very simple-looking brown boots. Over the white shirts, both of them managed to create nearly identical brown vests that were loosely tied together. With the last swirls of omnilium, Mickey’s ears vanished within a white turban. Next to the mouse, Proto Man frowned and removed his helmet, releasing his unkempt brown hair to the desert air. In a swirling rainbow of lights, the headgear melted down and shrunk until it took the shape of a pair of sunglasses.
Placing the glasses back over his face, Proto Man turned to look at Mickey and grinned. “Copycat.”
“Takes one to know one,” Mickey retorted as the two turned their focus back to Mireya, who was still amused that they all shared an out-of-Omniverse connection through a book of desert stories. “You okay, Mireya?”
The woman stood silent for a moment before realizing that they were staring right at her. “Oh, yea, yea!” She shook her head to clear out some of the haze that had settled over her during her thoughts. “You two ready to go? We need to find somewhere to stay before we do anything else.”
“Any ideas?” Mickey asked as he turned to look at the breadline in the adjacent street.
Mireya scowled. “I’ve been in this verse for less than a day, and the kiosk at the gate was all out of tourist maps.”
The mouse craned his neck to look back at the woman and frowned. “Really? That’s a real shame. You think they have any someplace else?”
Proto Man stifled a snicker and crouched down toward the ground. With a few sweeps, he cleared away some of the sand and dirt from the partially paved walkway. “Let’s find out,” he muttered as he started to pull up all the information on Nippur’s streets. After a few moments of combing the Dataverse, he found enough data to parse together a three-dimensional map of their current neighborhood. “Here…” The machine said outloud as he projected a holographic layout of the area onto the cleared space on the ground. Although it wasn’t the highest quality, the three-dimensional image was enough to give the trio a clear idea of what was around them.
“We’re the red dots?” Mickey asked for clarity, eliciting a nod from his robotic companion. “It’s a nice picture but can it tell us what is where?” The mouse inquired, glancing up to see another nod from Proto Man.
“One… second,” the red robot mumbled as a second layer overlaid the existing map. The new layer provided small labels to identify buildings that were listed as residential, commercial, or crown properties, with the later apparently being owned either directly by Gilgamesh or by his inner circle. “Now to see if I can find records on whether there’s anyone in these places…” A second sweep allowed Proto Man to flag a few of the places that appeared to have been damaged in the battles that ravaged through Nippur.
“We should target one of the gold places,” Mireya replied as she gestured to a seemingly unoccupied crown property. “I’m going to wager a guess that most of those places, if they were being used for anything, were probably emptied out after things went down.”
Proto Man and Mickey nodded their heads and looked at one of the buildings a few minutes from the other side of the large street and its slowly moving breadline. It was four-story building that was missing most of its top floor. A stray blast had sheered away nearly all of the sandstone and wood, leaving it exposed to further degradation by the elements. If they wanted a place to squat while they sorted things out, the plausibly abandoned building would be more than enough.
“That one, right?” The preteen machine asked before glancing up at Mireya, who thought about it for a brief moment and proceeded to nod her head.
“That’ll do. Let’s go.” The half-night elf stood up and pulled a long, cape-like blanket over her back to conceal the weapon strapped to her lightly armored form. “I’ll go first and clear a path. Just follow behind me with your heads down and try not to speak.”
The small primes nodded their heads and followed after their companion as she led them into the large street.
“You think they hate us that much?” Mickey asked once they were safely settled into the network of small alleys and debris-littered back pathways.
Proto Man shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure some of them do, Mickey. To some people, a demagogue isn’t a tyrant… he’s a superstar.”
“I think demagogue might be a harsh word?” The mouse remarked as they paused to look at the remains of a ravaged structure. It was hard to tell whether or not the building had been damaged during one of the raids on the city or simply been ransacked during the chaos that followed the attacks. Either way, the place looked empty, and the rank smell of spoiled meat gave a very clear indication as to why it was unoccupied.
The red robot responded with another shrug. “Everyone’s got an opinion.” The trio moved passed the pile of foul-smelling rubble and made their way to the next major street crossing, which stood clogged with people trying to reach the front of some line.
“Hey, what’s goi—” the words in Mickey’s mouth were muffled by Mireya’s palm clamping down over his throat. A moment later, the mouse was gently pulled back into the alley by his much taller friend. Once he was free from her grip, he furrowed his brow and looked up at her. “What was that?”
“I know you guys are here to do good for the city, but it might not be the best idea to just waltz into a public forum in your daily attire.” Mireya walked down to the end of the alley and shot a glance around the corner of the building before returning to her companions. “Yea, that’s a bread line. This place has probably been rationing its citizens for a while now, and a lot of those hungry people may blame you two for this.”
“They should blame Gilgamesh.” Proto Man shot back, prompting Mireya to lift her hands up and shrug her shoulders.
“I won’t debate that one bit, but I’m just pointing out the honest truth. Your presence there might incite people into opposing sides and cause a riot. Let’s avoid putting this place through any more grief and have you two don some sort of disguise, okay?”
The two smaller primes nodded their heads as ideas started to swirl in their heads. Mireya watched in silence as her two friends summoned new articles of clothing to conceal their easily distinguishable attire. Much to her amusement, their outfits were eerily similar, and on top of that, she actually recognized that they were both going for something straight out of a book she had memories of reading as a younger kid in the human duchies—1001 Arabian Nights.
Baggy white shirts replaced Mickey’s normal garb and concealed Proto Man’s gray body suit. Equally loose-fitting trousers materialized down the length of their tiny limbs before vanishing inside very simple-looking brown boots. Over the white shirts, both of them managed to create nearly identical brown vests that were loosely tied together. With the last swirls of omnilium, Mickey’s ears vanished within a white turban. Next to the mouse, Proto Man frowned and removed his helmet, releasing his unkempt brown hair to the desert air. In a swirling rainbow of lights, the headgear melted down and shrunk until it took the shape of a pair of sunglasses.
Placing the glasses back over his face, Proto Man turned to look at Mickey and grinned. “Copycat.”
“Takes one to know one,” Mickey retorted as the two turned their focus back to Mireya, who was still amused that they all shared an out-of-Omniverse connection through a book of desert stories. “You okay, Mireya?”
The woman stood silent for a moment before realizing that they were staring right at her. “Oh, yea, yea!” She shook her head to clear out some of the haze that had settled over her during her thoughts. “You two ready to go? We need to find somewhere to stay before we do anything else.”
“Any ideas?” Mickey asked as he turned to look at the breadline in the adjacent street.
Mireya scowled. “I’ve been in this verse for less than a day, and the kiosk at the gate was all out of tourist maps.”
The mouse craned his neck to look back at the woman and frowned. “Really? That’s a real shame. You think they have any someplace else?”
Proto Man stifled a snicker and crouched down toward the ground. With a few sweeps, he cleared away some of the sand and dirt from the partially paved walkway. “Let’s find out,” he muttered as he started to pull up all the information on Nippur’s streets. After a few moments of combing the Dataverse, he found enough data to parse together a three-dimensional map of their current neighborhood. “Here…” The machine said outloud as he projected a holographic layout of the area onto the cleared space on the ground. Although it wasn’t the highest quality, the three-dimensional image was enough to give the trio a clear idea of what was around them.
“We’re the red dots?” Mickey asked for clarity, eliciting a nod from his robotic companion. “It’s a nice picture but can it tell us what is where?” The mouse inquired, glancing up to see another nod from Proto Man.
“One… second,” the red robot mumbled as a second layer overlaid the existing map. The new layer provided small labels to identify buildings that were listed as residential, commercial, or crown properties, with the later apparently being owned either directly by Gilgamesh or by his inner circle. “Now to see if I can find records on whether there’s anyone in these places…” A second sweep allowed Proto Man to flag a few of the places that appeared to have been damaged in the battles that ravaged through Nippur.
“We should target one of the gold places,” Mireya replied as she gestured to a seemingly unoccupied crown property. “I’m going to wager a guess that most of those places, if they were being used for anything, were probably emptied out after things went down.”
Proto Man and Mickey nodded their heads and looked at one of the buildings a few minutes from the other side of the large street and its slowly moving breadline. It was four-story building that was missing most of its top floor. A stray blast had sheered away nearly all of the sandstone and wood, leaving it exposed to further degradation by the elements. If they wanted a place to squat while they sorted things out, the plausibly abandoned building would be more than enough.
“That one, right?” The preteen machine asked before glancing up at Mireya, who thought about it for a brief moment and proceeded to nod her head.
“That’ll do. Let’s go.” The half-night elf stood up and pulled a long, cape-like blanket over her back to conceal the weapon strapped to her lightly armored form. “I’ll go first and clear a path. Just follow behind me with your heads down and try not to speak.”
The small primes nodded their heads and followed after their companion as she led them into the large street.