Extreme Makeover

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 "Hmm... it's counterintuitive, but..."
 The aged interior of the elevated aqueduct is, as ever, a striking visual contrast of weathered stone and new-fangled magitech suspended above the forested hillside. The squawking cry of a bluejay echoes from the nearby trees through the open wall of this broken portion of the centuries-old structure, a druidic workshop converted into a laboratory. A wooden platform with makeshift pulley and elevator, clearly visible to anyone who wanders among these ruins near Zerhem, has been recently attached to allow easier entry.
 "I'm sure the gems looked something like this."
 Ivo, arms crossed and brow furrowed, is staring into the aetherglass containment chamber in which the majority of his magitech experiments are performed. Suspended within it is a cracked gem that pulses and fizzles as the device surrounding it glowingly channels elemental energy into it.
 "From what I can tell," he is explaining to his fellow scientist, "the trick to the beastkin blasphemy called Chaos is delayed release. The aether gems they embed in their skin would normally convert inner into outer aether for some elemental effect. But the energy just builds up until it... breaks through. That is, somehow it shatters what we consider the laws of the universe rather than, you know, the gems themselves, or the person's body."
 The amiable Cosmopolitan frowns, one eyebrow quirking. The cracked aether gem, his attempt to mimic what he has seen, just keeps sizzling and fizzling.
 "But this junk is just broken," he murmurs. "It's too bad Camellia is even less generous with her treasures than she is with her affections."
 The aether gems that the sinister sorceress had cruelly robbed from the body of the young merman chief of the River Delta are not currently available to Ivo as examples of how the power of Chaos is harnessed, and Meloda's Blessing operates on a dangerous scale far beyond his capacities.
 "This is going to be a lot trickier than elemental fusion."
 As if aware of his chatter, the Divine Crowned Beetle taps at the glass of its own enclosure on another table not far from where Ivo is standing. The young man turns to flash a smile at it.
 "Don't worry, I'll get back to you," he says to the beautiful bug, at which its sparking antlers seem to twitch. "I'd better, before Fabroxo here finds a brain small enough to try and fit inside your little skull."
 If anyone could do so, it would surely be the great legend himself.

• Character: Fabroxo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  "Don't be absurd, Ivo. It's like you're not even interested in properly using the brain you've got, which lacking though it might be some aspects DOES seem to have the potential for more." Fabroxo, brow furrowed, intermittently scribbling notes on a small pad at a frequency that seems to have nothing whatsoever to do with what he's saying or with what's happening in front of him, casually belittles Ivo.

  "I mean, really though. Put a brain in that thing?" The Greatest(?) Magitechnician of the age does not appear to be on QUITE so friendly terms with the beetle as Ivo, obviously through no fault of his own. "It would never work, for reasons that I should THINK to be obvious. Look at it." He gestures toward it offhandedly, then magnanimously explains to his scatterbrained(?) assistant(?). "Mammals only. Obviously."

• Character: Frankie
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  “No, no, you can’t come down here. For obvious reasons, obviously. Your muscles! They’re simply too big. It wouldn’t hold your weight and you know your legs are basically glorified fingers so if you take a tumble, that’s that! Your giant fingers snap in half and then we’ve got to invent a device for lifting super ripped ponies out of crusty old labs! You know how long that’ll take? Right, you don’t have a great sense of time. Well, you wouldn’t be able to eat nearly as many apples, carrots, and seaweed crisps if you got stuck down there. Yes, I thought that might convince you. Now hold your. . .self. I’ve got to go cause problems as I am both legally and spiritually obligated to.”
  Frankie stomps and bangs, fiddling about this poor man’s elevator in a way that is not at all stealthy. As she finally gets it working, she clears her throat, and positions herself in what is undoubtedly a very cool cat-like crouch. It suggests that she both has problems and could also leap upon the unsuspecting on a whim. Those usually go hand-in-hand anyway. . . Paw-in-paw? Nevermind.
  “Y’all down here doing nerd [excrement] again? Why don’t you do something actually useful and listen to my every demand before I start kicking and screaming and eating your furniture?” She pauses to glance around. “Or maybe not. . . Is that mold? The air quality down here must be atrocious. Seriously, dude.”

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 "Aw, thanks," Ivo replies to Fabroxo, placing a hand on his hip as he turns his grin toward. "You always know just what to say."
 For whatever reason, the Cosmopolitan seems entirely convinced that Fabroxo means well at all times. He curiously peers over the top of Fabroxo's notepad as the great magitechnician gestures at the beetle which, despite its glass protection, seems to back away from that distant hand, the sparking about its antlers intensifying.
 "Ah, how foolish of me," he remarks. "I still have so much to learn." He does not inquire as to what obscure criterion Fabroxo employs. If the Great One wishes to impart this information, he surely will of his own volition. And if Ivo presses him, he figures, Fabroxo is likely to spiral into all manner of incomprehensible explanations and justifications, and nothing will get done.
 The fact is, Ivo does not think of himself as a creative or scientific genius. He has always been a dilettante with a fancy degree from Fantasy Pseudo-Science University, and it just so happens that his engineering background comes in handy as often as his aristocratic fencing training on his adventures with Reize. Fabroxo is an endless parade of curiosities to satisfy Ivo's sense of wonder. And sometimes, when his ideas actually work, they're great inspiration for Ivo's lesser tinkering.
 And when they don't work, no big deal.
 "Frankie!"
 The arrival of his terrifying boss's daughter only further buoys Ivo's mood. He spreads his arms wide like a host offering hospitaliano.
 "Welcome to our unworthy workplace!"
 He follows her gaze to one of the corners of the aqueduct turned laboratory, near where some makeshift shelves hold hand-blown glass flasks. It seems basically everything here was built on the spot. These adventurers are a scrappy sort.
 "Oh, that strain is an interesting one," he says, pointing toward a ghoulish sploch of mold. "I could bring myself to exterminate it. Just look at the color! I think Argent might've puked there."
 They have a good time here.

• Character: Fabroxo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  "And yet your interest seems to lie more in line with the charms of the bust--oh, hello, Ms. Francine." The scribbling continues unabated, as though Fabroxo has already adapted to sudden Frankie ambushes. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, please just take what you want so I can get back to work. That's probably how the saying goes.

  "Yes, please do lay out your demands so we can see what, if any, scientific merit can be gained from your unique strain of creativity. Perhaps you'd like this fine mold Ivo has pointed out to have more of a rainbow hue? Or a horn? Or..." Fabroxo looks at his notebook, flips several pages back, and consults it somberly before clearly his throat.

  "'Wicked sick abs?'"

• Character: Frankie
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  “Hey, address’ah me with a little respect there, wise guy!” Frankie retorts, nose wrinkling as he hops, skips, and jumps toward some mold potentially old enough to drink [JUICE] unchaperoned. She straightens up, definitely not almost stumbling at all, not even a little bit. Hands on her hips, she surveys the lab proper, or “lab” rather, imagining the air quotes with unmatched precision in her mind’s eye(s).
  “See, now this little freak knows how to handle things. Do you pay this chump, doc?” Frankie asks Fabroxo, jerking a thumb in Ivo’s direction. “I hope you ain’t offerin’ him insurance. Anyway. . .”
  Frankie strolls on over toward the pair with the ease of someone who has a father who is a capybara and chooses violence on a regular basis. Strange, perhaps, how someone can embody something so specific so well. . .
  “Riddle me [THIS], most esteemed doc of the holy mold holds, what’s a gal with a lot of money and a capacity for violence gotta do to achieve the final form of evolution that is this-“ She pauses to strike a pose, hands curled at either side of her mouth in an expression that would be dubbed utterly “aegyo” in a bygone era, before managing a quaint meow. “And how quickly can you make it happen?”

• Character: The Capo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 In the background behind Frankie as she is a model, you know what I mean, and she does her little turn on the catwalk, the rickety elevator rumbles back up to the top of its route. A few moments later, it descends again, this time bearing a new passenger.
 "Sugar pumpkin, wiat for me, this was supposed to be youse and Papa's special time--" The Capo's sentence trails off when he catches sight not only of his daughter, but of Fabroxo and Ivo, and his expression hardens. The effect is somewhat undercut in that he is wearing a little black horse rider's outfit, complete with helmet.
 "I shoulda known not to have us ride so close," he mutters to himself, as the elevator sets down and he steps off it.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 "Whatever could you mean?" Ivo blithely replies to Fabroxo's outrageous accusation, as he thinks back to what he can remember of Fox's bunny-suited suplex from their previous encounter. "I would not say I have any *special* interest in the charms of [CHARMS]. If anything, you seem to have unusually minimal interest in [CHARMS], Fabroxo--"
 The mold regards Frankie impassively, somehow, despite having no sensory organs, quietly emanating a powerful aura and probably toxic spores or something. Did it just move?
 "The Great Fabroxo pays me in his esteemed presence," is Ivo's cheerful response as Frankie's interjection cuts off his previous comments, probably for the best, as she withdraws from the mold and approaches them, also probably for the best. "Naturally, I remain grateful that your father tolerates the presence of my laboratory so close to Zerhem."
 He makes a mental note to speak to Frankie a little more carefully now that he has, for better or worse, become one of The Capo's henchmen. It's tough. Every time he looks at her, he sees her staging cockroach fights in his own mind's eye(s).
 "You, uh--"
 Ivo stares at her for a moment.
 "You want a moustache?"
 He cups his chin with a gloved hand, considering this.
 "It's a crazy idea," he murmurs, "but it just... might... work."
 He straightens suddenly, losing his relaxed posture and speculative tone, as who should emerge behind Frankie but her fearsome protector in truly intimidating garb.
 "Boss! It's an honor!"
 Great, Ivo thinks. Just what he needs. Sweat dripping down his spine as he tries to do research.

• Character: Fabroxo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  "Oh, you just want--no, Ivo, by aether itself this is exactly what I'm talking about. A MOUSTACHE? She is a LADY, that is wildly inappropriate." Fabroxo's sigh is long-suffering. These fools, why don't they ever understand, etc. Even when his incomprehensible genius DOESN'T lead to the worst case scenario of angry townspeople with torches and pitchforks and other implements of scientist destruction, the as-yet undestroyed scientist heaves the longest-suffering sigh he can manage and then greets his main financier.

  "Good afternoon, The Capo. I trust that you'll have no objections to your beloved daughter's request for..." He squints at her, brain overclocked to figure out what a young woman could possibly want, before coming to a solid conclusion. "...mandibles? We DO have a spare beetle, though it seems a bit of a waste."

• Character: Frankie
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  “No chompers! And no moustaches!” Frankie adds quickly, side eyeing Ivo as she does. “Pa, tell these certified science goons that I want a pair of cat ears, with a tail to match, that would be the envy of that mongrel Jennifer herself!”
  She turns to look to her father pleadingly, hands clasped together to create an image not unlike that of fantasy equivalent of the Virgin Mary, Mother of Adventurers, Herself.
  “I sunk that guy to the bottom of the lake so fast I set a new record! All the guys were so impressed! I’ll even make you that Rueben spaghetti you love so much every week, watermelon sauce and all. You know Ma left me her secret recipes, tips, AND tricks.”

• Character: The Capo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 The Capo is nothing before the onslaught of his beloved daughter.
 "She don't want mandibles," he chides Fabroxo, splashing some of his ire onto Ivo completely undeservedly, probably. "She wants the cat ears an' all, see? Like we talked about before." As he speaks, the Capo approaches the two men, removing his tiny riding helmet and tucking it under one... arm? Foreleg?
 "But," he concedes after a tense beat, "You gotta understand, honey bear, that this Chaos stuff is for Papa's work. It's important, too. So maybe gives 'em a little longer on the cat ears thing..." He does not sound terribly convinced of his own argument.

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 "A spare beetle?"
 The Heavenly Crowned Beetle (******, Ultra-Mega-Rare) takes this opportunity to cease sending aetheric lightning coursing between its antlers, rearing back as though in terror, before scuttling to hide beneath some rocks placed within its enclosure.
 "Hmm." There's no way Ivo could allow the beetle they struggled so valiantly to catch to be sacrificed in this way. Besides, their elesphere experiments aren't close to complete. Think, Ivo. These are the sort of pinches where you thrive. "You know," he adds brightly, "I've heard that a species of giant ants burrow in the Central Plains south of here. Some scholars hypothesize that the burial mounds to which the Festival of Blessings are dedicated were first repurposed giant anthills. If we captured one of those, I'm sure, uh, Ms. Francine would have the perfect pair!"
 Reize's party has managed to get special access to the library in Castle Zerhem, and Ivo has exploited that to his favored purpose: stuffing his head full of trivia that he can use to wriggle out of bizarre predicaments.
 "And it's head might be braaain-sized," he asides to Fabroxo in a sing-song voice. "If you want to go outside your comfort zooone..."
 Clearly, he does not fully respect Fabroxo's mammalian focus.
 "...Cat?"
 The magitech scientists are lost in the sauce like it's pasta, so when Frankie corrects their misunderstanding, with Capo's forceful emphasis, it takes a moment for Ivo to process.
 "Well, that... is a mammal."
 He glances at Fabroxo.
 "But... a human becoming a beastkin...?"
 He's never heard of such a thing.
 "I don't even know where we'd begin," he murmurs. "The beastkin blasphemers can bend the power of Chaos to their wills, but..."
 If anyone would be driven and deranged enough to try to use Chaos beastkin-style and embed gems into his skin or something, it could be Fabroxo. But grafting animal parts onto a human body is a little different than putting a human brain into an animal's body.
 ...Isn't it? Is it? What's our standard of normalcy again?

• Character: Fabroxo
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  "NO. No. Absolutely not." Fabroxo crosses his arms in front of him, forming a big X for emphasis. "No extra sensory organs of any kind. The mind can't deal with the additional input without SHATTERING into MADNESS, I have CONCLUSIVELY proven this with practical experimentation. No third eyes, no extra ears of ANY species, one nose is more than adequate for anybody in their right mind, and I have sworn off tongues entirely unless somebody gives me an EXCELLENT reason to subject myself to that...HORROR again."
  The genius pauses then, a thoughtful expression creeping onto his face. "Well, it's true that I didn't have access to present resources, resources which by their very nature change what lies in the realm of possibility...hm. Alright!"
  Fabroxo slams his notebook into an open palm, having successfully immediately convinced himself. "Let's start with a tail and see what happens!" He moves with no hesistation to the elevator, tucking his things away as he prepares to depart.
  "I'll be back with my shovel, Ivo try to be helpful and see if you can remember anything about traditional beastkin burial practices by the time I return. Ah, and Ms. Francine, do you have a color preference?"

• Character: Frankie
• 2 years, 3 months ago

  “With a request like this, I’ll endeavor to not be picky. Just make sure it ain’t too mangy, doc!” Frankie replies with a bright, angelic smile. She then turns that smile upon Ivo, eyes glittering with something not angelic at all. “I bet you’re real book smart, Evan, so I trust you to do a good job! Especially since my pa over here is so important and has so much invested and makes so many sizes of them concrete shoes. . .”
  Frankie claps her hands together and sighs dreamily. “Pa, you are certified the best and I’d kill every man, woman, and child who said otherwise!”

• Character: Ivo Galvan
• 2 years, 3 months ago

 "Burial practices!?"
 Eyes widening, Ivo startles to stare at Fabroxo as the genius, having already completed his 180, moves to depart. He soon is glancing between Frankie and The Capo with increasing desperation, finding himself unable to decide who is the more frightening.
 "Are you *sure* you wouldn't prefer a moustache?"
 If this goes wrong, *his* burial will be at sea.