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| - New Luna Landing Pad This wide, bleached white concrete expanse travels parallel to the shoreline of the planet's only ocean. Some very old black scorch marks mar the edges, and a raised concrete shuttle pad seems to have been built to the side of the expanse furthest from the beach. A beautiful golden beach runs to the southeast side while the rest is dense tropical forest, comprised mostly of beach grass, strange broad-leafed bushes, and a tightly-packed variation of a combination palm tree and birch. A well-worn path leads northeast into the dense foliage, and a clean, freshly-cleared path leads to the west. Grayback strolls up from the forest area, paws tucked into his pockets, humming an old Demarian folk tune to himself. Freyssinet was sitting by the Wolfsbane, reading a medical journal. As she hears Grayback singing, she looks up and smiles, "Mister Grayback! Good to see you again." Through the rift steps a fellow in robes, his eyes currently intent on a handful of carrots that he's counting without recognizing that he is now about four feet above the tarmac of the New Luna landing pad. He barely has time to register the circumstances before he falls to the ground amidst a scattering of carrots. Grayback is about to return Frey's greeting when the sound of somebody slamming into the tarmac catches his attention. "What in the name of Altheor??" is all that escapes his muzzle before he sprints over towards the man, looking to give him a hand up. Freyssinet drops her journal, and also hurries toward the fallen robed man, "What the..." her eyes go between the man and the rift. "Are you all right, Sir?" Father Weymouth gets to his knees, grumbling to himself as he disregards the minor cuts and bruises on his hands so that he can get to picking up the far-flung carrots, his precious cargo. "Father Weymouth mosterer clumsiest!" Then he sees the furred paw extended to assist him and hears the voices of Grayback and Freyssinet. He looks up at Grayback and his mouth falls open: "Cherished pet!" He tucks the carrots into a hemmed pocket of his robes and then grasps the offered paw, pulling himself to his feet. "Morerer uses are found every day, it seems!" He smiles broadly, then looks toward Freyssinet. "Are you bound to evening mass?" The rising sun catches his eye and he makes a faint gulping noise. "When did it become dawn? Did I sleep through evening mass?" Freyssinet raises a brow, "Evening... /mass/? We don't have any catholic outpost here. You're sure you're all right?" Grayback takes a claw and digs in one of his ears for a moment. "I could have sworn he called me a pet... must have been the wind.." He shakes his head slightly. "Catholic? How quaint!" The old priest chuckles, pats nervously at the pocket full of carrots, and then says, "I was bound for evening mass. If I somehow lost track of time..." He puts a palm to his forehead. "I don't remember taking a blow to the head, but I do feel just the slightest bit dizzy." He looks around at the landing pad. "Hmm. This isn't Sealeport. Where am I?!" Freyssinet raises a brow fro Grayback and whispers something to him, "Sealeport? This is deepcrest island. " she pauses. "What... All right, what year is it for you?" Grayback nods to Fressinet. He looks to Weymouth. "Deepcrest island, on New Luna. You sure you didn't hit your head in that fall? We can have the hospital check you out." he says helpfully. "Deepcrest Island?" Father Weymouth's brow knits. "That simply isn't possible. Not since the ice caps melted. Deepcrest Island is under thirty feet of briny water." His attention returns to Freyssinet. "As for the year, it is the sixth year of the fifth millennium of our most glorious and revered keeperer." Freyssinet sighs., and points out to the rift. "See that? Do you remember stepping through one, in... in your usual world?" both to the priest and Grayback, "At least, this time, it is not destruction-bend castori." As directed, the priest looks at the rift. He twists his mouth and shakes his head. "No. I would have noticed something as blatant as that, I should think. Mosterer curious!" Father Weymouth then peers at Grayback before looking at Freyssinet again and asking: "Is he yours? The Demarian? I am not yet senior enough in the church to acquire my own pet, I'm afraid." Grayback perks an ear, his tail twitching a bit. "Fifth millenium...? As in, 4006?" He looks to Freyssinet, whispering softly. "Ok, I think he hit his head rather hard.." but stops upon the inquiry if he's Frey's property. "Uhhh.. pet? I don't think so. I own myself, thanks." he says. Emerging from the forest along the path comes a Lunite carrying a shotgun over his shoulder. Freyssinet sighs, "All right, listen to me, mister... ? That is a /rift/. You stepped though it somehow, and instead of being in 4006 God only knows where, you are in 3006, on New Luna, deepcrest island." she blinks, "He is a Demarian, not a pet." Father Weymouth frowns at Freyssinet. "I fail to see why the two must be mutually exclusive. He can be both a Demarian *and* a pet. Many are. No shame in that. It is quite an honor to be chosen, in fact." He studies Grayback for a few moments. "You may not be worthy. Eventually, you could earn a place at my side." He shrugs. "As for this madness about rifts and time travel, I will thank you both to direct me to the nearest shuttle to Sealeport. I have *seen* the Galaxy's Most Amusing Temporal Practical Jokes before, you know. We *do* have vids in the monastery, believe it or not." Grayback raises a bushy eyeridge, and looks to Freyssinet.. "This guy is serious." he looks back to Weymouth. "This isn't a joke. This is the year 3006, you're on New Luna, Deepcrest Island specifically, and it's quite dry, else you wouldn't be standing on it." he says, his tail beginning to twitch a bit more forcefully in annoyance. "I also don't know where you get the idea that Demarians are pets, but if anyone tried to make a pet out of me, they'd find themselves at the business end of my claws." he says with a growl. "Monastery?" Ren repeats, approaching Freyssinet and slinging his shotgun by the strap. He gives Weymouth an incredulous look. "Who's the geezer in the stupid robe?" He asks, looking the man up and down, before turning to regard Frey. Freyssinet shrugs to Ren, "Fell of the temporal rift." she nods to Weymouth, "This is not a joke. And as you can see, here and now, Demarians are proud enough not to be called pets." she pauses. "What... religion are you talking about, mass and all?" Father Weymouth widens his eyes a bit at Grayback's growing menace. "Now see here, Demarian, you had best remember your place. I am Father Urfkgar Weymouth, Junior Acolyte of the Fourth Bunch of the Church of His Mostererer Holiestness, Keeper of the Carrots and Defender of the Stupid Softskins. You would do well to keep your claws to yourself!" Grayback puffs up at this point. "Know my place!?!? Just who do you think you are, pal?" he shouts, his tail swishing at a very rapid pace and his ears laying back against his head. "What kind of nonsense are you talking about? I don't care what clown group you come from, and if you want to not meet my claws face to face, you'll treat me with the proper respect!" Ren Arnassis blinks, slowly, then twice more rapidly. "That ..." He looks from Frey to Weymouth and back, impending confrontation left unaddressed. "Ol' man jus' said his name was Urfkgar?" Freyssinet nods to Ren, "Urfgkar? But that is not a human name?" she asks the robed man. "Mosterer... softskins.. now, if that doesn't sounds like our Urf... what the..." The priest gasps, takes a couple of steps back toward the rift, reaches under the collar of his robe and tugs out a tiny burlap sack on a leather necklace. He waves it back and forth, shouting: "Catnip! I have catnip! Lovely catnip! Smell the catnip! Let it calm your savage nature!" Grayback's nostrils flare with rage at this latest insult, and he advances towards Weymouth, fire blazing in his eyes. If the catnip is having any effect, it's difficult to tell. "Catnip... CATNIP!?!? I am not a common pet! I am a Demarian, I am my own being, and nobody, and I mean NOBODY owns, nor ever will own, ME!!" His claws emerge from his finger tips, after taking a step or two. "Now do we have that straight, clown boy?" By this time, he seems oblivious to his surroundings. Father Weymouth shoves the catnip sack a little closer toward Grayback with one hand and proclaims: "The power of Urf compels you!" Just in case, though, he has his other hand up to protect his face from a direct clawed assault. He repeats, a little lower now: "The power of Urf *compels* you." He waggles the catnip sack back and forth, whispering, "So sweet and soothing, the catnip. Yes? That's the power of Urf. Compelling you. And what-not." Back and forth, back and forth, the sack swings, a little burlap pendulum full of fragrance. "Compelled yet?" He peeks between his fingers. Ren Arnassis folds his arms, looking between Greyback and Weymouth. "He don' look too compelled to me," the Lunite observes darkly. Freyssinet blinks, "By the power of Urf? Did anyone else hear that?" Grayback looks to Freyssinet, breathing hard, his tail swinging madly side to side, his ears totally laid back now. "This guy is off his rocker... and I swear by the name of Altheor that if he doesn't do an about face into that rift, I'm gonna rip him limb from limb." he says, looking back to Weymouth. "Unless he gains enough sense to offer me an apology for his insults to my honor." he says with a deep growl undertone, his claws flexing. "How about it, pal." Freyssinet frowns, "Grayback... I realize he's insulting you, but he does not realize... try to calm down, please?" Father Weymouth blinks. He slides the catnip sack back under his collar. "It must be true, then. I've somehow ended up in an era *before* the Demarian weakness for mind-altering substances was introduced to the genetic code." He looks from the angry Grayback to the rift and says, "Well. I suppose I *could* just go back through. If I had a ladder, perhaps. But..." The priest scratches his chin and ponders. "Wait. You said it is the year 3006?" "Calm down," Ren exclaims, "Hell." He grunts to Grayback plainly, "I've been waitin for you to deck 'im for the past ten minutes. Go 'head, I won' tell nobody nothin'." Grayback snorts. "Ladder? We don't need a ladder. I'll throw your ass clean through it if you like." he says. Freyssinet raises a brow to Ren, "That's not funny." to the robed man, "Yes, 3006, New Luna, Deepcrest. Is that starting to go through this thick skull of yours?" Father Weymouth frowns at Freyssinet. "My skull is no thicker than yours, I suspect, although in the ensuing millennium, I do anticipate that I use a greater amount of my brain than you do at this somewhat more primitive stage." He regards the Demarian while lacing his fingers together. "I apologize if my actions or words caused any offense. The custom of my time is not the custom of yours. But while I am in your time, it occurs to me that the father of the church yet exists! And on this very island, if my knowledge of history serves. I would see him. Take me with all due haste to Urfkgar the Keeperer." "Don't do what he says," Ren offers to Grayback, encouragingly. "Knock him off his fuggin' block. You gon' let him git away with all the stuff he said?" Grayback begins to visibly calm with the apology, offering a nod. "Accepted." he says shortly, before looking towards Ren. "My honor is satisfied with his apology. Attacking him now would serve no purpose." he says, his ears returning to their regular positions and his tail calming to a casual flick now and then. His eyes then return to Weymouth. Jantine walks onto the landing pad with one hand in his pocket. He seems to be repeating "Two-thirty-four" to himself as he walks, and seems concentrated on where he's going. Freyssinet raises a brow, "You may want to speak to a militia member, then, but... I am not sure Urf will appreciate, you know." As she notices Jantine, she points him out to the priest, "That man could help you." "I don' think he really meant it," Arnassis drawls, patting down his flak jacket until finding a nutrient bar, which he pulls out of a pocket. Unwrapping it, he adds, "beatin' him over the head's really the only way to make sure he's sincere." "Urfkgar the Keeperer is the Holiestest!" Father Weymouth replies to Freyssinet. "He will eagerly welcome one of his flock. Of this, I am certain." He takes a carrot from his pocket and gesticulates with it, muttering: "The Keeperer, the Holiestest, the Mosterer Mostest." The priest bows his head, cracks the carrot in half, throws one part over his shoulder at the rift ... and that bit of carrot is reduced to dust. Weymouth offers the other half of the carrot to Freyssinet. "Urfkgar bestest keeperer. Urfkgar bestest protectorer. Throw bar." Grayback widens his eyes at this display. "Great fires.. a whole religion around a guy who can't talk straight to save his life?" he mutters. "Now I've heard everything." Jantine continues walking, apparently he hasn't noticed the group yet. He continues to mutter "Two-thirty-four" to himself as he walks, and keeps his hand in his pocket. Freyssinet blinks as she is offered a carrot, "Uh, no thanks..." she sighs. "Poor guy, he's in for a rude awakening." Father Weymouth flinches as Freyssinet refuses the carrot. "To turn down the blessedest carrot is to refuse the gifts of the bestest keeperer! Do not refuse the bounty of the Mosterer Mostest." He offers the broken orange vegetable to the doctor once more. "Take it. Urfkgar keeperer and protectorer you. Throw bar." Ren Arnassis chuckles, biting into his nutrient bar and speaking around it as he chews. "You know what throw bar *is*, right?" Grayback shakes his head slightly. "Rude awakening, hell, this guy is looking for downright shock. Better have a defib kit ready." he says to Freyssinet. Jantine finally seems aware of the group at the mention of Urf's name, now that he's closer. He looks up at the group and slows his pace, but continues walking. The priest smiles thinly at Ren. "Of course I know what throw bar is! It is the holiestest of benedictions. The great saying with which we end all Urfist litanies. And it is part of our initiation into the church. One cannot achieve the post of junior acolyte in an Urfist church without tossing a few comrades a goodly distance. Given my age, it should come as no surprise that I have risen no higher. It becomes harder and harder to throw bar the older you get. Why, to achieve Senior Acolyte, I would have to fling Father Urfkgar Monroe *six feet*. I sprained my back throwing him *four*." Freyssinet re-blinks at the carrot, "Uh, I think I'll pass on Urf's benediction, thank you all the same" It's a beautiful morning, laddy da da da. Lucius walks onto to the landing pad in such celebratory fashion, holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a massive donut in the other. Like two times the size of a normal donut. His attention is immediately drawn to the crowd, and more specifically, the guy in the robes. "What's this nut doing here?" He asks to himself, wandering on over. Ren Arnassis laughs. "Some church," he drawls, waving his bar at the priest. "Is that dress of yours required or optional?" "The Urfist robes are requisite garb for all Urfist priests," Father Weymouth answers. He then sighs at Freyssinet's repeated refusal of the Urfish carrot boon. He plants a kiss on the broken carrot and then flings it into the woods. As he watches it arc into the forest shadows, he tilts his head. "Hmm. It occurs to me that I may have just planted the seed for that very carrot to sprout in the future!" Grayback shakes his head slightly. "Well, I think we'd best not delay the inevitable and find Urf for this guy. Should be pretty entertaining." he says with a smirk on his muzzle. Jantine shrugs and continues walking, seeming to lose interest in the group, he leaves the pad. Ren Arnassis shakes his head. "Then count me out," he replies, taking another bite of his nutrient bar. "I've already had to wear a dress one time too many." The Lunite turns to head back into the forest without another word. Freyssinet chuckles, "You send away a root, not a seed, it will just waste away here. Don't worry about changing the future." "Who's the crazy in the robe?" Asks Lucius, specifically to Ren once he comes to a stop at the group. Frey gets a smile, Grayback a nod and Weymouth.. well he gets a curious, amused gaze. "Urf's taking a nap at the Greenville Base, I just came from there. You don't want to disturb the Chief. When the Chief is disturbed, he tends to be.. cranky. Like in the throat ripping way." Freyssinet summarizes for Lucius, "he's a guest from the future who seems to be worshipping our Urf. Guess that throat ripping by Urf could be considered an honor, in his book.." "Greenville?" the priest inquires. "We should go there at once. When the Mosterer Mostest awakens, I would be honored to be granted an audience in his most revererered presence." Grayback nods to Freyssinet. "Yeah.. might get him to the 10th level of ascension, or whatever... couldn't be more insane than the fact he's worshipped." Freyssinet chuckles. "As long as that worship hurts nobody, mind you..." Lucius just kind of stares at Weymouth, jaw hanging in amusement. If he was a Nall, he'd be hissing uncontrollably, no doubt. "You're a fucking loony, you know that? Why in the name of the Immortal Gods would you worship Urf, of all people?" Turning to the red-haired woman, Lucius asides, "Came out of the rift, then? I thought the date was back in the day.. before Sanc." A nod to Grayback. "Agreed. Hey, you're that guy.. that noble head, right?" Father Weymouth draws the catnip pouch out from under his collar again, clutching it one hand while the other pulls a carrot from his pocket and pokes it toward Lucius: "Question *my* sanity, if you wish, but do not question the glory of the Mosterer Mostest! Urfkgar is all that is holiestest. Throw bar." The priest nods somberly and repeats: "Throw bar." Grayback looks to Lucius, grinning slightly. "Formerly. We had a parting of the ways when they tucked tail for Pansheera." he says simply, then returns to the subject at hand. "So it would seem, but apparently they go both ways in time.." Freyssinet nods. "Mind you, my father stepping out of that rift would have been less entertaining. Not to say downright displeasant." Lucius nods, looking suitably impressed. Not at the good holy Father, but at the rift. "Whata piece of work that is." He comments dryly before looking at the carrot. "Oooh, carrots. Do you, by chance, have any ranch dip? I fuckin' love carrots and ranch dip man.. it's like beer and pretzels or cigarettes and coffee." Father Weymouth winces, yanking the carrot back. "Sacrilege! You speak like the Fallingest One. Keep thee away from the sacred carrots. Get thee behind me, Lucius." Grayback widens his eyes and perks up an ear at this. "Since when are carrots sacred? Most people around here eat them as a side dish all the time! Man, this is going beyond weird, it's going into the twilight zone, as the humans say." Freyssinet giggles, "Ranch dressing is good, I can make a mean one if you just wait a few minutes while I go in the ship." "Dude, I don't swing that way. Fuck that noise, how do I know what you've got under that robe, anyways?" The Martian makes a distasteful face. "Anyways, your amusing anecdotes are wearing thin. What's the future like? Are there incorporeal entities roaming around the 'verse sucking the life energy from anything they find? Or was that just in that one holofilm.. I can't remember." He nods sagely at Frey. "Please do. I'm off duty you know.. prolly wouldn't get in too much trouble if I beat him up and stole his carrots. Besides, I'm already deep enough in shit that another inch of it wouldn't be too terrible." Father Weymouth peers at the Martian. "It *is* you! The Fallingest One! You look fatter and older in the Holiestest Book of Urf, but there is no mistaking. *You* are Lucius! The Acidic Destroyer. The Souleater. You have many names, but one will suffice: Evil. Throw bar." Grayback looks to Lucius, looks to Weymouth, then back to Lucius. "Guess you're famous in the future." he says with a smirk. "Better watch out, he just might try to subdue you with catnip." Freyssinet blinks as the robed man continues his admonitions, and chuckles for Luscious, oops, Lucius. "Acidic? What if I just bring the Modena vinegar, would that be proper?" Lucius plays the 'air guitar of victory'. That's to say he makes the motion of playing an air guitar and looking like he's rocking out at a concert. "That's pretty cool, I always wanted to be famous. Apparentely in the future I can destroy souls and spit acid or something. I'm seriously considering starting my career by kicking his ass into the rift, but I think it might be a little cruel. Plus, then we wouldn't be able to see Urf's undoubtedly hilarious and death bringing reaction to this moron." The Martian levels a gaze at Weymouth. "So was that a no, there aren't incorporeal space monsters walking around?" Father Weymouth grabs *two* carrots from his pocket and makes a cross out of them, extending it before himself as though it might ward off the evil Martian. "I have nothing more to say to you, Corrupterer of Innocence and Slayerer of Fluffy Lambs. I will find my own way to the presence of the Mosterer Mostest. He must be warned. HE MUST BE WARNED! Throw bar." With that, the robed man scurries toward the wooded path. Freyssinet frowns, "I wonder if it's safe to let him wander..." Grayback jumps as Weymouth does his anti-Lucius routine and runs into the woods.. "Slayer of lambs? Corrupter of innocence? That's some mighty big shoes to fill, might take you a lifetime to fill 'em." he says with a smirk. He then looks back to the woods. "Then again, that nut running loose isn't a good idea." Lucius glances kind of unbelievingly at Freyssinet and Grayback, blinking a few times. "Was he serious? Does he know that I'm just a sarcastic ass like all the time?" A quick look is snuck to the Father. "Being Jeff's ancestor and him being my CO.. think you could gimme authorization to stun him or something? I'm in agreeance with that. Plus, he /threatened/ me. You both saw." A mischeavous grin appears at hand. Freyssinet chuckles, "I apologize, sir, but I think Jeff would kick my bottom all the way to Mars if I'd overstep his authority. And he'd be entitled to." she frowns. "So, we go grabestest, or no?" "I say we 'grabestest' before he ends up ticking off someone else. I don't think NEw Luna wants a banner headline of 'RELIGIOUS NUT SLAIN ON DEEPCREST' at the moment." Grayback says, jogging off after the scurrying Weymouth. Freyssinet nods and follow the Demarian. "GET THEE BEHIND ME, LUC-oof!" cries the priest as he lopes through the forest, trips over a log and thumps his head on a rock. Rendered unconscious, he will be unable to resist capture by the New Lunite citizenry. Also, he will be unable to offer further nuggets of Urfist wisdom until consciousness returns. "That's why I said stun, guys. He's a dangerous moron." Lucius shrugs. "Ah well, let's follow him in anycase." The Martian finally takes a bite of his massive donut, nodding in approval, and moves to follow Weymouth. "Is that supposed to be like some sort of Lucifer wanabe title? Damn." Grayback skids to a stop as Weymouth proceeds to trip and knock himself unconscious. "Well, that worked out well. Where do you think we should put him? Behind bars I think would be best for his safety as well as everyone else's." Freyssinet arrives, and grumbles. "Another one bites the dust." she quickly checks the priest to make sure the damage isn't serious. Father Weymouth isn't seriously injured, but is seriously quiet for a change. "Well that's nice on the ears. If I was in my Tomin Kora mode I'd tie him up and do hilarious but not serious things to him, like make him watch us eat carrots and ranch dips.. As it goes now." Lucius strokes his chin. "Good question. I'm not too sure. Can we maybe put him in the Dead Fish, restrained, so everyone can get a laugh?" Grayback frowns slightly. "The guy may be off his rocker, but I don't think it's enough justification to humiliate the guy." he says. "Maybe someone will offer up a spot on their ship until we get this sorted out?" Freyssinet sighs, taking disinfecting wipes out of her bag. "He'll be all right." she shrugs, "He was so intent on meeting Urf, why not take him to a cell of Hancock, and when he wakes up have Urf give him a visit?" Lucius stares incredulously at Grayback. "Uhh, yes it is. But I digress. I can get us a clearance to land at Hancock, if you've got a ship we can take him in. And clearance to take off from here, too." Grayback nods. "Works for me. Who's ship shall we use? Mine's across the bay at another pad, but I could get it here in 30 minutes or so."
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