This city won't say where she's going / She won't speak of where she's been

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

Somewhere in the City there is music... and it's loud. For blocks, easily, it can be heard pouring out from open windows and doors of the building it's coming from, and closer in, the bass can felt as much as heard.

And the building—well, the little independent office has been sharply redecorated, walls scrawled with bright runes and complex glyphs that seem almost like hyper-abstract graffiti, some of the windows methodically boarded over, the freestanding sign replaced with large, hand-lettered block print reading ROXIE'S, and under that, freelance monster removal &
artifact creation.

Maybe you've come by to tell her to turn that music down—or just to visit—or to volunteer some of the materials she asked for from anyone willing.

Comments

[top-teen-38.livejournal.com]

Slobo rumbled past and made a quick turn, landing in front of her new office. He walked in and noticed that Roxie just seemed to have an affinity for making his ears bleed.

"Heya Rox... Maybe ya should turn it up, I don't think folks in Jersey can hear it..."

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"What?" She can't hear him over it.

There's a sound like a few dozen people saying 'hwoo' and suddenly the volume is at a much, much more reasonable level.

"Sorry, what was that?"

She's calling out from one of the back rooms, though in a display of either obliviousness or sublime irony, one of those little bells has been set up at the front desk with a hand-written RING FOR SERVICE sign behind it.

[top-teen-38.livejournal.com]

"Jus' sayin' hi, I guess." He said with a bit of a laugh.

"Hey, what was that stuff ya were spoutin' on the comms a bit back? Evil dream kings and such?"

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

Roxie steps carefully out of one of the back rooms. Her arms up to the elbow are crusted in slowly-drying black gunk—the sleeves of her plantsuit have been carefully removed at the shoulder to keep any of the gunk from getting on it, and she's wearing a leather apron.

"Exactly I said. There's an evil supernatural king somewhere on the ship who can influence dreams, and as far as I can tell he wants to kill or enslave us all."

[top-teen-38.livejournal.com]

"Huh. And ya need blood and organs fer that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Can't we just frag the bastich, have a beer, and move on ta the next villain?"

[venominsilicon.livejournal.com]

Gauron is... somewhat concerned over the message Roxie left on the comm channel, but more than that, it's led him to realize that here, he has methods of conducting his investigation into all the gear missing from Weapons and Possessions that he wouldn't have back in his own world. He's stopping by to see how useful this one might prove to be.

Gauron steps inside, jokingly yelling over the music, "Damn kids these days!" by way of a greeting.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

There's a sound like a few dozen people saying 'hwoo' in unison, and suddenly the volume sharply decreases to a level that doesn't leave Gauron's chest vibrating like standing in the front row of a live rock performance.

Roxie steps out of a side room—for some reason her hair's down for once instead of in her usual pair of pigtails. She's wearing what looks like a somewhat oversized leather apron (with a few splashes of black on it) over the front of her plantsuit, and there's no jacket in sight. "Hello, Mr. Gauron."

[venominsilicon.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Roxie." He smiles almost pleasantly back at her. "I'm not even sure I want to ask what you need the blood for - but I could spare you some of mine." Not a lot, because he doesn't need to be getting lightheaded when he's running around trying to track down Red and whoever he may or may not be in cahoots with, but at least should be of some help.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"It has a heavy mystical significance." Roxie doesn't smile back - but, then, when does she ever smile? "My own is tainted enough by my power to make it mostly useless for a lot of purposes. Thank you for coming to offer."

[demon-alessa.livejournal.com]

For a moment, the light dim in the office. It seems as if there is also another sound just below the music already playing: it sounds like a muffled siren, and a kind of screechy sound, like animalistic squawk, can be heard. A moment later, the demon girl appears, not bothering to put on her more comely, innocent face. To Alessa, there was little reason to hide who she was here: this person, the one called Roxie, was not like the others. Not proud like Kadaj, or admonishing like Daimon, or even quite friendly like some of the others. This once that was Roxie was purposeful, exact. For that reason the little girl comes through the door for once, an act of caution. Unlike these others, Roxie, she was sure, also made precautions.

She was drawn to that.

Alessa dinged the bell, and in her arm was a bag that was bloodstained. She looked wholly unaffected by this, waiting for Roxie as if he were merely carrying a grocery bag.

She liked the music.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

There's a weird sound like a few dozen people saying 'hwoo', and then the volume of the music sharply decreases.

Roxie steps out from a side room, twirling an instrumental drum stick between her fingers (for some reason, the whole end half of it is crusted in some white and powdery).

"... Hello again."

[demon-alessa.livejournal.com]

Alessa looked up. It was the girl she'd seen before, with those other children. Alessa eyed her a moment, then the glyphs around the place. A slow smile crept on her face, almost as if Alessa approved. In truth, she hadn't seen anyone on the ship use magical arts the old way in awhile. It was somehow comforting.

"Hello," Alessa said, and put the bag on the floor a moment. "What are you doing?"

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"Experimental thaumaturgical engineering," Roxie says, as her eyes follow that bag down. For just a moment, her expression tweaks into something a normal person might interpret as meaning 'dammit, I'm going to have to steam-clean that entire section of tile now'.

[madeofwyn.livejournal.com]

Wyn does, technically, have things to return to Roxie; the marbles and can of snakes, lent to Wyn during the preparations for the battle, never ended up being necessary. The runes on the walls are somewhat familiar, although the glyphs are not-- and Wyn is fairly sure that the systems she knows don't function the way they're written out here.

She steps across the threshold, completely unbothered by the music; in her opinion, if you can't feel the bass, the music's not loud enough. This might be the kind of thinking that leads to hearing loss, but it's also much more fun than the alternative. "Hello?" she calls over the music. (Wyn can be quite loud when she wants to be.)

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"Hello!" calls Roxie from a back room, and after a few moments she steps halfway out to look at Wyn, then back in. With a sound like a few dozen people saying 'hwoo', the volume sharply decreases.

She steps out again. She's wearing (and was wearing, at that first glance) a weird thing on her head like goggles crossbred with a tinfoil hat crossbred with a tumorous metal octopus.

[madeofwyn.livejournal.com]

"I've got your things to return." Wyn says, standing near the doorway with her hands in her pockets. "... interesting hat. Functional or fashion statement?"

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"It helps me study the thaumaturgical effects of a few items I'm studying," Roxie says, sliding around the still-intact counter towards Wyn.

So, functional, in Roxie-speak.

[birthmural]

Daimon entered without so much as a warning knock.

"What is that?" He was talking perhaps about the music but knowing Daimon it was just as likely he was speaking of the symbols coating the walls. Or perhaps both.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"'Breaking Out', track eight of The Father of Death," Roxie calls from a side room, loud enough to hear over the music.

She peeks out, just her head visible, eying Daimon.

[birthmural]

"And this?" Daimon pointed to the symbols.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

There's a sound like a few dozen people saying 'hwoo' and the music's volume sharply decreases all at once.

Roxie peers out from the side room. "My defensive systems," she says, defensively.

[crazychanger.livejournal.com]

Roxie interests Blitzwing.
She appeared in one of his dreams, once. A fragment of many, but one he remembers more clearly than ever.
So he comes for a visit (he feels awkward, almost uncomfortable; this is too social for him, isn't it? says one third, but the other two shut him up) and enters.
Random giggles like a maniac at the loud music.
"Nice music~! Vhat's ze occasion?"

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

Roxie is taking a moment to relax, sitting on the counter, head leaning back against the wall it joins to. One might almost think she's sleeping, but—

"I've been working," she says, loudly enough to be heard over it. "I've almost got something usable." Her eyes are still closed.

[crazychanger.livejournal.com]

Blitzwing looks around the room, not even blinking at the strange glyphs carved everywhere.
"...Und vhat are ze glyphs for?" he queries. There's no hint of disgust or repulsion in his tone; just curiosity.

[toariversodeep.livejournal.com]

"They're sensor and defensive weapon systems," Roxie says, sitting up straighter. "I've been watching everyone who comes in range of the building."