<span style="font-weight: bold">@ Ome (Stella):</span>“Absolutely not!” The man says, not indignant, but rather reassuring.  “This is the most popular combat entertainment production on the continent, and we're merely offering the spice that makes so many matches a little more intense... of course we won't do all of these, and we won't have you participate in anything you don't want to.” You get closer and closer to the location, it's not that far off, and is soon in sight less than a block away, and the gentleman is oddly pleasant about the whole thing.  If you like, actually... the Firin' Oziran JUST walked in.  If you'd like to agree on match terms with HIM, you should get here soon.  Just a sec.”  He muffles the phone again.  Then... “He'd be GLAD to speak to you, Mrs. Limia.  He says he's actually looking forward to it.  Mr. Cruz, that's his name, he's sitting down right now.  Very nice man outside of the ring.” He adds.  “Hope to see you soon, then?”<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">@ Chiro (Onyx):</span>“Well, that's just the thing.” He says.  “It won't be powerful at all.  There's no ENERGY in that town.  There's no wind, and like I said, dust settles in a thousandth of the time.  No one's dumping it.  Entropy corruption implies death – that reality itself is dead, in a sense.  Magic won't work there, but thanks to the overarching paradigm of Velle, neither will technology.  The whole thing  will be almost a medieval dungeon romp in an old west town.” He likens it.  “I'll certainly be returning, I want to know what the hell they were doing.  Because for all we know, our attempts to mix paradigms, like they were back then, could result in the death of both forms of working reality – just like in the ghost town.” He takes a breath.  “Save for nothing attacked me there.  Nothing WAS there.  Not even flies.  They must get freaked too.” He giggles.  “But seriously, I don't want our projects to have a negative impact, that's why I insist on a closer look.  And no better man.” He stands.  “So, get some of your contacts in order – folks you trust.  Tough folks.  And be honest with them about what I've seen.  I won't have someone going in just to run out right away.”<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">@ KavenBach (Santi):</span>“Did you hear?  About the hooker?” The girl says as you approach, though it's clear she never even saw you.<br/><br/>“The one who died?” The boy looks concerned.<br/><br/>“Yeah... it's that Jack the Dipper guy... all they found were bones and a license.  It's freaky.” She shudders.  “Dental records, they say, but it's some genetic freak who swallows his victims alive and whole, and leaves nothing soft behind.  I hope I never...”<br/><br/>“Don't worry.” He grins, leaning across.  “Just don't show any belly.” He adds, to which he promptly gets slapped.  “AH!  I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it...”<br/><br/>“You wear those weird foreign Velle clothes, and all the boys stuff YOU wear shows naval.” She snaps.  “You look like you'd rather be dating a GUY when you wear it!”<br/><br/>“I'm sorry, Shari... I'm just a bit afraid too.  I'm not saying anything, I just want... for you to be safe...”<br/><br/>Shari sighs.  “I'm fine.” She says.  “I don't like having to call you all the time, either... it's getting old.  But you STILL CALLED ME A HOOKER, TIM!” She raises her voice a bit.<br/><br/>“Shari, stop!” Tim rasps.  “I didn't mean anything!  Look, I'll make it up to you... I'm sorry, just don't yell...”<br/><br/>“We gotta mix it up sometime.” She says, still not looking at you as you take your seat.  “I want something wild.  If you must know...” She lowers her voice a bit.  “I'm kind of a little interested in...” Shari pauses.<br/><br/>“Go on, anything.” He grins.  They're clearly lovey dovey, and a handsome couple no less.  Both have short hair, the girl screams of tomboy and Tim almost looks like a passable subbie for anyone.  Gentle features make him to be in his late teens, maybe early twenties, and cute as all getout.<br/><br/>“I wanna mix it up with another chick and you.” She whispers, barely audible to anyone but him and yourself.  To your right, you can see out of your peripherals, Tim's getting a hint of a nosebleed...<br/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">@ TaciturnTiger (Jori):</span>The man is dressed in a plain black suit, red tie, no glasses.  He looks government, but not the gestapo sort of MIB (Men in Black) that nose in on such weird situations.  “Agent Carlos Lupin.” The short wolfish-human anthro reaches slowly for a wallet, and flashes what at this distance seems to be a legitimate government ID.  “I've been assigned to investigate a possible violation of paradigm that could have caused this fire.” He explains quickly.  “Not that I NEED to tell you that, but it's no big issue.  It's been reported that trying to implement Ratio technology near the wall never works, but can just occasionally have unexpected, possibly dangerous results.” He takes a deep breath.  “If I might ask who you are and what your business is here, though judging from your casual but professional dress, and where we are, I'd wager either a real estate agent or insurance?” He smirks, smug but oddly pleasant.  “Would I be in that ballpark?” He holds out a hand to shake.