World Tree MUSH

  The plains north of Polyuchyn give way to slot canyons at the foothills. When the wind blows just right, it sounds like the howling of a wolf. In fact, the whole region is a national park known as Khoro's Howl. It's also one of the last places that the murder victim Valentina Stojespal was seen alive.

  Khoro's Howl is more famous among local pilots as a proving ground. Rookies and veterans of Feathergrass Airbase test their mettle in harrowing, low-altitude obstacle courses of sheer walls and mist-filled canyons. The scream of fighter engines and the distant glow of afterburners are common, here.

  Once again SHIELD Agents Anneka Stojespal and Philip Coulson have requested offworld help; specifically supernatural. They're both here, and the talking quinjet is parked nearby. It has a bright spotlight fixed on the area, as it's not quite light yet.

  The weather is miserably damp and unseasonably cold. Each agent holds a cup of coffee; Anneka's cigarette trails smoke into the mist. Her eye is restless as she keeps watch for the hired help. As of yet, no one's arrived, yet, so there's nothing for them to do but shiver, drink coffee, and talk quietly.

    Yesterday, Anneka and Rusalka got to see Lian Kamoya in her element. Lian Kamoya, Jedi Battlemaster, a calm and confident warrior-monk striding the battlefield as if it belonged to her. It was a glimpse at what one might consider the 'real' her... but if Lian herself were asked, she's not sure she'd agree.

    Lian the Seer, relaxed middle-aged adventurer, is a role in which she feels a bit less formal, a bit more free. More of her underlying personality can show through. But that, too, she's not sure she'd call the 'real' her. It's a philosophical question for another time, honestly.

    But regardless, though the woman is here as a 'common' adventurer today, those she's come to help probably have a whole new appreciation for the staff-bearing seer. Nevertheless, she approches Anneka and Phil as if nothing had changed, greeting them with a warm smile. "Hello to the both of you. Quite an interesting meeting place, this."

    Morrigan is here! Having driven her 2003 Ford Windstar on over, she emerges from the van with Mary Contrary perched on her shoulder... In her usual witch robes and leather armor, rather than playing SHIELD Agent Dressup today.
    Tugging said robes a little tighter thanks to the cold, she shuffles her way on over towards Anneka.
    "Hey." She greets before getting down to business. "So. This was the last place that girl was seen alive, right?"

    Talia Kyras was eager to explore a bit, having met Anneka and Rusalka she was interested in the Stojespal family. From what she learned about what Garo did to incur the wrath of the family, that they were willing to throw themselves into a raid in a different universe, it spoke to a family used to espionage and willing to go to extremes to settle a score. It sounded like somehting out of a spy novel.

    She's dressed in a fur-trimmed coat with a hood, bluejeans, and some well worn tennis shoes, contrasting Lian's simple seer's cloak. The hood and gloves help hide her most distinctive features, for the time being. First contact with these people might be a little overwhelming for Talia.

    "Greetings. Anneka Stojespal, is it? How's the wine?" She greets with a friendly smile, lowering her hood before bowing her head to Stojespal and Coulson. "Talia Kyras. I am here to help however I can with the investigation." She says.

    Knowing a missing person's case was the matter of the day, Talia thinks she might be able to help with that.

    Circe has seen better days, and months. She's in what she would at least claim is hiding at the moment, taking scraps of any paying job she can get that won't ask too many questions about her past, drifting out in the Tree with most of her money having gone to get her away from her own world and those trying to have her killed. Her hair is dyed red to match her eyes, which are even more uncommon appearing here, the lines dancing across the irises of her implants at work not the commonish sight here they would have been back home. She's terrible at 'hiding' though, still wearing distinctive jewelry even with the dyed hair.
    She does not look like she's slept great of late, and has brought a cup of some sort of stimulant that MIGHT just be coffee with her to this place, which she'll sip at as she steps out of her ride here. She'll also stay quiet at first, eyeing up all of the people who arrive, but making her way with the group that seems to be forming around the main two officers.

    The revelation of the ghost incidents being at least partially related to the disappearance of one of their own had surprised the Stojespal family. Valentina was someone Rusalka only knew as an acquaintance; a distant cousin from one of the side branches of the family's descendants. Someone for whom flight was in her bones; Rusalka recalls, as she arrives at the meeting point.

    A silver BMW sedan pulls up and parks as the others arrive, and the Stojespal scion climbs from the driver's seat. It's early, quite early, and she can't help but dress for the weather. Slacks, a coat, and scarf around her neck, she's dressed in black for lack of anything better - and for mourning the dead. She's not sure what she's going to find out at the Howl, but it's a trail that led here.

    "Aunt Anneka." It may be early, but she's wide awake. "Miss Kamoya and Special Agent Parton. I'm glad you were able to make it. This is..." Talia arrives, and the other Jedi gets a nod of greeting. "And Miss Kyras." Circe gets a nod as well, though Rusalka doesn't know her.

    "The family extends its gratitude to you all. Thank you for coming, and for your help in...this," she says, trying to imagine just what "this" is.

  The first of the two Jedi to arrive earns a definite side-eye from the redheaded woman. She seems to be skeptical about the whole air of a feckless wanderer. Yeah, after yesterday, this one isn't convinced.

  Next is the now-familiar battered old Ford Windstar. Anneka raises a hand as Morrigan's van pulls around the corner into the parking lot, exhaling a forceful jet of smoke off to one side. No doubt her tiny robotic helper is with her, too. An extra pair of eyes never hurts; even if they're... not... really eyes. Oh, shut it.

  Anneka waits until the newcomers are closer to bother speaking, because the intermittent wind is too loud to shout over. She looks cold and miserable and thoroughly not wanting to be here, but duty compels her, and so she huddles into her coat and sighs an annoyed okay fine let's get this over with sigh.

  "Tak--yes--you can call me Anneka, or Anna, or Captain Stojespal, or Agent Stojespal, or... whatever you want; it really does not matter to me." Anneka waves off the question with a flick of her hand. "I do not drink wine. Probably I will give it to Grandmother Dragana to have it tested for poison, and then let somebody else drink it. I prefer the house vodka."

  "So I gathered." Phil, at least, is better at being nice. "Welcome to the party. I wouldn't even be here, but a number of disappearances have been reported, including a SHIELD agent." His smile is avuncular, but there's a stillness in his eyes that suggests Lines Have Been Crossed. "This is an official SHIELD matter, now, but we'll get to that later. Anneka?"

  "This is not the last place Valentina Stojespal was seen, but it is close. One of the last, I am to understand. I..." Pausing, the pilot rolls her cigarette to the other side of her mouth, eyeing the approach of Circe, and trailing off, blinking owlishly. She glances back over at Phil, suspicious; his benign expression never changes, as though to say, Not now.

  A more familiar car pulls up: A silver sedan of the kind used by House Stojespal, which means that inside is none other than... "Sally Petrovna." The woman reaches out, solemn, and musses Rusalka's hair lightly. "Thank you for coming here at this godforsaken hour. I know you are here for the family, but."

  Her eye snaps back over to Team Weird. "Right. You lot. We are looking for any sign of Valentina, because we still do not know what happened to her. She was reported missing, years ago, and the only clue we have was a sighting in Polyuchyn--" That's the town immediately south of this place, "--a week ago. Lian Kamoya and Agent Lor'osa have both independently confirmed the sighting."

  The cigarette is pulled away; flicked until it yields a sprinkle of ash, before replaced. "Well, you can start looking, I guess," she mumbles around her cigarette, awkwardly. A hand rises to scratch at the back of her head. She's not good at this leadership thing, or this field agent thing, either. All she's supposed to do is drive the quinjets.

  "...I really don't know how any of this shit works," she sighs.

    The greeting Lian gives to Circe is a simple, amiable nod; Morrigan gets a more familiar greeting, a light wave and a pleasant, "Hello, there." She returns Rusalka's with another nod of the head, this time more businesslike, absently smoothing at her cloak as they all settle in for business. "Well, with both Talia and myself here, you can be sure that we'll find something - but I think with such a wide area to search, we might want to try with Agent Parton's talents, first," she observes, turning her eyes to Morrigan.

    Talia frowns thinly. She's a bit disappointed that Anneka would suspect her of such a thing, but it's hard to be helped when dealing with spies. "I don't exactly make it a habit to poison gifts." She murmurs softly before moving along.

    She looks confused at 'Agent Parton', assuming it to be an Earth thing Morrigan knows.

    She nods in agreement to Lian. "I and Mas-Err, Seer Kamoya share similar abilities, we might be able to do some good in that regard."

    Circe will take a long, long, louuuud slurp of her extra-concentrated coffee, steam coming off of it as she does so. She'll sigh, giving Coulson and Anneka a brief look before admitting. "My strengths are more in the areas of, ah, investigating computers or chemicals than crime scenes, but I'll do my best." Those aren't her only possible avenues for investigations, of course, but most of her others would really give away the game.
    She'll give Talia a look in particular, a hand reaching up to brush through her currently-red hair as though assuring herself the disguise is in place and clearly foolproof, before adding. "That might include being able to get more out of any sensing equipment you have, if you have anything like that around here?"

    Agent Lor'osa.
    Morrigan really likes the sound of that, considering the dumb grin the Warlock puts on for a moment before she's back to Serious Face and gets her head in the game.
    "Don't forget me: Special Agent Assistant Jolene." Mary, the little shinki, pipes up at Rusalka.
    "Man, you wouldn't believe all the trouble I go through to fill out all that paperwork and then the first world I go to to handle spooky wuju bullshit and kelpies, I get told 'no one here respects SHIELD'." Morrigan huffs.
    But then Lian says it might be best to try having Morrigan do her thing first...
    "Okay! I'll just need a second." She says and picks up the nearest stick.
    She proceeds to draw an intricate spell circle on the ground. It takes her a moment, and when she's done she clears her throat and holds her hand over the drawing.
    "Special Agent Assistant, Jolene! Do the thing!" She instructs. Mary Contrary salutes and...
    Slashes open Morrigan's palm.
    Letting her blood drip into the circle, she pulls out a hummingbird feather with her free hand and drops it onto the glowing sigil.
    She then says words...
    They are unpleasant words, guttural and as equally harsh as they are utterly Alien and Other as she calls out to something Terrible in the Far Plane...
    And out there. Somewhere. Something answers; focusing one of its many eyes upon the Warlock and touching her with just a slight, sliver, of its malignant radiance.
    Morrigan's eldritch green glowing eyes suddenly glow brighter. And thus, with glimpses of the future granted to her...
    Morrigan picks a direction and starts walking.
    Then she stops and tries another direction.
    Then another. Then another until...
    "AHA!" She exclaims.
    "We'll definitely find something if we go THAT WAY!"

    The hair-muss gets a smirk of amusement, before she lifts her hands to right her bangs. Rusalka nods to Anneka, before looking at the others. "Valentina was a cousin, though not a close one. I only knew her a little bit." This is for the others, especially Team Weird. She shivers a little, not from the cold but from thinking back to that night in the alleyway.

    Poisoned gifts? "I do not believe that was meant in that way, but rather...we did not exactly have time to examine the wine before acquiring it," stealing it, she doesn't say "and one wonders what General Garo might have intended with it. Or who. It is simply protective to test it first," she adds. Simple enough to smooth over.

    "I rather hope you're able to; I am...not so sensitive to such things," Rusalka adds to Talia. She's just a plain old human engineer and driver; the silver BMW is her favorite from among the family's collection. As a matter of fact, she's standing protectively in front of the car, entirely unconsciously.

    Mary pipes up and Rusalka laughs. "Yes, you as well, Jolene." What /is/ that little doll thing anyway? A familiar? The shinki is something she'd want to take a closer peek at sometime, she thinks, as Morrigan draws her circle. But then Mary slashes Agent Lor'osa's not Agent Parton's hand and wait what just happened?

    That way? "That way indeed then." She'll fall in behind Morrigan, quietly whispering "Agent Lor'osa?" 

  The pilot arches her brow at Morrigan's huffing, and at the end of the speech, she grins. The expression might be a little ghastly through the scarring, in the company of any other assembly. Her gaze flicks around to Lian. "That is what I was hoping. With so many different pairs of eyes--" A self-deprecating grin, "--someone is bound to see something."

  Talia earns her direct gaze next. "You? No. But I do not know what its previous owners did or did not do to it." A hand is waved, although her mannerisms are relaxed. "Besides, it is standard SHIELD protocol."

  Coulson is the one who steps up, sipping at his coffee. "Actually, it isn't personal at all." The wind whips the steam from his cup away, tearing it to shreds. "It's standard SHIELD protocol to test foreign substances that originate from other worlds. It may be some foreign substance in it could prove toxic, or incur allergic reactions." His hand waves dismissively, and he smiles, just as benignly. "It's just a safety measure."

  "But not with Grandmother Dragana," Anneka observes, blandly. "The old battle-axe is paranoid, and with good reason. It's what's kept her alive so damn long." The pilot flicks ash before glancing back to Circe, studying the other woman curiously for a long moment before speaking.

  "I don't know that this is a crime scene. I think Valentina died in town, in an alley... investigating computers?" Her red brow raises, and that eye settles full on Circe, sharp as a hawk. A hand flicks between herself and Circe, voice dropping conspiratorially. "You and I, we will talk, later. I may have business for you... but later."

  Ahem.

  "Of course they don't." She grins at Morrigan again. "We're a splinter offshoot of the United States' government, with just enough budget to keep ourselves running, and up until a few years ago, most of the country, let alone the world, did not even know we exist. Our jurisdiction is limited to just our world, and even then, it is not a guarantee anywhere we go." The grin widens. "That I can wield any agency authority here is only through the good graces of Sally Petrovna." She gestures at Rusalka, and as she turns back to Morrigan, that grin widens even more. It's looking like a death-rictus now. "...What did you expect?"

  She does immediately drop it and let Morrigan do the thing, though. And, uh, Jolene. Jolene definitely does the thing.

  Oh wow that is seriously frickin' creepy. Anneka clutches her coffee tighter and backpedals a bit until she bumps right into Coulson. He stays where he is, letting her recover her balance, blocking the wind a bit for her.

  They watch as Morrigan just starts walking.

  We'll definitely find something if we go THAT WAY!

  Anneka serenely sips coffee.

  This is going to be a long morning.

  For the sensitive, there's a definite trail, there. It's faint, but it leads further away, down the railing that follows the canyon wall. In the distance, a narrow trail switchbacks down the cliff wall, where there are presumably miles of hiking trail winding through the mist-haunted gloom.

  The trail leads down there.

    Lian is content to stand back and let Morrigan work, though she does watch with curiosity... and perhaps a bit of a wince at the warlock speaking such an unpleasant spell. She leans a bit on her staff as she waits, briefly regarding Circe, filing away those strengths; it's entirely probable that both computer and chemical analysis will become very relevant in an investigation like this.

    But once Morrigan sets down a direction, Lian straightens up fully, and says, "Well. We have our direction. Shall we?" Without skipping a beat, the seer falls into a steady step. "I can't promise that I'll find much. My instincts are quite sharp and I'm a fair hand at sensing emotion, but anything more, ah, clairvoyant, Talia has the knack for it in a way I do not." She will definitely be keeping her mind open, following anything the Force should tell her, whether it should be emotional impressions, flashes of foresight, or even just a hunch. But the younger of the two Jedi is definitely better at more... investigative sensing.

    Circe will nod to Anneka, and say. "I'm open to any other needs you might have, of course." So long as they pay, goes unsaid, but if there's something more in her wheelhouse she'd like to prove her worth. She'll keep most of her attention on that conversation for the moment, up until she catches a drift of what Morrigan is doing...
    And then, maybe unexpectedly, Circe will recoil as if sticken upon witnessing that spell with the blood sacrifice and everything else, cursing to herself in Greek, holding her own arms up as though warding off whatever Morrigan is doing. "..What kind of foul gods are you trying to appeal to with that?" She'll ask, adding. "They always only make trouble. Don't hope for them to work in your interests." She'll follow after, of course. But.. at a distance, and she seems surprisingly bothered by it for someone who was a witch and is something of a foul god herself.

    Morrigan pauses her walking just long enough to pout massively at Anneka.
    What's the fun in being a special agent if there's no pull to go with it?!
    Nevertheless, she continues walking-- pauses. Picks a new direction every now and then, her visions of the future guiding her to where the group might find something of value by determining if ' whether the future of this direction yield more'.
    "I expected... I donno, cool gunfights at the very least."
    Though she pauses, to peer at Circe as though the Mother of Witches herself had two heads.
    "My god, of course."

    The old battle-axe? Well, it's not like Rusalka hasn't heard such a thing before about her great-grandmother, but she's a little surprised to hear it from Anneka. She'd thought the SHIELD agent was a little more scared of Dragana Stojespal than that. Maybe distance breeds bravado. She can't help the little smirk that crosses her face at the idea.

    A little wave of her hand as Anneka gestures to her and mentions her 'good graces' to Morrigan. But then there's blood and circles and glowing eyes, and then Lian and the rest off in the direction provided. Rusalka hurries to take up the rear, black t-strap flats picking their way down the trail following Morrigan.

    Circe mentions foul gods, and Rusalka blinks. "A land of gods..." A pause, before she continues. "That does not sound wrong, when applied here. This place, as well," she adds, as the wind picks up and one of the famous howls can be heard. There's a sense of dislike on the wind, something she's never felt before. Maybe a bit of a prickle, as Morrigan simply answers "my god." It almost feels like her hair stiffens at the sense of presence. A sense of possessiveness, if she had to define it in particular.

    "Gunfights? In Polyuchyn? We keep that sort of thing from happening," Rusalka replies. "The protection of the town is kept with our help, of course."

    Talia lets it go for not. She can't argue with standard procedure. She watches Morrigan do her thing, curious as to what the warlock is up to. Mary Contrary helping is both adorable and incredibly disturbing to see. Something about Morrigan's incantations makes Talia wince in discomfort, like it's making her inner ears tingle.

    "Isn't your eldritch blast like a gun?" She points out when Morrigan speaks along the way. It's hard to remember the fact Morrigan commands dark powers when they make small talk so easily.

    When Lian bids Talia, the Knight nods and begins to sense out into the Force. She senses Lian as a river, seemingly placid and ever streaming, but capable of powerful waves when needed. Anneka is murky, a trudging sense of exhaustion and a desire to go home. Coulson is hard to read. He's almost suspiciously good at playing the generic g-man. Circe is an irritated storm, brought on by the mention of divinity as it rages more.

    She stops in place, kneeling over and repeating "I am one with the Force and the Force is with me." to herself softly.

  Hitching her coat up a little higher, Anneka starts hiking after Lian once the Jedi Battlemaster sets out. Coulson follows at an unhurried pace, and eventually the two agents wind up side by side. They exchange comments every so often, but it's mostly conjecture over which route the party is going to wind up hiking. Both agents seem to know the local terrain pretty well.

  "My thinking is between the lot of you, someone is bound to see something." The redheaded agent sighs smoke in her wake. "Not my specialty, so I am here for the ride, just like Sally Petrovna."

  Circe earns a long glance, and finally, a nod. Later. Oh wait there she goes to the back of the line as Morrigan works her mojo. Anneka arches a brow sharply, head swivelling around to watch Circe's departure from her immediate vicinity. O-kay. That's something to keep in mind for later...

  Morrigan's pout earns a flat look, the kind that says Anneka isn't moved by this emotional appeal nonsense. In fact, the woman looks borderline annoyed, although her features are admittedly easy to mistake for that. "If you think being an agent is what you see on TV, you are naive. There is not so much chasing and shooting, and a lot more paperwork. So much paperwork. Ughhh."

  No doubt if Anneka were associating with the house more, she'd mind her tongue better, but she seems tired and irritable. No doubt she's been researching more to do with her dearly departed distant cousin. She doesn't comment on the issue of Polyuchyn's protection, exhaling an annoyed jet of smoke as the Jedi do their thing.

  The trail doesn't go cold, but it cools a bit. Then it picks up.

  As the canyon howls, the wind turns even more sharply cold. Anneka shivers, huddling miserably into her coat. While the lavishness of House Stojespal is unsettling to her, she'd pretty much love to be back there right now instead of trudging out in the cold and wet: And it is wet. The mist is so thick down at the canyon floor that it's enough to cause water to run down clothing as though it were rained on just by the act of moving through it.

  Still pretty cold, too.

  Oh hey.

  There's an indistinct figure ahead.

  It feels... still like horror, but not as overwhelming as it had been when Valentina Stojespal had last fled.

    "Believe me, I got a taste of the paperwork just joining you people." Morrigan grumps. "Anyway I get it, I get it, it's not all flashy bits and coolness." She replies to both Anneka and Sally.
    "Well yes, my Eldritch Blast spell is kind of like a gun." She replies to Talia, making a finger-gun with her hand and waving it around a little too cavalierly.
    Right before she spots the ~mysterious indistinct figure~ in the heavy mists.
    "I told you we'd find something this way!" She says to the group before approaching the figure a bit more cautiously.
    "Helloooooo... We come in peeeeaaaace..."

    Circe seems to visibly restrain herself, before sighing and replying to Morrigan. "You should be careful, then, priestess. Your god doesn't deserve your blood." She'll slam back the rest of her 'coffee', before shaking her head one more time and then glancing about, clearly trying to move on from that topic.
    "I did bring my gun, but I do not wish to fight anyone with it. This place is rather miserable, isn't it?" She'll spot the figure up ahead though, peering into the distance with the minor bit of enhanced eyesight that she has; probably not enough to get anything that noone else could, though.
    She'll allow others to approach it first. Being in the lead for this kind of thing isn't her style, if she doesn't need to be.

    Eldritch blast? The words catch Rusalka's ears, and she listens close to the conversation between Talia and Morrigan. Like a gun...she shudders involuntarily. The Sokovian heiress lets her lips twist in a frown at the idea; she'd had plenty of distaste for the gaudy blaster pistol she'd recovered from General Garo's office.

    Dragana, meanwhile, had loved the thing. Why, Rusalka will never know.

    Circe's comment about the cold, damp atmosphere gets a glance. "This is a popular place," Sally says as the fog settles in. But before she can say anything further, there's someone distant in the fog.

    No, not someone. The sensation of prickles down her spine increases, all the way down to the bottom and beyond as the wind seems to swirl around her for a moment. If she had a tail, it'd be fluffed out, Rusalka thinks.

    "It's one of my favorite driving places," she adds to Circe, before stepping closer to the woman. Her voice drops to a whisper, just for the woman's ears. "What is it that you dislike about her..." Say the word. "God?"

    The blaster will require some more effort to get working, it was deactivated for display purposes.


In any case, Talia continues to sense and she opens her eyes. LOoking at the distant figure, she narrows her eyes and begins to wander towards the figure without a further word.

  "That was nothing," Anneka says with a grin, in regards to the paperwork. She does eye Morrigan warily when the Warlock starts waving her finger around like a gun, though, a subtle tensing in her shoulders. She looks ready to either spring or hit the deck. It's hard to say which she'd go with.

  The figure is still hazy and indistinct, but there's enough definition to see that the ghost looks sort of like Anneka, only without the burn scarring that disfigures the right side of her face, or the eyepatch that covers her right eye. A bit younger, of course; Anneka is closer to fifty than forty.

  Valentina wavers in the mist, indistinct.

  "Her name was Zhenya. The woman who killed me." She turns, looking not so much at the others as through them. She looks all right, except for the part where she was very obviously shot through the heart. Blood stains her flight academy uniform. "I didn't see her. I only saw the man who was with her, and I heard her voice. They said they were looking for pilots... they were doing some kind of research..."

  She flickers again.

  "They weren't from here."

  Anneka takes a few steps forward, eye trying to pierce through the mist, and doesn't seem to notice when she walks right through Valentina. The cadet wavers and reforms in the billowing mist.

  "They were sniffing around Feathergrass... security turned them away... I know I had never seen them before." The ghost's voice is faint, almost drowned out by the howling on the wind. "They took me with them."

  "So... what are you finding?" Anneka doesn't quite growl, but she does side-eye Morrigan with clear impatience, frowning around the last of her cigarette.

  "They have a laboratory. Underground." The wind seems to rustle right through Valentina, scattering her image for a moment. "Terrible things. They took me there... they kept me alive, for a little while."

  "They have a machine down there..." Her voice grows fainter. "It's learning... but it's too hungry for knowledge. It wants to learn... no matter the cost..."

  Valentina dissipates into the breeze, as the canyon howls even louder.

  Anneka turns, pacing along the canyon wall with her hands shoved as deep into her coat pockets as she can manage, grousing under her breath about the cold and damp and she left her scarf back in the suite.

    Shortly behind Talia, Lian walks, her expression now calm, serious. It's so very tempting to speak, to try to engage Valentina - but the girl is giving everything to speak, to say her piece from beyond death itself. The elder Jedi will not interrupt. Even when her spirit is briefly dispersed by a still-living relative.

    Only at the end, when the girl's shade is blown away on the wind, does the seer turn, facing Anneka. "'They weren't from here,' she said. I don't know whether she meant not from this nation or not from this world."

    "We came here for answers, and now we have more questions." Talia muses. She was silent as Valentina spoke, and she nods sternly in a silent vow to avenge her death. "What is Feathergrass?" She asks Anneka directly.

    Circe will flick her eyes over to Rusalka, and then murmur in a low voice. "Most gods are terrible people, and the few that aren't wouldn't want her to bleed for them like that. You mortals should have long since moved on from them, if you knew what was good for you." She'll say, not considering that she's giving away not being just a friendly hacker when she refers to mortals like she's not one.
    Circe will watch the figure in the mist, shaking her head mournfully as she considers. She'll leave the discussion of that to the others for now, but keep it in mind to inform her own later investigations.

    "Ah..." It's Valentina in the mists.
    "I'm not exactly a priestess, I'm more of a Warlock." She asides to Circe. But then her focus is on the phantom.
    "I'm finding some seriously messed up shit." She says matter of factly.
    "We're going to be looking for an underground lab. Poor girl was probably subjected to some... Bad things. And apparently a learning machine."
    Morrigan pauses as Valentina vanishes with the breeze into the howling canyon.
    "I like this Zhenya person less and less. I think I'll show her there are some fates worse than death if we ever meet."

    Valentina's appearance goes unnoticed by Rusalka as well. She does stop when the others do, looking around, but all she can see is the fog-shrouded hills and valleys. Lacking the special senses of the others has left her following along blind, but she can at least chime in with the others.

    Lian gets a curious glance. "'From here?' I do not understand...is she talking to you now?" Cobalt-blue eyes glance back and forth, trying to spot whatever it is that the others are picking up on.

    Rusalka blinks hard for a moment when Talia mentions Feathergrass. "It is the airfield my mother is stationed at. She is the site commander, not a pilot but..." Well, an administrator. "Feathergrass is one of the few military airfields in the country."

    Circe, meanwhile, gets a nod. "I suppose that is the case...but at the same time, well..." She gestures to Morrigan, who is clearly getting some kind of benefit for her trade of blood. The 'you mortals' thing gets an eyebrow, but nothing further; maybe it's just Circe's way of talking to people. She raises her hands in a shrug. "People need gods, I suppose." Philosophical, but it's a point that might be argued.

    As it is, there's a small curl of warmth around the Sokovian girl, and she glances around. Did anyone else feel it, she wonders. Or did Rusalka just imagine such a thing?

    "Underground lab? Learning machine?" Morrigan gets a blink of surprise as she relates what Valentina's shade explained. "And who is Zhenya?" Talia was right, all they have now are more questions.

  For her part, Anneka spends most of the interlude smoking the last of her cigarette. She paces slowly, too tired to maintain a restless air, but there is subtle disquiet in the distance of her lone eye. Even Coulson must sense her unrest. He's stopped trying to converse with her, instead watching the others do their thing.

  Pulling a frown, the redhead frowns. "'They weren't from here?' I admit I did not know Valentina Stojespal, myself, but that does not make any sense to me. From Sokovia? From Polyuchyn? From this world? This dimension? Aliens...?" Anneka throws her arms out in an expansive shrug.

  I'm finding some seriously messed up shit. Anneka narrows her eye. We're going to be looking for an underground lab. Poor girl was probably subjected to some... Bad things. And apparently a learning machine.

  "What?" Anneka frowns. There's almost a glimmer of recognition in it, almost, but just as quickly it slides away. "Hunh."

  There's not much for her to say on the topic of gods, though. She smokes and thinks over what was said. Part of the aura of irritation about her might be explained by the weather, but the more they learn about this distant departed relation of House Stojespal, the angrier it makes the pilot.

  Someone is messing around on Stojespal land. It is by proxy her land, however distant her claim. And that, she has decided, her silent rage erupting through the Force, will not do.

  The disconnect might be alarming: Anneka Stojespal is a towering beacon of rage, temper just barely restrained from violent action, and yet her body language seems perfectly controlled. Not quite relaxed, maybe; there's a tension in her shoulders, and the subtle sound of her teeth grinding. The emotionally-sensitive would absolutely notice that this woman is angry.

  That, and her self-control must be incredible. There is not so much as a twitch. Her hands, in fact, are preternaturally still.

  Underground lab? Rusalka queries. Learning machine? And who is Zhenya?

  "I do not know." Anneka's response comes in a voice like gravel ground together. "But I am going to find out." She means she's going to investigate, but the tone of her voice suggests what she's actually going to do is find this person and strangle them. Possibly barehanded.

  Coulson's expression is solemn. "This is all troubling news. Thank you all for shedding light on this matter. For now, I think we're going to gather more information in respect to these details, and once we know more, we'll be sure to contact you."

  "We are going to find that laboratory," Anneka interjects, voice sharp as a dagger. "And we are going to shut it down."

  "One step at a time," Coulson comments, in that disarmingly mild way of his. "For now, if any of you need a ride back to wherever you came here from, we can offer you passage aboard the Valkyrie."

    "Warlock is just another word for priestess, priestess." Circe will say, shaking her head before sighing. "And people don't need gods. Gods need people, to prop themselves up and make themselves feel good about. Well, and to spawn little godlings off of, too." She'll add, after a moment's thought. "But no matter for now. It seems like we at least have something worth looking into, and if there's actually a, ah, learning machine here then I would be very interested in working with that. Working to find it, I mean."

    Talia's brow furrows briefly. "Then we're going to Feathergrass. I imagine the lab we're looking for is there. Rusalka, can you convince your mother to give us access to the base?"

    After tossing Coulson a comm card with her frequency on it, she nods to Anneka. "I'll take a ride, thank you. Keep us informed."