Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[Hitomi Ishida]

Mage's Guild - Ground Zero:

With Li, Kali, and Thomas Bravot.

Though she came off as terribly optimistic at times, Hitomi was a realist at heart. She had refrained from getting involved in the misfortune that had befallen the city of Sigil from the hands of the being as Ertai. The young woman had simply watched from the side lines as men and women through their lives on the chopping board in order to save others or themselves. The fact that she hadn't done the same, an act that went against her fundamental nature, calloused her heart before becoming a weight she almost couldn't bear. Hearing Mr. Bravot inform her that her intervention may have been more beneficial than not, lifted a bit of that weight away. Though she was still uncertain whether this was true or not.

The offer of assistance seemed to be subtly be pushed aside, unlike her apology. From what she gathered, the Mage's Guild wasn't completely on the up and up. Seedy sounded more like it, as the way he put it, the previous heads weren't particularly in their right mind. He questioned whether or not she would see anything left to save and she frowned a bit.

Blue eyes ran across every plane of the world around them. Corpse riddled the area. Relics were scattered or destroyed. She could see the remnants of life; souls of the departed, spirits. A void filled the area that she was sure only she could feel. Not just an energy devoid of life, but of purpose as well. Corrupt though some of the mages may have been, there was something missing here. Time, memories, and life all taken away. A legacy. One originally built on good principals she believed. If there wasn't something here to return to, where would people go? Would the sacrifices of the past become worth nothing?

She didn't like that idea.

Before she could speak on her thoughts, a cry from above broke her concentration. Turning, she was able to determine the source. A beautiful crystaline construct, dragon make, flew towards them glowing with a flickering flame at it's heart. A magnificent sight. Kali stood on Hitomi's back and hissed at the being.

As the creature approached, Li moved to stand before her. A quick gesture that he had given no sign to. Always quick she thought. Always assuming she needed protecting.

When he reached for one of the weapons on his back, she stayed his hand and watched as the beautiful construct folded in on itself, reducing it's size and shape into that of a man. A dapperly dressed man she noted as he approached them and addressed Bravot, begging pardon.

It's eyes passed over each of them in turn, though it seemed his eyes lingered on her in appraisal. She said nothing and made no move aside from stepping back to invite him within their space. Oz as he was greeted.

Hitomi did her best not to pry into their business, despite it taking place in front of her. She took note of a few things regardless. The first was that Thomas Bravot was injured. She wasn't sure in what manner, as he was doing his best to conceal it, but it was obvious in such proximity. The second was that he was a man capable of dangerous action. His threatening words in defense to someone's impending death were a bit chilling. He turned away before accepting a phone and speaking into it.

The construct known as Oz seemed unabashed by Bravot's words. He replied in turn, a monotone and almost robotic voice, countering with an almost matched seriousness. More to the point, he had news that concerned more than just the Librarian, and that was that they all needed to leave.

The news was a bit displeasing, and Hitomi frowned up at the creature as it flew over them and away. Li began speaking to her then, his words disguised in a foreign language. She turned to him, cerulean orbs hidden behind slightly narrowed eyes. “Mayja ev oui mega Li. Drana yna baubma fru haat ramb. E fuh'd etmo cdyht po.” Her head shook slowly from side to side as she spoke before moving away from him towards Thomas.

She stood next to the man, looking off in the distance. “Sounds like another serious situation. Seems to be the staple around here.” Kali climbed off of her neck, and took to the air, flying in the direction that Oz went, gliding higher and higher to scan the area with violet eyes. Hitomi turned her own eyes on the librarian, moving strands of thin silver hair from her face so that she could eye his mechanical arm pointedly. “When will you have time to rest?” Bright eyes slid back up to his face. “Should we be leaving?”

In truth, she knew little about the city or this plane, but it seemed that the Librarian held some power and sway here. He was a part of the politics. The construct Oz seeming to have be sent by the other man she had seen, Tresondros. She wondered whether or not they should be heading his words to evacuate, as well as where he had gone in such a hurry. Though she believed things to be calming, they only seemed to be rising back up. Looking over her shoulder at Li, she wondered what he would do next.

Li the Fox

Tres Ecstuffuan

count_zantara

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

The Ward of Antiquity

______Sigil had existed for thousands of years after the lady had first allowed its habitation by sentient creatures. The Lady of Pain was known to be a detached guardian who only stepped in when the very structure of Sigil was threatened by those whom occupied it. Many ancient civilizations long gone in modern times had set up shop in the extra-planar merchant city. The histories contain whispers of times where the Lady of Pain saw fit to turn against whole merchant empires that had grown within the great City of Doors, of powerful guilds and factions that were all laid to waist, buried beneath Sigil's titanic crust. This history is so old that the even the most ancient almanacs within the great Bravot Company Library could only hint at the marvels and dead horrors buried in certain spaces in Sigil's crust.

_______Not even the ambient light of the outlands could penetrate well into the depths of the alcove that Ellianna and Slash found themselves within. The chamber would come alight at the star sorceresses brightly lit staff. The material caked in dust was strange in that it was not a structure built of individual stones, but what seemed to be solid stone somehow hollowed out. If the sorceress took a moment to examine the building material of the dome like room she would note the old emanations of arcane magic, that had evidently been used to shape the structure. To the far right hand corner, Elianna and Slash would notice a door forged of a single peace of metal. The room was evidently by its meager furnishings some sort of dwelling. Etched on the wall closer by the debris that Eli was found on, was an inscription inscribed in Aklo, an old mystic language that Ellianna had likely heard of but likely could not read Over in the far left hand corner was a bed similarly forged of wood that was shattered by the fallen debris. Everything was caked in dust and it seemed that the air that came with them was the freshest that this place had tasted in a long time.

_______The door that would allow exit from the meager apartment was rusted and would require at least two people to push open....

Slash Zinrai

Scalar Warfare

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Zeonis Mieriba

Alleyway behind Illmaters Hope

Zeonis stepped further into the alleyway curious as to the source of the psychic power. Every step proved detrimental to the young prince, the feedback he was receiving from the source was more powerful than he anticipated. Bile would rise in his throat as he continued onwards, his stomach turning in protest. He suppressed the feeling and pushed onwards, this final step would prove to be foolish. The feedback from the psychic energy took it's toll on the young man.Zeonis lurched forward emerging from the shadows, falling to his knees before the small crowd of people he clutched his head in agony. "I've made...a terrible mistake." he said between dry heaves. Finally his stomach gave way and bile spilled forth from his mouth soon after he passed out before them.

Alleyway Behind Illmaters Hope

______A'hara ran into the alleyway after Zeonis. It was as if the young prince were drawn to something going on. The drow was not psychic but even it could feel the tumultuous emanations that wracked the alleyway. She was frozen in shock when she beheld the strange figures that danced translucent in the air, with motions evocative of terrible things and drawing up horrible thoughts. Just as A'hara was about to take Zeonis in its arms after he lurched forward and fell upon his knees, a massive ray of sunlight fell upon them.

"Oh ******** this!", the drow shouted

______The drow left Zeonis, on his knees in the alleyway and would attempt to run outside of the pillar of light. When the drow reached the edge, the guide summarily vanished, not to be seen again.

Count Zantara

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil :: Into the Pit[!]
Lost…
[]~O~[]

Her stirring, and the sudden burst of light, would bring Slash's attention fully back round; his eyes tracking up her shapely legs, across her torso, and then coming to rest upon her face. Full lips curled to form the syllables of something he very nearly missed...drawn in by her overall grandeur.

The Wanderer did not attempt to rise, and instead remained in a crouch; his gaze matching her own. His face was hidden behind a mask, and shawl, that concealed all but his eyes...bright green, and filled with an inner-light. Azure hints peeked out from behind the shadowy depths of his hood, and seemed to suggest a hair color.

"What are you doing, woman?"

His words didn't seem accusatory, despite the condescending tone, but it was clear that her actions had left the cloaked warrior utterly perplexed. Here they were, in unfamiliar...and likely hostile...territory, and her first order of business was to broadcast their location?

All the same, Slash dare not look away; his respect for power, and its display, deep set from personal experience.

Scalar Warfare

count_zantara

Tres Ecstuffuan

[Buxom Bandit]

_____The Pumpkin King hath risen again


_____________The God of all that you fear.

ℑαcк
тнє ρυмρкιи кιиɢ

Location: Outside the Destroyed Mages' Guild




Sigil had ceased its mass panic, lulling into a comparable calm. With the threat of the self-entitled man-deity abated, the entire City of Doors seemed to emanate palpable serenity. It was as if the entire population as a whole was finally able to breathe the sigh of relief that the danger was under control. But in the quiet before the storm, there was always greater danger lurking there.

Its form took raven black hair, towered high in a voluminous ponytail that was effortlessly picked up by the wind of the settling rubble. It was ecru skin and a feminine figure, wrapped so precisely in red and black. But it was always the yellow eyes that stood out. Smooth gold, when in fondness; hornet yellow, when enraged. From so far a distance, it was almost indiscernible between the two.

It was those cryptic eyes that were laid upon ground zero of the Mages' Guild, destroyed as any manner of brick and stone, crumbled by the not-too-recent memory of havoc there. And there, amidst the wreckage, was the one who hoped to play the noble hero. How gallant he thought to look; Hræðilegr in hand, short of breath, and the stain of battle upon his skin. A Devil, found gallivanting around Gaia, pretending to be the irony against his blood. A Devil parading as a champion of justice, the antithesis to his own genetic coding... all for a little pride.

The look in those yellow eyes could be any of a plethora of things: scorn, disdain, contempt, loathing, hatred, loss, love. It was only for that instant that they should lock with the Devil, before finding tails turned and the Bandit took off running down an alleyway. Being given only a glimpse of what he might have called most treasured, there was no reason to believe he shouldn't follow.

The roads and alleyways twisted and turned, and upon each new wall cleared, only an instant of Rou's back would be seen. She was like a mirage, appearing and fading from view, as if she weren't there at all. It was as if she was a vision of the Buxom Bandit in her prime, fleeing after a heist, knowing a broken heart was in her wake. Her lingering scent marked the traveled path, a fleeting aura of familiar vanilla and cinnamon-- sweet, warm, with a lingering, palpable spice. The trail led on, into the Lady's Ward.

Around the last corner, all that could be seen was a half-built, depreciating mansion, no more completed than it was the last time its owner had set foot inside. Yet, the door had been thrown ajar, the unfinished bargain of Vansin Du'Ver opened again for the mistress of the house. He knew to whom it belonged.

And in the foyer, she waited, leaning in her large, throne-like chair. One knee was poised over the other; her boot-clad leg kicked in a dull bounce. A familiar smirk was wry upon her lips, cheek resting against her knuckles. And when the Devil entered, she wouldn't dare waste even a moment.

"Six months," she stated, in the purring voice he remembered. Were she not sitting in the same exact spot she was last ripped from, nearly seeming only a specter of herself, it might not have prompted violent chills down one's spine. This was the sultry, sneaky Bandit he remembered, but it might have very well been like seeing a ghost-- too good to be true. "Six months, I waited. I waited for my use to be over, waited for a rescue, waited for you."

Her eyes trailed away from him, not out of difficulty, but out of derision. "I suffered cruel torture at the hands of Jack, until I was able to save myself from his wrath," she said, coldly, the guilt she was inflicting becoming nearly palpable. "And I see you've saved the city you don't care about from some wannabe. I dealt with a real god. Still think you're the hero, Roen?"

It only takes one pawn to win the game__________


And take all that you hold dear._____

Not Roen

[Not Roen]

"Stop looking at me, Tenkai," the Outsider said with equanimity, slowly turning his head and flicking his gaze to the samurai. "I'm wounded and weak, and I dare say you'd collect my head if I took you to task. I consider myself fortunate you have the grace not to press an advantage when you see it. I'd like to walk out of Sigil with dignity as opposed to running for my life." Passing a weary hand across his face and rubbing the burn from his tired eyes, Roen turned away and took a good, long look at his surroundings. Years ago this had been his home and dwelling, now it was just an eyesore. He longed to return to Patia and it's seclusion, or Orisia and it's warm beaches. Ertai was gone and killed, which made the fiend's presence in the City of Doors superfluous at best. Deed done and by Tres' leave, he was sure to return home to his plots and brooding, were it not for a familiar vision at his flank. Someone was watching him. Suppressing a shudder the feeling evoked, Roen turned his attention to the familiar figure in the distance, his stomach bottoming out in chagrin.

"Rou?" he breathed, almost not trusting his addled wits. No, it was the bandit there in the distance, he was sure of it. Combing his hair back and sending a trill of thought down Hræðilegr, Roen brought the wilting blade up and used the sword, now a gem studded ribbon to tie his hair back. In that gesture was all the time the woman needed to dart away as spry as a fey, disappearing down an alleyway. "Blackened body of God," he muttered despairingly, throwing glances at both Tenkai and Tres, each individually involved in their own business. No, he couldn't leave Sigil, not yet. There was still work to be done. Mustering up both nerve and resolve, the Outsider took off after the Buxom Bandit, rolling his shoulders and slipping out of the coat he wore when it grew cumbersome, his long legs carrying him through streets and pathways. It was like a game; a chase, even. One minute she was there, the next gone, adding fuel to his consternation. Long and hard he ran, noting the Lady Ward he was heading into, and eventually recognizing the path to a building he knew well. Vansin Du'Ver's mansion, now the Outsider's haunt. Half finished and abandoned, it was sometimes used as a resting place for the fiend.

It was where things had began, and where they would finished. Combing back an errant strand of hair that threatened to half-blind him and steeling himself for confrontation, Roen opened the half-closed door and stepped inside, closing and latching it shut behind him. It was as if that simple form of privacy unleashed every inhibition to Rou's sour tongue, for the echo of the door hadn't even ceased in sound before she was lashing him with her tongue. Six months she said, his ears not fooled by the purr in her voice, hearing the scorn that was laced beneath. He might have flinched were he a lesser man, but he was neither, lesser nor man. He strode forth like the inexorable Outsider he was, the corners of his mouth tugged into a frown. She had escaped, apparently. Without him and on her own she had escaped, but for six months she was Jack's plaything. He empathized, he truly did, but he stopped mourning her capture months ago. His sorrow was a debilitating thing, and he compartmentalized it to function. Seeing her here and now was a gladdening thing, but he couldn't feel it beneath the weight of her wrath.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, unable to articulate fully the depths of his thoughts. He stood before her unbent and unbowed, pale and perspiring, short of breath. His struggle with Ertai and his Abomination had left him drained in more ways he dared consider. His spirit was limping, his mind unfocused, his body in aches. He needed rest and peace and quiet, and he needed it sooner rather than later. "I'm sorry," he said again, kinder this time. He looked at her kinder now, even sympathetically. It was her own fault she was captured, they both knew. Her incessant dabbling, her wheeling and dealing. She was the architect of her own fate, and it was unfair of her to expect him to come to her rescue, though they both knew he would have. Could was another matter entirely. He was going to explain this, to defend himself, but her derision brought him up quick. Pride was a terrible thing to posses, but more oft than not, it was all the Outsider had. "I've saved Sigil and the Multiverse both, Rou. Ertai was there within my grasp, a foe I could see and touch and maim. How could I have possibly known where Jack had taken you? Where was I to go, and to whom was I to ask?" He sighed, shaking his head and looking away.

"I'm not a hero. Not Sigil's, and not yours. Rou, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Stop berrating me, there was nothing I could do. Why are we here? Why do you sit there with hate in your eyes?" He gestured, extending a hand out to her. The weariness on his face intensified, along with his sadness. "Stop it. Come home, Rou. There's nothing here for you and I. Come home, live. Let the wounds heal."

[Red the Ambivalent]

New life.....⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘⋘

яє∂

| | Location: | |

| Sigil:: Behind Illmater's Hope> Alleyway|

Those pale, seemingly unseeing eyes stayed focused in one direction, towards Jean whom had admirably pushed Tres out of the way of the destructive bolt of raw energy and took the blow. Flesh ripped and tore, the sickening sound of tissue tearing and blood expelling from the open wound were the only things the woman seemed to register.

It wasn't until Jean used the charm on her did anything seem to click in her head. From that dark place in her mind where her conscious seemed to be sleeping peacefully the artificial feelings that were forced upon her started to intertwine and pull. Nothing seemed to happen to her right away, she was just standing with her arm outstretched towards Jean as if she were going to release another strike upon the innocent man.

Then the pull grew stronger.

Those calm, happy emotions that she had been seeming to lack since Thomas Bravot had opened up the door to allow her sanity to spiral out of control forced themselves back into the light. Curling and squeezing around what seemed to have been lost, the artificial feelings yanked and tugged, bringing her conscious back to where it belonged.

Red jolted, as if being struck by some unseen force. The blonde lost feelings in her legs for a moment, long enough for her knees to buckle under her weight and cause her to tip forward. Her hands caught her fall, and just as she stopped a what seemed to be a long held breath was released from her lungs. Her mind was racing, trying to mend and fix what had been done, or what hadn't been done. Panting heavily, Red stayed with her eyes focused on the ground for a few long moments.

From the moment her sanity had been thrown into lockdown she hadn't been herself. She had been completely aware of what had been happening, what she had been doing, but to her it felt like she had been on autopilot. The whole Vexic kidnapping, finding Tres, blasting a hole through Jean, none of it she had been in control of. It was something out of this world to feel yourself moving, acting, feeling but being unable to control yourself.

A drop of sweat dropped from her brow to the concrete below, causing her eyes to focus and snap her out of whatever trance she had fallen into. Picking her head up, she first caught site of what she had done to Jean. With wide eyes Red pushed herself back to sit on her heels.

"Dear Ioun...I'm so sorry."

That was the first time in her life she had used the name Ioun, maybe Tres was rubbing off on her after all. Blinking a couple times, Red shifted her crimson gaze to Tres and Raven, unsure of what was exactly going on. The sound of someone faceplanting caught her attention before she could speak, turning her attention to the man that had walked into the alley but had been seemingly overwhelled by the amount of power being given off.

"I'm...So confused."

Red confessed, unsure of what the hell was going on.

Tres Ecstuffuan

Deus Ex Aizen

YummyBiscuits

Zeonis

⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙⋙New beginning.....

[Buxom Bandit]

Not Roen

"I've saved Sigil and the Multiverse both, Rou. Ertai was there within my grasp, a foe I could see and touch and maim. How could I have possibly known where Jack had taken you? Where was I to go, and to whom was I to ask?" He sighed, shaking his head and looking away.

"I'm not a hero. Not Sigil's, and not yours. Rou, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Stop berrating me, there was nothing I could do. Why are we here? Why do you sit there with hate in your eyes?" He gestured, extending a hand out to her. The weariness on his face intensified, along with his sadness. "Stop it. Come home, Rou. There's nothing here for you and I. Come home, live. Let the wounds heal."

_____The Pumpkin King hath risen again


_____________The God of all that you fear.

ℑαcк
тнє ρυмρкιи кιиɢ

Location: Lady's Ward, Ji Mansion Ruins





Only upon silence did those startling yellow eyes flicker back to the empathetic Devil. "Go anywhere, ask anyone," she answered simply, before wresting the arms of the chair in her palms, pulling herself up to stand. Her stride was somewhere between a saunter and a slither, the wave of connecting joints from each step caused a sway that slipped effortlessly into the next. "Do something other than settle for only what's in front of you."

She stepped beside her throne-like chair, where two scabbards were belted to the back, swords like trophies idolized in purview. Rou withdrew the first, the sheen of the blade catching what little light it could along the slender Jian with its tasseled hilt; the thin, yet quick Mother. Her other hand hefted a Dao, thick with a sharp-sided edge that could cleave an enemy in two; the powerful Father. They were things Rou strived for, having to make effort to stay out from under her brother's treacherous thumb, to find the silent family she had never known could be there. She had toiled and bled and suffered; no part of that had been easy, nor of a direct path.

Rou pointed the cuspate edge of Mother at the Devil casually, as if to extend the length of her gesture. "Home? This is my home. I cheated the GREAT -- VANSIN -- DU'VER, hah!" she chuckled between pauses, making light of a devil's name that should (very rightly, so) strike fear into those who would share it. "I beat him at his own game, I succeeded my ambition, and therefore this ruin of a palace is mine." The Jian blade rose and fell easily with each tittering laugh and swell of ego, no threat to be discerned.

But with one shift of weight, Father was upon the forefront, held loftily towards the Devil. Mother was a precise paintbrush, for delicate and articulate strokes of hardened discipline. But Father, however, was a brutish, violent cleaver, with an energy manifested from its Soulpyre ore that made it seem all the more ominous. It didn't sting as steel often did, but hummed in a low baritone, as if it could be felt through one's own skin. It might as well have breathed in the air around it, now free of its scabbard, relishing the thought of being brandished. Father was pointed at the Devil like an admonishing finger.

"Where would the lamp be, if I had not brought it to you?" Rou asked, "Sitting idle in the Venom Signet's vault? That item was more valuable to you than anyone else, yet you were content to let it sit in the hands of your enemy. You watched them take it from you." Her steps crept closer to Roen, jabbing the blade aggressively towards him, though not with enough realistic difference to harm his person. "And Nox? You were too afraid of the Warp to even consider what devastation might befall her-- and she was more trusted to you than I. She likely is dead now, with how long you left her to suffer without so much as trying." Nox was a subject Rou had not broached since she had discovered the ill truth for the first time in Patia, and out of mutual respect for the Carpathian Gypsy, seemed particularly odd to have opened that wound again.

"But here you are, savior of the Multiverse and Sigil," she snarled, "Because you could see and touch and maim an enemy who was not of your concern... while all those you care about don't have a city of do-gooders ready to save them. You became one of plenty to share the glory-- but neglected to be the only beacon of hope for those who needed you."

"You didn't even try to search for me. You gave up before even lifting a finger," Rou accused him, looking haughtily down upon him down the length of her Dao sword. "You were perfectly content with me never. coming. back." The end of the sword slowly lowered to point at the floor, and for only an instant, an inkling of pain showed behind the cruel aggression and contempt in her eyes. She had let down her guard, Mother and Father only poised idly at her sides.

"Then why do you follow me now?"

It only takes one pawn to win the game__________


And take all that you hold dear._____

[count_zantara]

Count_Zantara

The Great Absolute

Destructive Forces

YummyBiscuits

”Slash Zinrai”

Tres Ecstuffuan

Scalar Warfare

Arbitrary Fate

Fierach

Deus Ex Aizen

Red the Ambivalent

Glory Sieg

Fiend the King

SpiritArcanis

Hitomi Ishida

Li the Fox

Thomas Bravot--Master of the Library



"And yet he continues to play these tiresome games."

The Librarian mused as the smoke blew over his shoulder from the tip of the cig in his mouth, a slight glimmer of faked amusment in those unblinking sapphire eyes.

"My CONCERNS are valid because Tresondros is working without all of the knowledge he needs. Which, as I think of it is par for the course with the fool."

Tilting his head slightly as the Automaton spoke of 'What was in the Best Interest of Thomas Bravot" as if his limited programing could even fathom what was and what wasn't in the Libraries best interest. In most cases, this would have been a time to laugh in the Automatons face and continue on doing what he was up to. Bravot could easily claim that with the Mage Guild playing both sides of the fence and his personal contracts being older and more permanent in nature than some treaty of convenience that they once had with the UWP that he personally had a much stronger right to be here.

He could even use the legalize that they both were trespassing on private property and until a Master of the Council showed up, this should be left up to the Factions that survived.

Or even going out on a ledge, he could claim the land under Eminent Domain, kick them all out and make a fight of it both legally and physically.

It was a tempting thought.

But if there was something the Librarian couldn't stand, it was rudeness. And as much as he loved a straightforward answer to a straightforward question, Oz was clearly a rude being.

And one who needed to be shown that a soft touch wrapped in honesty was a much better way of getting your way with The Librarian than a blunt ultimatium.

Tonro!!!! We are leaving. Have fun with your new associates."

Listening to the Li and Hitomi speak in what they thought was a unique language known only to them, Bravot allowed a small smile to pass his lips as he spoke to them both.

"E teth'd cyo E fych'd rybbo vun ran ramb, ouihk syh. E fyc esbmoehk dryd dra cediydeuh fyc vyn suna lusbmaq dryh aedran uv oui naymewa.

Huf yc silr yc E muja ouin samuteuic myhkiyka, E tu haat du cbayg eh lussuh cu dra bauhc tuh'd drehg fa yna luhcbenehk cusa tycdyntmo taat."

Turning back to common to answer her question, he looked down at his new right arm that had already taken some damage, and gave her a slight shrug.

"It's only serious if you take the UWP's ideals as the Word of God. Which as is apparent, I really really don't.

This is the perverbial c**k-measuring typical of this Workers Party. But I do suppose we better let them get to it.

We're Done here."

He spoke at the various members of his organization who were scattered around the area trying to help the various injured people and dig out those who might still be stuck under the rubble, his voice reaching their various communication devices as they grumbled to themselves at leaving wounded and dead on the field but understanding the situation. Very quickly they were loading up their equipment and the mobile command units and pulling out as best they could.

Five minutes or so had passed since he'd made a phone call and the Portal was already breaking down, the pulses growing longer in length before the beam seemed to shatter like glass, each piece fading away within moments causing no damage to the people or surroundings.

Still holding the phone as Thomas lead the group towards the barrier leading outwards from the disaster zone, he looked over his shoulder as he dialed a number by memory.

"Hurry it up. There have been complications, but the Bronze is giving you more time.

Closing the phone, he tossed it over his shoulder to his rear guard.

"Sorry about that. Now, as to your desire to 'rebuild' the Mages. I suppose I might have been a bit rash earlier. I don't like the group personally and believe them behind the times. But perhaps, and this is only a perhaps mind you...perhaps new blood is needed.

On the other side of the knee high barriers keeping the onlookers out, a long black hover-limo pulled up, the back door opening.

With a final look at the crater, Thomas sighed and began to walk to his vehicle. Placing one hand on the rooftop of it, he looked at the female and her companion.

"I seem to have numerous meetings later, but I do have time to listen to your proposal if you care for a lift.

Leaving it up to her to decide on how strong she felt about the Mage Guild and her new life in this city. Would she climb into the Limo or not?

[count_zantara]

Slash Zinrai

Scalar Warfare

Tres Ecstuffuan

Underground

As the group of diggers finally broke into the Deep Vaults of the Mage Guild using quite a few Anti-Magic devices, they received a phonecall from Bravot, the static erupting from the ear-piece of unnamed female.

Troubled by the thought, she nodded to the rest of the crew to hurry up.

Listening to the sound of voices bouncing through the underground system, she released what looked to be a small mechanical bat from a pouch on her hip, and set a pair of goggles over her eyes. And within some time, she came across the duo who'd fallen into her current domain some distance away seeing that they had been followed by a single Dragonette of Bravots that had perched itself above them hidden in the shadows.

Sending the little robot to recon the room, she turned it away from the bright flash of light, it's echolocation giving her a rough idea of where the two were located. And what it was they found.

She needed to know if it was something Bravot wanted them to look into after they had emptied the first of the vauts.

[count_zantara]

Count_Zantara

The Great Absolute

Destructive Forces

YummyBiscuits

”Slash Zinrai”

Tres Ecstuffuan

Scalar Warfare

Arbitrary Fate

Fierach

Deus Ex Aizen

Red the Ambivalent

Glory Sieg

Fiend the King

SpiritArcanis

Hitomi Ishida

Li the Fox

The Bronze Dragon

A third step echoed from the Bronze-Metaled Beast, the electrical charge in the air building around him, little sparks dancing across the pieces of metal and stone in the debris field. The hair of Doyle began to stand on end.

Opening his mouth with a tearing of metal, a long golden tongue flicked between light green lips, the forked nature of the tongue causing the brilliant blue sparks between the tips to illuminate Tonros face.

"Oh, I did more than that, Little Man. I'm going to find the source of your magic and show it true fear. I'm going to gnaw on your thigh bones and suck the marrow away.

His voice had a very strange monotone to it, along with a unique 'echo' as if it was coming from a long distance away. Noticing the man scrambling over the hill, Tonro chuckled, his hands locked into fists that glowed silver with a interior light. Reaching the top of the hill as the False Dragon dropped to impose himself between the two, Tonro stopped for a brief moment as if this situation surprised him for some reason. Listening to the words of the Dragon Oz, his mouth bent into a close approximation of a smirk as his 'wings' flipped out wide.

No.

Was his only reply as the Bronze took flight, flames errupting from the bottom of his feet and the strange nozzle at the base of his spine sending the Bronze Tonro into Oz' side within moments, his left arm pulled back to slam his entire weight into the Automatons side, shoulder-checking him with all two million plus compressed pounds much akin to being hit by a fright train going a good seventy miles an hour.

[Akako Akari]

•°o.O Akako Akari O.o°•

"What a shame, what a shame we all remain
Such fragile, broken things
A beauty half B E T R A Y E D,
Butterflies with punctured wings.
Still there are darkened places deep in my heart,
Where once was blazing light, now
There's a tiny spark."

====================== ☠ ======================

::The Hive - Empyrae - Welcome Home ::

Black eyes glinted as she took in the scene of gore before her. The soil at her feet was moist with blood and her bare toes could attest to that. He told her to do as she pleased and she was indeed pleased now. There was no expression upon the woman’s face; however her eyes, those haunting black eyes, showed something akin to mirth. It was cold joy that would bring any normal man to his knees to beg for his life. Ah, she had witnessed such a thing many a time in this place.

It is time to return, vixen.

Black orbs averted to gaze at the blade at her hip. Brísingamen. She snarled at the cacophony of voices that rose from the blade, which all but sang to her. Insolent welp. This fox didn’t take orders from dead demon souls. No. Only a lich, a KING Lich, could command her. Perhaps that was only an illusion. It was hard to tell with her.

She lifted those dark orbs to scan her handy work once again and sighed audibly. There was nothing left. A wasteland of strewn bodies; men, women, and children alike hadn’t escaped her. A shame. Perhaps she would return. Certainly her lich had missed the vixen’s presence. The woman grew giddy with the thought. Returning to the Empyrae certainly seemed promising. At least if her imagination was even a little bit correct.

Without delaying much longer the woman bent down to grasp the crimson crystal at her feet. The chain was broken, gripped in the hand of a young blonde woman that stared lifelessly into nothingness. Clawed fingers pried the chain from the dead girl’s hand before offering her a swift kick that sent her careening a couple feet away. Her body was still warm. It couldn’t have been long that she took the girl’s life.

_______________________

The air would grow hot, humid, and heavy. A sickening tear, like that of flesh ripping, sounded just outside of the Empyrae in The Hive. Unlike most portal’s, Akako’s portal was grotesque and disturbing. Like a gaping wound that itched to be sown only to be pushed apart. Slender fingers wrapped around each side of the tear, coated in fresh and old blood. The hands pushed the portal open further to allow enough space for a person to fit through. A bare foot also coated in blood and red dirt came through. The woman’s head, long tendrils of black hair hiding her face followed suit. As the rest of her immerged from the portal, the rip in space did sow itself closed.

The woman lifted her head, black hair falling away from her face. Blood splattered over porcelain features, now crimson eyes glittering with pleasure as she looked upon his empire. The woman’s tongue slipped out to touch her lips, taking some of the human blood into her mouth.

Master...

Master...

Master...

The katana sang as she allowed her lips to quirk into a ghost of a smile. The demon souls could certainly feel her pleased attitude as she ventured forward. Her gaze fell forward as she moved with confidence through the veil, Ursan’s mark glowing hot on her left hand as she passed through the barrier. The woman shuddered and reached with her right hand to touch the mark with blood coated fingers. She smiled as the mark tingled delightfully.

”Ursan…” She called out loud as well as mentally; reaching into nothingness in hopes that he could hear her within his kingdom. ”I have returned, my lord.” She wondered if Ursan and her new comrades would be revolted to see her in such a state. Amusement glittered in her eyes imagining it. She didn’t exactly care, but it wasn’t boring. She nearly laughed outright imagining Kane, an undead creature, staring at her with a look of contempt in his eyes.

Akako gazed down at her attire and pursed her lips. Ursan might be upset that his gift to her was now in rags. The red lace dress still clung to her figure; however it was torn in a couple of places allowing glimpses of sculpted thighs to be caught as she walked. She took her bottom lip into her mouth between her teeth, eyes lifting again, to ponder it. Maybe a bath and a change before meeting Ursan would be for the best. 

YummyBiscuits

[YummyBiscuits]

Tres Ecstuffuan

Deus ex Aizen

Red the Ambivalent

count_zantara

The Reader

He would have liked to disappear, then, falling into a pool of shadows and hiding away in some hole where the cold fingers of the dark could coax some energy into the man and fill his pliant flesh with unlife. It was a mixture of pride and perhaps hardheadedness that stopped him from cursing the woman's addled brain and stalking off into Sigil's dusk, where he could find a sewer or cellar and sleep. Jean was in pain, he felt weak, and more than it pained him, it pained him to admit that he'd been brought low by such a thing - he had only eaten hours before, his well of energy was low, sure, but admission of it was a bitter medicine.

His eyes were bloodshot at this point, feral and bright, and he looked hard at the woman who had shot him. He gripped the front of his shirt, bunching up the silks, and moved away from the wall on unsteady feet, before he caught his balance well enough that he could stand, and just look at her for a long moment, good long and hard. She was still confused, and whatever had happened, she wouldn't normally have struck out against him; but would that excuse her in any meaning of the word, would Jean especially be able to give her that kind hand extended out in forgiveness? He knew himself well enough that the answer would be a hard no, and that he'd see to it that eventually, one day far from now where she might have forgotten his face - but not the intensity of his stare - she was laid out on some cold and hard floor in front of him, watching as he delicately licked the terror out of her blood.

Tres called to him, and Jean cleared his throat, letting his gaze drop to the ground and lessen in energy, back to the worried slate grey that his pain brought about. Get Red? Well, he could do it. Against his better wishes, he was offering aid, and that's more or less what was needed of him. Simple enough, right?

"Of course." Jean seethed, letting his hand drop to his side.

He took a few steps towards the woman, his animosity hidden behind that peerless mirror, his glamour back in place well enough that he didn't seem pained anymore, merely annoyed and maybe at the edges just a little tired. His hand extended as he came forwards, ready to offer her a hand up if she needed it but nothing more than that.

And then it hit.

Sunlight, oh glorious sunlight. Since his death he'd only seen it once or twice, every time for little more than a second, and like those times before, Jean only saw the sunlight for an instant, a heartbeat in time, and he was out.

The immediate effects were his retinas burning and the lenses cracking into so many splinters, before the liquid inside of those delicate organs took to a boil and popped in a spray of gunky, gooey gore which fell down his front and boiled into his clothes. His hearing went next, ears bleeding along with parts of his flesh, every visible inch of his skin spurting up with redness and irritation before cracking apart and blackening, hot blood spilling from those cracks in sprays that were so akin to a lava field giving one last eruption, and next to that Jean's mouth would open as if he were to scream.

"Gra-augh- !" He screamed, only to be cut off as her tender vocal cords tightened suddenly in his throat and snapped to pieces.

His other senses fell next. He could smell himself burning, taste the tender flesh as it wormed it's way into a true death, but those went out the window a half second later, only to be replaced with pain as his nose melted and fell from his skull, his tongue similarly swelling to ungodly proportions and seizing in his mouth with a sweltering pop of too-hot juices.

Only touch remained, only that sense stayed with the man as he burned in a silent prison, unable to help himself and unable to do nothing more than ride out the last few moments. His thoughts were not on whether the people around him would save him or leave him to die, they were forgotten in this onslaught, he only saw the pain in front of him as his skin continued to peel away.

There was so much pain, so much hurt, so much everything that it was overwhelming for the devil; his mind had caved in, imploding and crushing in on itself until it had become a kernel of white hot fury and pain and anger and so many other emotions that it was hard to discern anything else but those feelings, anything other than the pain that Jean knew somewhere in his fractured mind would not stop for a long, long time. Jean felt himself drop to his knees, felt his body react by pressing his long, slender fingers to his face, where the burnt bone skewers that had been left by the onslaught punctured the broken flesh and had the ruined skin falling off in sheets to land wetly upon the ground and in turn reveal the muscle underneath, which was already peeling apart at the edges, twisted ends blackening and twirling around as they burned, and kept burning.

It was all burning, all around him, funneling in on him, so much flame and so much heat that it was all for naught. While on the outside, he merely fell to pieces, his body smoking from some unseen and unfelt heat - the sun - inside his turmoil had reached a fever pitch, until finally that tumult snapped with a great whip crack.

Jean fell onto his face, smoking, burning, dying.

[Mana the Hack Cat]

~=An Abandon Building in the Hive=~

It had been a couple of days now. Mana had found a house that had been long since abandon but had some food reserves in it. He had been eating like a king and enjoying the fact that he didn't need to starve. It was strange how fortune seemed to be smiling on him at this exact moment. Licking his little kitten lips as he had a delighted grin on his face, Mana couldn't help but rejoice in the fact he wasn't starving for once. This was clearly a genius move on Mana's part. Complimenting himself, he wondered why he had never put it together earlier. If people once lived here then they would have had some preserves and rations that could last a decently long time. That said, since no one was here anymore, it was like treasure hunting! That's right! Mana was a treasure hunter, looking out for all the delicious treasures that hid within the abandoned homes. What was even better, Mana hadn't run into a single person while he had been in the Hive. He wondered what became of all the sick people but at the same time was afraid to find out what this malicious city would have done to those poor people.

With a delightful sigh, Mana rolled onto his feet, tossing t he can of canned peaches off of his head. He knew this kind of luck wouldn't last forever, but he was enjoying it while it did last. Still, he had been stuck here for a LONG time with no money and crippled in fear of what was going to happen to him next. He had to watch his P's and Q's lest he upset someone who tried to shoot at him with bad spells or attack him or throw things at him or attempt to hurt him or say mean things to him or curse his existence or wish he were set on fire or claimed that he caused them the cancer. Mana didn't get that last one, but he remembered someone saying it once. The person was practically frothing from the mouth. Mana couldn't help but think the man was rabid as Mana ran from the feral man.

Walking over to the tin he had just tossed off his head, he placed it back atop his head, after licking it clean, and pretended it was a top hat. "NYAHAHAHAHA!!! MANA THE SUAVE TREASURE HUNTER STRIKES AGAIN! Mana is practically beside himself with his success this time. There is enough good and sweet and delicious and scrumptious and delectable and tasty and amazing food here to last Mana a couple days! Mana will make this empty land of void his new home, proclaims Mana the Treasure Hunter Cat as he strikes a dashing pose with his new not top hat that he is treating like a top hat, nyaaaaan! Nyow that Mana has found a base of operation, Mana must fortify his defenses from the evil people of evil things who would want to hurt Mana. Also the evil, spiteful, malevolently malicious city of doors which wishes Mana's demise! MANA THE SURVIVOR CAT WILL NOT FALL PREY TO THIS EVIL, SPITEFUL, MALEVOLENTLY MALICIOUS CITIES GRASP PROCLAIMS MANA THE ENDURING CAT AS HE HOLDS HIS HEAD HIGH WITH A FORTIFIED CONFIDENCE HE HAD BEEN LACKING FOR SO LONG, NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" Chanting to himself, Mana would begin to fortify the abandoned apartment, preparing himself for what he thought was in store...

[Deus Ex Aizen]

The Aftermath - Into Life

Her mind was hazy and clearing itself. The world shifted and swayed above her. Was she moving? Raven found herself on her knees, brushing Tres' hands away. She could feel her lips moving and the distorted voice assuring him she was fine. The ground was swaying now--though the more logical part of her brain reasoned it was just her that was swaying. Blinking rapidly, those exotic feline eyes took in the scene that unfolded. Red's crazed features, Tres' look of concern. Astrella on her hands and knees staring at the ground slaw-jawed as if in a trance. All around her the voices of base thoughts bounced around. Off the walls, into the air, skimming along the ground and coalescing all around her.

And then there was light.

It was a brilliant light, warm and powerful. It burned her eyes to see through it, though she could endure it for only a scant second. She could see the silhouette of Tres and Red. Beyond the two familiar faces she had glimpse something before the bright flash--thought she could not be sure what she had seen. The scent of flesh reached her and Raven was almost sure her stomach flipped over. It was not that the Neohuman was queasy, but that a cold tingle of fear teased her spine and left her shivering. She had seen her own daughter burn alive. She had been the cause of her daughter burning alive. Seeing this man not so far from her practically melt seemed surreal.

It's not you

Remember your basic truths.
Death
You are in control, Dove.
Sun
You are in control.
Agony
OXY can't control you anymore.

Raven snapped into action and skid along the ground. She flung her over Jean, having very little time to adhere to modesty or etiquette. She had practically shoved his face between her cleavage with the gusto she tackled him with. There was no more time to think, no more time to be unsure and hesitate. The ground was trembling and shaking beneath their bodies as the ground cracked and shattered under his body. The broken pieces gathered and layered. They stacked upon themselves and huddled close, a rocky igloo struggling to form itself through the lackadaisical attempt to shield them. You could hear the base thoughts, ripping through her mind like sheets of screeching metal, leaving Raven to try her hardest to keep the blinding light from getting to him.

And oh how it got to her.

The very air was tangible with a power that Raven recognized through the Goddess she stood as Champion for. The surge of power that coursed through her veins seemed electrifying. It prickled her skin and left her wide-eyed and scared. She was very scared in that moment. A scared woman who struggled to save another person, hardly concerned about herself. She had been dead and she should not have woken, alive. Sweet Oblivious had been her fate and yet even that was not set in stone. Had the Changer of Ways thrown her off one path and onto another for His own vague, muddled plans?

☽ ♋ ☾

I don't know why this took my six hours...

YummyBiscuits

Tres Escuffaun

count_zantara

Red the Ambivalent

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