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Aged Gaian

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OOC: Alright guys, its crunch time. The Lady of Pain will be returning to Sigil. The date for this is august 19th. If you think your plot or whatever you are doing might be effected by this, please contact me and we will discuss it.)

Shameless Cat

Tenkai Matsumoto


"Yesh, that's right. You are a fluff...... uh..."


Embarrassment warred with some disappointment when Sivak realized that said panda was not talking much less referring to itself in the third person. But she forced herself into motion levering her scruffy self up in order to rest her chin on Kuroshiro's shoulder and see the actual speaker.

"I shoulda figured a talking panda woulda sounded a lot more Asian."

Or the owner of said panda for that manner.

"I'm Sivak, but more importantly...... how did you teach this guy to do people things?"

There were certain priorities that needed to be dealt with. Fluffy things that thought they were people currently topped the list.

Generous Businessman

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[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
...Hurt you…
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Eric's right hand came up well before the other man had finished, waving his words down with a gruff sigh.

"Slow your role, Sucka...If I wanted to listen to b***h-speak, I'd get a girlfriend. I don't got time for your silly s**t, so...GET THE ******** OUT OF MY WAY!!"

He'd roar, throwing his arm down...and to the side. Around his body, unlike the last time they'd fought, flame-like waves of reddish energy would spring into being; crackling with static, and thrashing in some non-existent breeze. A series of horizontal, black, stripes beginning to manifest upon his flesh...

ImNoHero

Aged Gaian

Sometime after Incident Zero - The Guildhall Ward


_______The call that Lovi received was strange. The voice on her communication device sounded human but artificial somehow. When it came time to organize the "date" the directions were all to specific. Get to this location at this specific cycle, a car will pick you up at this specific time. It didn't sound like the usual john. To boot the voice was feminine and while female johns were not unheard of, such were a lot less frequent in the City of Doors.

_______Lovi would board the back seat of a black professional looking hovercraft. The car was air conditioned, neat, but not too fancy she would not get the sense that her client was rich but certainly one whom could afford a driver. From the back seat he didn't look at Lovi except through the rear view mirror. He was light skinned, with green eyes with short curly hair. He would not speak unless Lovi chose to speak to him.

Aged Gaian

Wheezing Werewolf

Unusual calls weren't as uncommon as you might expect. Everyone had their own reasons for keeping secrets. Some clients only corresponded through anonymous messengers. Others called from disposable phones. This one was a little stranger than most, though Lovi couldn't quite place why. Even so, she was too curious about the mystery caller to outright deny the request. So when the car arrived, she was waiting at the ready for it.

Some people were so bent on making a show of their money. Lovi wasn't aware of how hover-cars worked, but she assumed it had something to do with magic, which was a risky business unto itself. She shifted uncomfortably the whole time she sat in the back seat, but held her chin up all the same.

"Where are we going?." She asked the driver, though it was a moot point. They'd arrive wherever they were going eventually, but the silence was unnerving in the meantime.

Aged Gaian

Lady Gilaen
Unusual calls weren't as uncommon as you might expect. Everyone had their own reasons for keeping secrets. Some clients only corresponded through anonymous messengers. Others called from disposable phones. This one was a little stranger than most, though Lovi couldn't quite place why. Even so, she was too curious about the mystery caller to outright deny the request. So when the car arrived, she was waiting at the ready for it.

Some people were so bent on making a show of their money. Lovi wasn't aware of how hover-cars worked, but she assumed it had something to do with magic, which was a risky business unto itself. She shifted uncomfortably the whole time she sat in the back seat, but held her chin up all the same.

"Where are we going?." She asked the driver, though it was a moot point. They'd arrive wherever they were going eventually, but the silence was unnerving in the meantime.


The Guildhall Ward


          "To Dorry Bed and Breakfast, 9th burrow near the edge.", he said in a clear breathy almost glass like voice. "Its a bit out of the way but we will pay you for your time traveling of course."


______Perchance Lovi had been here before. She would know that it was a seedy motel near northern 12o clock edge of the Guildhall Ward. It was a quiet if only a bit seedy establishment. It wasn't in a very popular area near the edge, most people thought the tremendous sense of Vertigo at the edges of the open Torus rings was unbearably staggering. It would be around 45 minutes before they would arrive, and the driver once again if not questioned wouldn't bring up any conversation no matter how quiet it got.

______The car landed on a far shadowy corner of the parking lot before the establishment. After they settled for a while, with the driver looking to make sure anyone wasn't looking in their direction, he would reach in his pocket and hand Lovi a Card Key. The card key gave access to a room 14.

Aged Gaian

Wheezing Werewolf

The words 'bed' and 'breakfast' generally summoned images of elderly people and young, boring couples to mind. But this place was far from what the name would imply. She'd done jobs here before, though she quite preferred house calls. She took the key card and reviewed the number on the back. Fourteen was a spendy room. With any luck she'd be sufficiently compensated for the general obscurity of the whole affair.

"Thank you for the ride," she said politely, then left the driver to meet her client. Usually secretive requests came with bizarre specifications. People who had a lot to lose by way of reputation often had particular interests to farther complicate the matter. In this case, she needed little else but to come as herself, which she did gladly.

She swiped her card at the door and entered without much in huge way of showmanship. "Hello," she said plainly into the void of the hotel room.

Aged Gaian

Lady Gilaen


She swiped her card at the door and entered without much in huge way of showmanship. "Hello," she said plainly into the void of the hotel room.


Dorry Bed and Breakfast - Guildhall Ward


______The room was dark when she got inside. None of Sigils amber ambient light was able to leak in through the closed blinds. Similarly there were no lights on in the room and for the moment there didn't seem to be anyone inside. The light from the open door would reveal two beds, the room seemed more appropriate for two guest but the call had made it clear that this was a date for one. At the far end of the room was a mirror which one could assume lead to some sort of bathroom area. She would be left standing there, outlined in orange in the open door frame until a voice came sudden, desperate and fierce.

          "Close that door!"


______Her eyes would be drawn to the right hand corner of the room, opposite the door. There was someone there, but with the lights off, it would not remain obvious whom the very familiar voice belonged to. Or perhaps, though he masked it, it would be apparent who it was.

Devoted Seeker

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arrow The Market Ward

Redwing Thief


When Redwing reached the Market Ward it became really clear just how out of the loop she had became since losing her job. The incident at the Mages Guild was news to her although she had guess something was going on there from the way her little corner of the alley shook while it was going on. For a moment she thought about going to the Mages Guild ruins and savaging some of the magical items left behind in the ruins but thought better of it. The ruins were probably already picked clean.

Redwing walked around the Market Ward, looking at the stands while Loyal moved right behind her. She was looking form something good, something sharper then her old dagger she used to cut purses and maybe a kit to keep the blade sharp and clean. That was one of the good things about living in The City of Doors; you could find nearly everything you wanted.

Except what you really want, she thought bitterly, I have to take what I want.

Ice-Cold Explorer

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Sigil, City of Doors - Guildhall Ward - Ruins of the Mages' Guild


Judgement of an Artificial God
The Sunlight Hurts My Eyes...


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A single moment in time is a frightful thing. How does one isolate it, quantify it? How does one measure it precisely, without delving into the very building blocks of creation? A moment can be but a second lost in a stream of centuries, oblivious to change. It can also be the merest fraction of our consciousness, a space of time so incredibly short that to the observer it never existed. And yet such a moment can ignite flame, and shatter an edifice. It can raise civilization and cause it to fall in the space of a breath. It can warp perception, and split the atom. To such a thing, what can the mortal mind do but tremble?

For indeed the mind that shaped space time to her whim was not the mind of man, nor the omniscience of a deity. It was a mind opened to the vastness of eternity, glimpsing truths incomprehensible and yet fully sane. For in this moment, the Staff and Elianna were as one, indistinguishable. Vessel and vessel, together master. They knew not what they did, neither metaphysically nor scientifically, or even mystically. But the arm that holds the sword need not know why the steel parts the flesh... only that it does. A concept, imposed on a fluid canvas of space-time, is indistinguishable from fact.

Power struck her then, unknown, surging into this mortal vessel alongside her own. The room flooded with light intolerable, shining with the brilliance of a transcendence. Stone and tile boiled at the sorceress' feet, buckling under the growing heat. The staff could no longer be seen, blotted out by brilliance supreme. Its power surged, helices of a force unseen since the birth of the universe, overcoming utter void by creation. Like the tentacles of a flailing sea kraken, they whipped about, anchoring themselves to an intangible edge, the tear between reality and non-existence, and gripped it, curling about it, securing it... anchoring it.

Light was joined by sound, unnerving, deafening and yet of insignificant volume, a sympathetic resonation that thrummed through the portal, the shattered room, and all within... and all without. The great planar city above and around them... every soul would feel it, their every cell thrumming in rhythm with the strings that bound the universe, stretched impossibly thin by the Great Forming that cast all matter into the boundless depths of the abyss.

Gravity, weakest of the four forces, and yet the most inescapable... Gravity was constant, unerring, instantaneous... and infinite. It was this that those close by might have seen become visible, the skeins of violet stretching across every object and being, interconnected in a lattice warped by mass and time like a great spiderweb in dimensions visible but unresolvable to the mind. At the epicenter, it was forcibly real, encompassing the entire field of view. Those above would see themselves as puppets snarled in a web of their own strings, bound and held by the laws of reality in shocking contrast. But for the briefest of instants... the entirety of the planar city would glimpse... space-time as it truly was.

The shapely vessel before the portal reached out, a delicate hand closing around the strands that bound the entrance to the exit, a tunnel through reality that led only to oblivion... and pulled. It spooled, launched into motion, violet strands wrapping themselves precipitously around staff and bearer, binding them in place as the star sorceress defied distance and time with the Unified Force, drawing the far end of the portal to nothingness across the vast expanse of space, directly towards herself.

For many long moments, moments that might have been entire universes in themselves, reality warped around the magus, her form immovable even as the surface she stood on disintegrated. Gravity, faithful ally and sworn enemy, now held her aloft, its binding strings irreversibly tied to her goal. Above, metal and concrete groaned, collapsing in on itself as the target neared... and then, with a great, heaving crack, it arrived.

It furrowed the earth and bled the sky, its insatiable maw ripping through the surface of the metropolis ground zero above, its consumption the work of the Machine God but its path the act of a would-be savior. The hole screamed across the battlefield, its edge imperceptible except as framed by helices of brilliant yellow, a non-existent, invisible void crashing through anything and everything, now streaking in towards the homestretch. The wounded colossus too, would find its fate that of a non-entity, the work of its master unraveling it in an act of supreme poetic justice.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended. Not with a bang, but a muffled whimper, a soft 'huff' of air as edge met edge, and the portal re-stabilized, its endpoint once again a set point in space... the exact spot of its entrance. An infinite, recursive loop, locked away, unable to be closed and yet leading only to itself. Far and near side ceased to have meaning for it, as did entrance and exit. Like a cosmic Klein bottle, it was a self contained entity, with only one, continuous surface in space time.

The revelations winked away, and only the crackling of splitting, molten stone could be heard in the now far larger crater, the star magus suspended in mid-air by her staff, anchored into a point that no longer existed. She clutched it fiercely, her shivering, naked form wrapped around it protectively... her clothing long burned to ash and beyond.

"It is done."


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Tres Ecstuffuan

Arbitrary Fate

Fierach

The Great Absolute

Glory Sieg

Slash Zinrai

Not Roen

SpiritArcanis

count_zantara

Deus Ex Aizen

Tenkai Matsumoto

Dangerous Businessman

What stood out to Jinsoku, was that Eric could have simply walked past him, and he would have likely let him go. But no, Eric was determined to strike him down at this point. Regardless of what Jinsoku wished. Continuing to charge, his smirk faded, and he became serious. More or less on the same level of Eric. Thus far, the unarmed Jinsoku would even fail to display any energy as he didn't need to waste it. Though he was nearly at the point where his aura would come into play, and then he could start bringing out that Raiju Physiology. Deep down inside though, he didn't want to make it all the way up that ladder. He simply needed to subdue Eric. From the looks of it he was a threat to this city. You do anything to attract his attention, you become the target.

"You have skill Eric, no doubt about that. But you soul is weak..."

H
e took the same stance he held a brief moment ago. If Eric wouldn't listen, he'd make him listen. But this would be the only warning to give, for Jinsoku might have felt like Eric was a mild acquaintance and a definite rival, something close to a friend...But James told him when his training began, that he would have to let go of his friends, family, everything he loved. Such was the price to pay to be a Slayer. Eric was no demon, though he showed great signs of turning into one. And it was up to Jinsoku, to stop him....Right?

"Go home."

Battle Points: 9/50 (+1 Charge)


Slash Zinrai

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Hartia Raye Pendragon

gay pirate cziri


>> Empyrae << Snake Room


      Ursan shook his head slowly. He understood that in some cultures, the belief system ran that after death one could become a demon, and in fact, a human or otherwise sentient soul could become twisted and warped enough to become what many would consider demonic. But it would be incorrect in the assumption that would merit those individuals "undead" in Ursan's sense of the word. It was the vague formation of darkness in a soul, corruption incarnate, where a soul once considered pure could be torn apart by such vile forces so as to become something else entirely.

      "No." Ursan said simply enough. "A Cambion still possesses life, twisted from the norm as it may be. A Demon, in any shape or form, is still alive in the sense of the word."

      There was more to the nuances of undeath, things that Ursan hadn't understood in his own life but had surprised him when he had passed the barrier between the two. There were things that Ursan could easily put into words, a near endless list of things that would be considered undead, a similarly endless list of things that would be considered living, but that hardly touched the deep well of information. He would have liked to be able to put these things into terms he knew that Hartia would understand, but for once, he found the mere prospect of words failing him, and it would have left a bitter taste on his tongue had he still owned one. He pushed on nevertheless, sure that Hartia would hear the uncertainty in his words.

      "It's dependent more upon the lack of life." He took a pause, "The source of an undead's life falls within the realm of Negative Energy. It isn't a soul that keeps me nor the multitudes in my kingdom moving, it's the energy itself. Take it at that."

      Ursan would then wave his hand towards the woman. Hartia might not have seen it, his understanding of the undead was still lacking, and Ursan was doing what he could to fill that. If there was anything about a wizard, a warlock, a mage, it would be their ability to learn, and he suspected Hartia wouldn't disappoint him in the least, in so much in that regard. Nevertheless, he motioned for Hartia to step forwards, and give his attempt at healing the woman.

      "Give it a try. I know you can access the energy, let's see how well you can use it."

Kallistiae's Wife

Fashionable Consumer

The Cambion nodded as if to understand, and he truly did. Though he chose not to accept the answer as a proper one. See, true demons were immortal, and immortals were not mortal, or alive, living. Hartia didn't speak of souls that were turned into bastardized interpretations, no, he spoke of real demons. The kind that never truly went away. The kind that had been put in Kane. The true creatures of darkness and death, created from something much mightier than the likes of those here now. Just like the famed Angels created by the hand of God. To tag his demonic parent as a tormented, warped human's soul would be a big mistake. His own soul, or variant there of, was no different than this Dhampir's! Or at least, not as much as Ursan made it out to be. Then again, Ursan's knowledge base didn't escape past the realms of Sigil, which was still pretty new to the Cambion as well. Perhaps Ursan would roll in his empty grave if he learned that the lands of Gaia Primus harbored hundreds, maybe thousands of Dhampir. This rare breed wasn't as rare as he thought. Not in some of the worlds, some of the universes bridged to the city of doors.

Without speaking a word, Hartia raised his left hand, placing his open palm facing the woman's body. Granted, Ursan had done some if not most of the work, and being this close to the negative plane would give him a slight boost. Gathering enough energy wouldn't be the issue. Controlling it on the other hand was going to be the hard part. The golden seal on the back of his hand glowed intensely, dark cold energies devoid of all feeling flowed from his hand in a violent torrent. The energies clashed into the Dhampir's body, shrouding it as it blasted through it. It was doing it's job, and the excess wasn't harming her, but it was wasteful. For whatever it was that was necessary, double the amount was spilling out.

"...tch....I - I can't feel it....."

W
hich was part of why it seemed hard for him to control. He could tell he was using it, but other than that he was lost. The seal offered him so much, and yet his ignorant mind wasn't yet educated enough to embrace and abuse those offerings. Then again, it wasn't like he planned on becoming a Necromancer. He simply wanted to be able to use some of their tricks. When he decided to become a true Warlock, he dedicated to it. However he wasn't setting his goals for what was commonly known to many as a Warlock. He would be THE Warlock. The undeniable truth that would tag average Warlock as a simple Dark Mage. Again, a magic class that Hartia was too grand for.

"How do I control something I cannot feel!?"

H
e spoke more in excitement than volume. Despite his frustrations, his focus was unwavering. If he could catch on from Ursan telling him things while he was actually doing it, perhaps he could learn a small basis on beginning the lesson of actual control over the Negative Energy. Then again, using the energy further from the plane it stemmed from would prove ultimately more difficult. Perhaps Ursan was right about Cambion's after all...


YummyBiscuits

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