Welcome to Gaia! ::

Reap returned to the wall because it seemed somehow deeply important, returning often to his thoughts as he travelled. The goddess had taken something he had given willingly to her, some terrible festering memory and it had grown higher, safer, though not safe enough. When it was complete it would hold danger at bay and that was selfishly good enough for him. He wanted longer - more time to hunt and fight in this scraped out sanctuary and wasteland – deep down he wanted more time with Iron – and he wanted to find that slimy b*****d Rojand too again. There was just something about both of them…

But what mattered right now was the task at hand.

As always he scoured the materials strewn around for something which reached out to him the way the flowers had before, an item which meant something. Somehow it made sense, much in the same way identity defied outward appearance in a dream - or in the flashbacks and memories- that an object simply belonged to the wall and should return there.

The USB looked familiar – or maybe not this USB, maybe USBs in general. He still marvelled at the lingering threads of meaning that sometimes chose to surface in this world. He didn’t even know what the letters meant, he could just feel them in his thoughts, could roll them around like a plaything. This was the item he was looking for. He held it to his chest once then by his side, once again finding himself startled by the familiar way he carried it, twirling it nimbly in his fingers as if some lingering muscle memory simply kicked in. He felt safe holding it though he could not articulate why.

There were no gaps in the wall that called to him until he spotted a computer tower in the wild array, it beckoned him and once again he let instinct take him, following the urge to slot the stick into the machine. With a startling flash, monitors all along the way stuttered to life, each different in nature. Some felt achingly familiar in the way the USB had, sprawling code and spewing date, others - like the strange symbols - remained a mystery to him. He listened and watched intently, trying to absorb all the data at once.

What followed was a sequence of events baffling to him, people were not formed out of mud or dirt surely? They were…they were. They came from the mist didn’t they? They just were. Was this how they were made? Justexposed with these thoughts there was a certain chill to watching the mud man collapse and fail time and time again, a deep terror sinking in that he too might fail the same way ultimately. He was afraid again, faced with a potential mortality and clinging to the idea that he needed more time. His only reassurance was that surely like the other memories this too was of a place as distant from this world as the red moon in the sky.

There was an electric hum and the monitors seemed to change their pace, schizophrenic in their changes, without tempo or moderation, every one a visceral snapshot of a moment, sometimes silent, sometimes with the sound up far too loud.

On the first, a murder. A stabbing on a whim as people escaped from repercussions. The other, an old lady killed in a flick of a blade blood splattering all gathered.

Another lit up, a silent image of a man – who looked too much, far too much like him - covered in head to toe in blood openly sobbing for forgiveness, a second chance. Quickly the other monitors flickered through moments, too many to count battles gone awry, blood, profanities. On one there lingered an image of a black haired young woman, her bloody lip in his teeth.

Failures.

A woman sprawled out, her arm severed, bleeding.

Battles on a grand scale, the man still desperately trying to earn his worth, willing to lay down his life for the cause. More flashes just like it. I'm proud of you bro.

I’m sorry.

I’ll change.

I’ll be worth it.

He cringed and didn’t know why.

And then there was a shift. Things slowly looking like they worked out. A woman in purple smiling, a tattered looking man with glasses nodding. Another slower paced screen of two guys he didn’t know – though they were familiar – alongside him in a big bed opening presents. Rings that were somehow important.

Hope.

He reached out and clung to it tightly

And he was interrupted. All of the monitors shifting one by one to a single meshed image of the goddess of paranoia.

"Your only hope is in survival. Your only hope is through me, do you understand....how much it takes? How much we need? We do this for you, and yet you cling to such things?"

He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to. He needed them. It was direction. It was meaning. But he couldn’t fight it, he couldn’t fight a goddess.

One by one the screens errored to blue, and one by one he forgot the people, forgot the people. Forgot hope itself.

And in its wake he was left in nothing but the swirling eddies of emptiness where it had once been.

Returning to the wall, Ruse gazed up once more at the colossal structure, taking to a moment to marvel at it's strength, knowing it was there to protect them all.

Her gaze then went to the ground, where she looked for more items to help build the wall even stronger. A little searching around, and she picked up a small metal stick. A USB, and she stood there for a while trying to figure out just how she knew about it. Eventually she moved along the wall, trying to find a place for this tiny glowing stick. It also occurred to her that something this small could hardly help to keep the wall up, but she shrugged it off. Every great buildings were built by the accumulation of many small things.

There were plenty of places that the USB almost fit in, but in the end she found a very sleek looking computer to plug it in. As she did, the wall behind her shone brightly as the screens turned on, all displaying bits of information she couldn't understand. One screen then showed a woman, talking about golems and numbers and though it went over Ruse's head, she felt quite interested in what she was doing. Especially when the pile of dirt suddenly came to life. It didn't last long, however.

She continued to watch each image, each new version of this thing, until eventually the body was able to last for a period of time before dissolving. She felt happy for this woman after seeing how long it took her to get to this stage.

The monitors then began to show different images. She could see herself as a small girl, running on the ground as she flapped her wings over and over again, until finally she lifted off the ground. She saw herself staring intently at a book, trying to fiure out what the words in the book meant. Another scene flashed, as she received a skull pin from professor Malcolm to prove she was a knob.

She enjoyed these memories, until the screens all changed to show the goddess gigantic face. With a gasp she stumbled backwards as a hand reached out to hold her. It didn't hurt, more then that it felt protective. She felt the memories taken from her, before she was left go, stumbling awkwardly as she was blessed once more.

It's a small thing of glowing blue plastic and glinting metal, but it has a certain sense of purpose about it as you pick it up. It's difficult finding the correct place for it, the Wall is full of computer equipment; while it could have fit just about anywhere, they just don't seem right until you reach a simple and sleek computer tower. You slide the stick in and suddenly an entire wall of monitors spring to life.

Each screen displays different pieces of information. In several you see an odd sort of computer code scrolling rapidly down. In still others you find calculations and graphics, data of varying sorts slipping past with an intensely focused sort of speed. In one you see the image of a red-haired man talking, you can't hear him, but the program seems to be mapping his every expression. Another screen flickers on and you see a blonde young woman adjusting the computer's camera. With a painfully familiar smile, she steps back and begins narrating.

"This is R-type Golem trial number three. The date is March 5th, 2012. The time is 0200 hours." She turns to another computer, and types quickly. In the back ground there's a metal table, and if you squint, you might notice that it's covered in dirt, or possibly mud. "The new core has been modified with changes 1a-1nn." She continues to type and then looks up toward the table, "I am now initiating golem formation and personality installation."

On the table the mud begins to move, first compressing into a small ball in the center and then suddenly expanding around it, forming a body, it's features gorwing more and more distinct and detailed. The brown of the dirt softens and brightens, becoming saturated until it's not just a pile of mud on the table, but rather a young man. After a moment, he sits up, and it's the man from the other monitors, with an open, friendly face and flaming red hair. He smiles vacantly at the woman, and scratches the back of his neck a little awkwardly. He open his mouth to speak, and it slides off his face. The rest of him soon crumbles and slips back into a muddy, messy pile.

Sighing the woman turns and walks toward the camera. "Trial 3 is a distinct failure. Stability has worsened. Modifications 1a-1nn will be removed and examined indiviually at a later time." She reaches toward the screen and it goes blank. Another flickers on displaying a similiar scene, and then another, until the entire wall is playing scene after scene of the woman testing, the man being born from mud, and eventually, something about the man breaking or acting oddly, sometimes violently before he returns once again to the earth. Those scenes grow briefer, and briefer, until all the monitors go blank. A moment later all of the screens reveal the exact same scene.

The woman, a little older now, a little happier and more confident, stares solemnly into the camera, "This is R-type Golem trial number six-hundred and thirteen. The date is November 16th, 2014. The time is 0300 hours." Stepping back she hits a key on the other computer, a newer one and heavily modified. "Change 198rr is now in place."

The man forms more quickly this time, one moment mud, the next he's breathing, sitting up, and smiling at her pleased recognition. The tests she performs go well, and when he loses his form it's done after they say goodbye to one another, and promise to see each other soon. The tangible aspects have improved greatly, but its the spark of life within his eyes that's the true victory.

The screens flicker, and now you witness a number of small moments in your own life. Moments of struggle and hardwork that eventually lead to something precious: hope.

The screens shift again, until a single, massive image of the Goddess stares down at you. "Your only hope is in survival," her voice booms from a hundred small speaker. "Your only hope is through me, do you understand....how much it takes? How much we need? We do this for you, and yet you cling to such things?" She reaches out from the monitors and wraps your entire body in her hand. It's strong and envelopes you, it protects you. The power behind it could snap you into small pieces with the barest flex. The hand lets go, pulling the memories away from you and back into the wall of monitors.

You're left dizzy and little claustrophobic as one by one, the screens switch to a blue error window. A sense of dread fills you as the overwhelming presence of the Goddess fades away.

The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay.

For now.

[Eir Enters from The Ruins!]

It's the Wall again.

The low part from yesterday has now already raised high into the clouds.

Now where he can start searching for that item?
He looked and looked and looked-

Bling.

! There's something shining on the top of that dump--

It's a small thing of glowing blue plastic and glinting metal, but it has a certain sense of purpose about it as you pick it up.

A...USB? Wait, how did I know this thing's name? Also, how to use this-?

It's difficult finding the correct place for it, the Wall is full of computer equipment; while it could have fit just about anywhere, the drive just refused to be read until he reached a simple and sleek computer tower.

He slid the stick in and suddenly an entire wall of monitors spring to life.

Each screen displays different pieces of information. In several you see an odd sort of computer code scrolling rapidly down. In still others you find calculations and graphics, data of varying sorts slipping past with an intensely focused sort of speed. In one you see the image of a red-haired man talking, you can't hear him, but the program seems to be mapping his every expression. Another screen flickers on and you see a blonde young woman adjusting the computer's camera. With a painfully familiar smile, she steps back and begins narrating.

"This is R-type Golem trial number three. The date is March 5th, 2012. The time is 0200 hours." She turns to another computer, and types quickly. In the back ground there's a metal table, and if you squint, you might notice that it's covered in dirt, or possibly mud. "The new core has been modified with changes 1a-1nn." She continues to type and then looks up toward the table, "I am now initiating golem formation and personality installation."

On the table the mud begins to move, first compressing into a small ball in the center and then suddenly expanding around it, forming a body, it's features gorwing more and more distinct and detailed. The brown of the dirt softens and brightens, becoming saturated until it's not just a pile of mud on the table, but rather a young man. After a moment, he sits up, and it's the man from the other monitors, with an open, friendly face and flaming red hair. He smiles vacantly at the woman, and scratches the back of his neck a little awkwardly. He open his mouth to speak, and it slides off his face. The rest of him soon crumbles and slips back into a muddy, messy pile.

Sighing the woman turns and walks toward the camera. "Trial 3 is a distinct failure. Stability has worsened. Modifications 1a-1nn will be removed and examined indiviually at a later time." She reaches toward the screen and it goes blank. Another flickers on displaying a similiar scene, and then another, until the entire wall is playing scene after scene of the woman testing, the man being born from mud, and eventually, something about the man breaking or acting oddly, sometimes violently before he returns once again to the earth. Those scenes grow briefer, and briefer, until all the monitors go blank. A moment later all of the screens reveal the exact same scene.

The woman, a little older now, a little happier and more confident, stares solemnly into the camera, "This is R-type Golem trial number six-hundred and thirteen. The date is November 16th, 2014. The time is 0300 hours." Stepping back she hits a key on the other computer, a newer one and heavily modified. "Change 198rr is now in place."

The man forms more quickly this time, one moment mud, the next he's breathing, sitting up, and smiling at her pleased recognition. The tests she performs go well, and when he loses his form it's done after they say goodbye to one another, and promise to see each other soon. The tangible aspects have improved greatly, but its the spark of life within his eyes that's the true victory.

The screens flickers, and now he witnesses a number of small moments in HIS own life here.

How he was chosen by the Goddess of Ruin. How they failed their first monster hunt. How other shadows gathered around him; how he broke from the Blessings' influence:

The keyword was all the same: hope.

The screens shift again, until a single, massive image of the Goddess stares down at him. "Your only hope is in survival," her voice booms from a hundred small speaker, some buried, some staticky, some crystal clear.

"Your only hope is through me, do you understand....how much it takes? How much we need? We do this for you, and yet you cling to such things?"

She reached out from the monitors and wraps Eir's entire body in her hand. It's strong and envelopes him, it protects him.

While the power behind it could very well snap his body into small pieces with the barest flex, the hug is one of re-assurement.

The hand lets go from him, but pulling the memories away from his head and back into the wall of monitors.

Eir was left dizzy and little claustrophobic as one by one, the screens switch to a blue error window. His left eye, by an unknown reason, suddenly hurts.

A sense of dread fills him as the overwhelming presence of the Goddess fades away.

CLICK.

One monitor turned back up.
Depicted on the screen was one glowing orb he know too well...

Eir reached for it, didn't even flinch when his hand goes into the monitor. He pulled out the orb of light and lets it entered his core-his heart.

[Eir salvaged Blessing from the monitor screen!]

He didn't found what he's been searching for, but he did get something to compensate for the time lost.

At least he helped reinforcing the wall??? He thought as his feet took him away from the contraption.

The Wall continues to keep all the terrible things at bay.

For now.

[Eir Exits to The Ruins!]

Aryn picked up another item to repair the wall with. Though today, rather than a brick, he found something a little different. Like the last it was rectangular in shape, but that was were all similarities ended. It was old and rusty, but on it he could easily read--

Clark County General
Security Zone 3
05/19/2008
12:24am-7:02am

Well that sounded promising. Maybe he should bring this back. This had something to do with security right? Perhaps it could be of some use for the wall. It took only a moment before Aryn spotted its place within the wall. Perfect! An old TV in the wall flickered to life, placed directly on top of a bulky VCR.

"Just slide this in and--"

Aryn slid the tape in, causing the screen to flicker once. Twice. Before a hospital room appeared on the screen. The colours were muted and the audio was a bit odd, probably from age, but the image was clear and at the top of the screen, it read: 12:24am.

In the image, Aryn could see a woman sitting on the bed. Her figure skinny and weak in appearance. She lifted her head, looking up at the camera--directly at him. But even now, no emotion played upon her face. Nor did she move from her spot on the bed, in spite of the growing red at the base of her hospital gown.

"Wha--"

The walls, now that he noticed were also splashed in red and on the floor, lay two bodies in a growing pool of blood.

What the hell was this? When Aryn picked this up, he expected some knowledge of defense or something along the likes. This... this was entirely different from what he had imagined.

The counter in the corner moved up a number before suddenly, everything was in fast play. The walls were drying, turning a dark ugly brown, and yet in that time, the woman still stared up at him through the camera, her body jerking once. Time continued to speed by. Even the pools of blood on the floor had dried.

6:56 am

A hooded figure entered the room and the girl blinked, just as time regained itself.

Stepping over the fallen bodies, the hooded figure 'tsk'd.'

"What have you done?"

She gave no response. But the hooded figure seemed to ignore it.

"I will say this much, my dear, you've done well to make it this far. To go unnoticed for so long, to ensure yourself a nice long, solitary mission. It's tragic really, that you're always so very clever about exactly the wrong things." Ayrn cringed as the hooded man's voice went from gently to sweet but venomous and he took a seat beside her; brushing a strand of hair from her face. However, even now, her gaze was fixed on him. "It was always going to end this way, and the sooner you accept that, the better for everyone concerned."

The hooded figure now took the girls hands into his own. "You can save lives, or at least protect them for awhile, and you can take them, of course, quite easily. But the ability to create life, to hold and nurture it? That isn't yours, Clarice, not any longer and not ever again. Do you understand?"

Clarice? Who was that, he wondered and yet, at the same time, he felt as though he knew that name.

Finally, her gaze turned away from the camera, her expression cracking, revealing sorrow, regret, and rage. The pain of her expression made Aryn pause. Just what had happened for her to make that kind of expression?

The screen flickered again and suddenly Aryn was seeing a different image entirely.

Rage. The blonde figure on the screen was attacking something--someone, and yelling. However, in terms of power, it was like watching a kitten swat at the heels of a wildcat. The other blonde figure didn't seem to see this. Too blinded by rage, he lunged for him again.

It was over quick.

The one wielding the scythe made short work of the blonde, catching him by the arm. There was an audible snap. Loud enough that even Aryn cringed, clutching his own arm as the sympathy pain set in. It was almost as though he experienced it himself. But as if that wasn't enough, the one gauntlet that had been wrenched off was pierced with the tip of the scythe, creating a loud screeching noise.

It was hard to watch, and painful. For some reason Aryn that pain reached his chest and he was overcome with a strong sense of loss and hopelessness. But what for? Its not like it happened to him, right? But then why did that person look similar to him?

The screen flickered again, becoming nothing more than a monochrome fuzz, buzzing obnoxiously. He watched, waiting to see if there was anything more, but as he did, a pair of hands reached out from the screen, followed by a head.

The Goddess of Protection.


"That isn't yours, not any longer and not ever again." She said, pulling herself out to her torso before sliding her fingers painlessly into his eyes, and into his skull; pulling something free. He was blind. For several minutes, he couldn't see anything, nor could he move. He was merely a blind and empty vessel. However, sight eventually returned, but when he opened his eyes the goddess was gone and the screen displayed a multi coloured bar image, reading OFF AIR.

For some reason, he felt reassured, but as he turned to walk away, a strange sense of dread overwhelmed him.

The wall was protecting them.

..Right?

Once more, he'd heard the call. Adding to the wall had gone well last time, as far as he could remember, and therefore, Imuiel didn't have any reservations about lending his assistance again. Surely his Goddess would understand--he had to help keep those awful things away, after all. It was for the good of all of them.

Build it higher, yes. He could do just that, and without a word in response, only a nod, he turned and began his foray into the Ruins. There had to be something in there to contribute, and he would find it.

The USB drive was something he'd never seen before, and Imuiel didn't hesitate in picking it up, holding it gingerly as if it would break with the slightest sharp motion. What was this thing, anyway? It glowed and gleamed, and he was entranced by it the moment he laid eyes on it. This had to have some power--otherwise, it wouldn't shine with the same color his heart did. He had to get this back to the wall before one of those monsters showed up, he reasoned; this thing had to be precious, and using it to build the wall higher seemed like the best use of it. It would have been such a shame if one of those creatures would have found it.

When he arrived back at the wall, it was a thing of some difficulty to put the drive into its proper place. Imuiel wasn't sure what to do with it, but when he found yet another of those innumerable towers, something...clicked, and he moved forward with a bit more purpose to meet it, gently inserting the drive into where it needed to go.

...what was he watching, here? This didn't make any sense. Golem trials? How was-- How was this woman creating something from mud, and why was it crumbling to pieces every time? Imuiel stood, transfixed as the recording played across multiple monitors, illuminated by the glow of the screens as the images danced across them. Finally, the man of mud held his shape, and the 'experiment', as he had deduced it was, was concluded pleasantly, with goodbyes exchanged and a far lesser measure of failure present. The screens flickered again, and Imuiel squinted, unable to tear his eyes away.

Pulling himself up out of a grave, fighting a mass of wings and dirt as he grabbed some...odd, squishy thing that had been dangling above. He was free, and he saw sunlight for the first remembered time through red lenses, panting despite knowing somehow that he didn't have to--

"Come on--there's some over here!" a voice called, echoing oddly as if it was contained in a jar. He turned to look, trotting after them as the other neared a prone form, curled up on the ground like a dried worm. They were almost there when another tall shape, this one ringing startlingly[ unfriendly slid into view, targeting exactly what they were going for. He latched on to the...person's sleeve and dragged, aided by his companion--

The looming enemy was back again, calling out to them in a raspy voice as they ran. There were more of them this time, and the pair carried the corpse awkwardly between them, not entirely sure why. Something about it seemed...important, as if dropping it would ruin everything--

They were safe, he thought. The shape had pursued them a ways, but had left after a short distance, leaving the two of them alone with their prize. He looked up at the other's face, blinking in some surprise as he was met with a dark...brown mask, lenses a muddy purple-ish color through his own red ones. The two of them seemed to be similar, and he hesitantly cleared his throat, lowering his half of the corpse to the ground.
"Are we-- Who are you?"
"I don't really know. Do you?"
"No."
"Well, we're off to a fantastic start." A chuckle from the shorter of the two, honestly amused. "Clearly, we're in this together. Otherwise, the both of us wouldn't be here."
"Right. But--"
He never got to ask his second question, interrupted as he was by those shapes from before slicing into view. They were surrounded, walled in--
"Calm, younglings. We've been trying to catch you, you know." A pause, one that he was very tempted to fill with some biting remark. "We are your wing." Another beat of silence. "...your family?"

Hesitantly, they were no longer alone. This...could have been a sign of things getting better.

Jarred from his thoughts by the image of the Goddess bursting forth, Imuiel balked, taking a step back even as she reached out and grabbed him in a grip so strong he felt as if the slightest breath would cause his instant doom.
"Your only hope is in survival," Her voice was so loud in his ears, and there was no way of shutting it out. All he could do was cringe and stare at her, abject horror hidden underneath his mask. "Your only hope is through me, do you understand....how much it takes? How much we need? We do this for you, and yet you cling to such things?"
And then, her hand let go, retreating with his memories and receding back into the monitors.

The screens went blue, one by one. His head swam, and he felt as if something was closing in on him from all sides, crushing--but most of all, he felt dread. He could feel the Goddess's presence fading, but the dread didn't snake away with her, and Imuiel remained standing for a few seconds, fearing something happening--something terrible.

Nothing did. The wall kept such things away, after all.

Ixb settled in front of the screen with rapt attention. He watched the blonde woman curiously, tried to absorb as much information he could. He watched the mud-man and the lab. He's rapt by the idea of it, the fantasy, or perhaps more of a sci-fi.

He was intrigued. Ixb wondered what the story was. This woman and this mudman. He admired her determination, expecially given the span of time involved. Who were they?

When the screen went black Ixb found himself watching something else. It was a like a highlight reel.

--feet pedaling for the first time. Dad yells and he realizes it's far away. Dad had let go! He was riding!
--again. He pulled the textbooks out of the toilet, hissing sadly but trying not to look like a loser. They laugh but he could only be red in the face and awkward.
--graduation! He'd grown a few inches and was in the top of his class. The bullies would be stuck here and he...
--college. The city! Girls and friends and --
--not enough. The recruiter.
a weapon.


Then the Goddess was there and she spoke to him but the memory was hazy and happy because he'd given her some sort of gift (what he couldn't remember) and in return he got her blessing.

And the wall held.

He felt better about helping to build the wall when he heard the whisper of his goddess in his ear. It made perfect sense. The wall protected them. He stormed forward, looking for something to help build it with.

The first thing he picked up was the brick. What else would you build a wall with? He grinned as he brought it to the wall, and found the spot made perfectly for it. He slid it home and -

Slid it down again. And again. He didn't even blink. He knew his purpose. He knew these strong arms, the muscles aching to be used underneath the skin, itching to be torn and ripped and mended and put to use -

He dropped down on the sand and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. His laughter made little kernels of sand get inhaled, and he choked on the dryness. He could hear the ocean, but he couldn't see it anymore. He felt the ebb and flow of waves as if they were taking him away.

"Don't you dare. Don't you ******** dare." He heard that voice behind him, and laughed. She couldn't stop him. Nobody could, really. He turned around, hopping from foot to foot on the edge. "What are y'gonna do t'stop me, sugar?" He called out. She was drunk, and he was too sober for this. Maybe if he'd finished her last beer, he would have jumped. But standing there, looking at that strangers face and seeing things that weren't there, he knew he didn't have the nerve."

"Please, Robert. You said we'd party. This isn't a party, this is-"

He jumped off the ledge, and she screamed, until she realized his feet had planted on the floor of the roof. He reached out and took her beer, drinking it down until his throat was dry again. Then he walked away, without so much as a look back, and finished her sentence.

"Goodbye."

His eyes opened to the sight of something so beautiful, he almost wanted to cry. The goddess held him, and kept him safe, taking away everything that he'd just seen. As long as you trust in me, I'll keep you safe.

He smiled up at the goddess even as she left with her prize.

"Come on, ---." He murmured one last time. "You know I'll always trust you."