Character Outpost

(OOC: Having something heavier than Mooks would probably do wonders for raising the tension. Heavy robots, demons, something fun or itneresting with a high power level; Matching them to the heroes' power level would prolly be a nice touch.)

(OOC: Damien is here to help )

(OOC: Kibest is heading towards the source of the explosion, but for the moment he's been distracted by the sounds of the gunfire.)

(OOC: @Crystal Clacia: Oh, I didn't forget about him, I was just naming the ones who can fight and are a menace to us. Should have mentioned that...

@KSPAM: Well I think you described the wings as robotic, so that kind of throw me off...

@Morgulion: Well, I have characters that fit that description, but one of them may be a little awkward to fight, and the other one have a Game-Breaker power... hell, I'm still thinking of how my main character going to beat her. Anyway, I will introduce them after you kill all the mooks.

@Bobby G: Oh ok. I guess I was kind of rushed on involving Gavril with someone else besides Jacob.

Oh. And thanks for the recap.)

edited 2nd Mar '11 12:41:11 PM by eligram

(OOC:Good point; Gavril hasn't had much to do, has he? I'll see if I can fix that. Is it OK if I introduce another villain while doing so, or is this getting too complicated?)

Worried that he might be one of the "lovely people" Damien had mentioned, Aulde desperately thought, a little help here?

V̫̝̥̣̍̐̋̾̓e͉̘̗͋r̞̃̇̄̆ͬ̇͐ͅÿ͖͍͈̩̝͇̟̔͆ ̺ͅw̹̞̮̺̠̣͖e̖̱̖ͭ͒̃ͫ̒l̿l̪͈̘.͔̹̳̤͖ͩ͋ͥͅͅ Very well.

Behind Damien, a humanoid figure formed. It was eight feet tall, and its "face" was taken up by an asymmetrical, writhing, tumor-like mass made of countless miniature eyes, each of which glowed a pale, sickly green. The same glow emanated from a gaping mouth that took up the thing's entire torso, offering a silhouette of three rows of massive, carnivorous teeth, without symmetry or pattern. The rest of its form was pitch black, darker than the surrounding night. From the back of its head extended seven long tentacles, each moving of its own accord. Its hands were four-fingered claws, its feet, hawk-like talons. Its left arm was long and lanky, dragging along the ground, while its right was a mass of muscle that reached to its thighs.

The creature's form was not truly related to the Eyes and Teeth. It was a shape plucked from human imaginations, the lowest common denominator of what people imagined when they heard the name. It was a purely human invention — against another species, it would have taken a different form. But this would suffice as a projection of the Sigil's will, and would certainly attract Damien's attention.

It stretched its arms out wide, in a crucifix position, daring anyone to strike it. Contorting its mouth-like torso into a twisted shape meant to evoke a smile, spoke directly into Damien's mind:

S̱̩͎ͪͅͅh͈ͭͨ͊̈̆o̫͓ͬ̈́̏̋̾w͎͈̮̅̌͂̏ͫ̔ ͉͈̻̝̰m̼̹̭̻̂̈͛̌̀̉e̫̲ͤ̎̓͒̓̇̌ ̮̯̪̝̈́̾̇ͣͬ̚y̲̝̝̯͕̞̬͋̏ͬ̓ͭo̞̟̱̙͈̳̞ͣ͌u̩͉̤̳ͅŕ̔ͯ̇ ̤͈̺͎̱̭̻̊̅̃ͮp͍̳̬̞̍̄͂̇̍ͫͩͅõ̱̝̤͕̺̔͋ͦ́w͔̹̹͎̱ͪ̌̓ͦ̑e̞̼ͩͤr̹̗͚͕̼͕̥͗̒́ͣͪ̎.̺̫ͫ̋̌ͤ ̰̲͔̘͍̗́ͤ̆ ̯̥̭ͪ͐S̜̥̬̰͉ͥ͊ͧͭ̇ḧ͇͖͈̥̫̻̿ͭ̓̍ȯ̤w̬̱͋ͣ ̝ͣ̏ͧ̃ͨͦͤm͊ͣ̒e̩̤̞͕͓̖̬ ͖y̳̺͉̜̙̜̘o͛̋u̝̱̯r͕͎͉̺̪̳̆ͩ̒ͯ̇̿͐ ̟͓̥͕̯̈́ͯ̈́ͥf͉̿̑u͓̭͈̫̜͙ͦr̫͕̝ͤͮ͑y̬ͪ́͗͆̓̂.͔͍͕̟ ͧ̾͛̋̐͛̄ ̞̲̱̜͑̈̄ͦS͍̲̻̲̣̻ͩ̊̂̃̆̿h̳̗͈̣͓̭o̘͚ͫ̿̀̇̇ẅ̺̯̈͗̋ ͚̪̫̉͑́̒ṃ̳͚͙̬̹̹ͩͣ͑͑ͯ͑͂e̼̺ͮ̐̓͂̅̀ͧ ̪̫͎̟̲̄̆͌̊ͫ̃y̫̺̣̑ô͓͇̩͍̥͛ͬ̚ủ̘̘͖̬r͚̜̼̼̟ͭͦ̍ͭͦͬͤ ̗͙͉ͯ̏̓̉ĥͮ̂a̱̬͊͋t͖͖̥̿͐̌̎̊̄e͓̘̓͆.͖͆̒ͣShow me your power. Show me your fury. Show me your hate.

Meanwhile, Aulde hurriedly checked his card again. It looked even worse now; boils had started to form on the poor Fool. Aulde began to wish he'd tried dealing with Damien himself — but no matter. What was done was done.

(OOC: Yeah, I figured I'd throw in some mercs for shits and giggles more than anything. A nice Curb-Stomp Battle to serve as contrast to a real fight that will probably be booked later. Isaac trusts Clare, which is the reason he told her his life story, but Aulde knows what lies in her heart, courtesy of the Eyes and Teeth. He won't reveal her as a mole, though. The Eyes and Teeth has a plan that involves her continued survival.)

edited 2nd Mar '11 1:08:38 PM by KillerClowns

Feidl felt elated. She had done it. For a moment she had thought her plan hadn't worked; somebody had tampered with the first portal, she was sure of it, but no matter. She was through now, and a vast, new, unsuspecting world was her playground, with all its mysteries and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Right now, she was standing amidst the charred remains of what appeared to be some kind of camp. How intriguing! A burnt corpse - humankind, presumably - lay on the floor by her feet, still smouldering. She licked her lips. She loved the smell of a good barbecue.

Flinn dispatched the last mercenary in sight with a quick arrow of white light across the throat. It didn't feel good. He wasn't used to killing humans. Scalies, harpies, yes, yes, but... never a human or a carl before this.

He stood up, looking around in disgust. There was complete and utter carnage. He was no stranger to blood and violence, but this was... ugh. Were his new allies incapable of killing something cleanly? Maybe I've made a mistake throwing my lot in with them... he thought uneasily.

(OOC: For now until this Friday, I be studying for my exams. So sweet dreams Clare.)

(OOC: I was about to answer you. Oh well... BTW, does she look human?)

Gavril noticed Feidl the moment she got there. There was something off about her. Could it be that she's the dark god he tried to summon before? If she was, then it's quite dissapointing. As he approached her, he noticed she was looking one of the corpses with a rather depraved face. "Heh, Good..." he thought, it was obvious that she was the same kind as him, and there wasn't any need to act like a saint.

"Hey gorgeous, do you like the place? It was all me." He said with a disturbing smile.

With that little bunch of enemies out of their way, Vince flew back to the ground where everyone else was. He turned back around, scanning the area for more... yeah, they were okay for the time being. He waited to see where they were to head next.

(OOC: If it's needed later on, I could bring my villain from my own story in, a Lugia Gjinka who wants Vince dead. He's probably the only one in the story who could take him down, if Vince comes off as too overpowered after a while.

Also, does anyone know what year this is taking place?)

edited 2nd Mar '11 3:25:33 PM by CrystalGlacia

"Oh? My, my, what is this beautiful thing? It's like some sort of demon! Ah, this is gonna be so much fun! I can barely stand to think about it!"

Damien whipped his cloak, covering himself in its inkly blackness. A cloud passed over the moon, suffocating the light. Aleister reacted quickly, letting his wings unfold. He'd lost Damien. This is bad!

"Hey, buddy, would mind sitting this one out? I just gotta kill this thing." Aleister reacted immediately and swung his knife. He cut only air. Then he saw the concussion grenade lying at his feet. Shit!

All of his senses were attacked simultaneously. The sheer force of it was overwhelming. His eyes burned up into slag and he felt a steel toed boot plant itself into his stomach again and again. He crumpled, grasping himself. His stomach gave way and he heaved up a pool of warm vomit. With a final struggling gasp, Aleister fell into the puddle and lay still.

"Nighty night! Now, where were we? Oh yes, I remember! The part where I kill you!" The disembodied voice was eery, but the thing's spawn knew not of such things. It's master saw through its eyes, searching desperately for the human.

"Psst! I'm right here!" Damien's butterfly knife sunk into the back of the man-thing's head, slicing right through its peel-like skin to the rotten flesh underneath. He pulled down, ripping open its backside like a fruit. Damien smiled and opened his mouth wide. The creature bled a sickly brown fluid from its back, which Damien lapped up like water from the Holy Grail. Thoroughly satisfied, he kicked the thing off the blade of his knife and licked the blade clean.

"MM MM MMMM! That is finger-licking good!"

edited 2nd Mar '11 3:26:34 PM by KSPAM

The Haunting disintegrated into a cloud of acrid black smoke soon after it was torn by Damien's blade, and reformed, unscathed. Aulde had vanished, watching from some dark place, cloaked by illusions and stealth alike. The Sigil again spoke into Damien's mind, with a tone of annoyance and indignation.

A̬͕̘ͦ̋̌͌̌̆ ̼̫̱ͤͅk̫̳͕̘̫͉̽̆͒ͅn̟̦̩̩ͨͣͭ̽ͫ̾i̱ͩ̒͋ͪ̈́f̳͙̞̤̠͒ͩ̇̈́̍̈ͅe̜̙͚͐͊ ̞̼̙̜̫̣ͤof̪̘̞̮̱̓̉ͅ ͙͇̞̪̜̗̒̔͒ͩs̰̺̖t̗͔̗̱̉̂̊ë̫͕͉̱́ͥ̿̐͌̓͆el̯̊̄̽ͧͩ͛?͍͙̺̾ ̥̫͍̮̳̑͋̓ͯͯͦ ̲̮ͨ̂ͧD͗̄͒o̠̾̔ͤ̇͂ͭ͗ ͉y̙̎̍̒̿̉ő͇̝͚̹̂̾u̺̜̜͂̌̎͑͛ ̬͓͖̞h̯̙̻͔̥̪̦̎̔̆ͤ̒a͎̟̬̰̒̉̓͐ͦv̞̩̯͕ͥ̔̚e͔͉ͫͧͤͫ̄̑̚ ͙̫̲͍͍͉ͩ͌ͩ̒͗̐ͅt̎ȟ͚̉ͅẹ̩̖̻͙̹̋͗̑ͅ s̯͍̗̮ͮ̀ͣ͂ͭͤl̼̙͍̽̑͂̿ͧǐ̳̍ͨͧͨ̎̚g̮̼̦͚̬͌̏h̺͙͋̏̑͑̄t̤͚͈͑ͩ̆̽͌eͤ́͐̎̌̽ś͚̭̭͈̉̃ͫtͮ̎ͮͧ̚ ͚̥͍̙̋̚c̹̩ͪͭ̈́̋̈ͅo̳͔͉̪ͅͅm̫̲̹ͩ̐p͖̦̺̫̲͓̒̐r̘̦͔̭̐̂e̝͚͈ͫͪhͯ̋̿͆ͪ̀̂ê͔͔͓̗͖̪͑̋n͈͙̰̰͇͈̜s̺ͦ͆͐̋ͣi̖̬̳̯͎̯͊̊̇̽̂őn͌ ́̽ͯo̾f̱͉̭̳͊̂ w̺͈̮͓̿͊̄̏͆͌̅ḫ̺̲̫͖̺a̹̤ͭ́̎̄t͉̱͚̺͓͕͐͊͆ͨ̓ ͚̰ͤͥI̘̦͖̩̘̱̚ ͭ̾a̭̲͔͚̙͇ͪ̓m̦̲̏ͩ̅̄?̞͉̫̜͔̾͂͌̑̓̊ ̼̇ͩ̽ͮ ̞͈̮͍͈̦ͬ̊ͫ̎̒͌ͥI͉̖̟̓̔̽̄ͯͩ̊ ̲̙͎̟̗̯̮s̻̰a̼̯͇̅͆̇͗̽ỉ̟̓̂̃ͩ̾d̳͈̮̮̜̱͌̐ͦͤ͌:ͫ ̺̙̤̮̱̀̍͑̑̆̄ͣṡ̤̰̩͕̜͇̯̲̼͎̲̯̗͍̱̩̞͆ͬͦͨ͗̾h͍͙̰̲̎̎̂̈́̾̄͐̊̅͂ͤͧ͌͆̽ͦ̚o̺̝͙̣̥̳̞͔͔͉̱͍͈̪̱̰̘͍ͬͤ͊̇͆̑ͥ̂͑ͅw͔̬̼̮̥̦̳̳̙̳̐̓ͯ͗̒̿̒̃͒̽ͭ̓ͦ ̞̥̳͈͙̭̤̤̺͎̙̬̹͈̹̬ͨ̊̐͌̈́̀̈͐m̻̱̞̮̖̘̗̠͓̼̪͖̺͔̂̑́̈́͒̿̓ͧ͛̾͆̒ͤ̈ͧ̋ͮȇ̞̠̦̠̺̙̰͗̈̈́̂ͪ̃ͮ̾ͦ̒̄ͬ̚ ̫̻̘̭̣͑̍ͦy͇̗̮͉̖̫̜͎̟̘̘͔̠̘͓͖̜͂̇͛̂o͇͙̬̦̿́̉ͮͫũ̙̺̱̘̣͍̱͚̤̓́̆r̥̜̝̝̰̝̲̹̻̦̬͇̮̯͍͖ͭ̈̈́ͩ̓̌ͮ̃̀ͥ̋͑̓̍̔ ̥͎̭͎̙̗̙̹̭̞ͭͪ́̈̐̈́ͤ̔ͤͧ͐̈̅ͨp͇̫̠̰̭ͤ͒̈́̑̍̑͛̋̋̐o̖͔̝͍̖͎͚͕̖͖͔ͭ̍ͩ̈́ͩ̊ͧ̈̃͗ͤ̓́̍ͪ̾w̲̮͙̘̥͕͍̟̘̱͈ͯͪ̆͌ͨ̚e̬͔͉̖͉̲̝̻̙̲̱̍̇ͯͩͥ̓̎̿ͦ̊͂̄̚r̰͓̲͉̝̹̺ͣ̏̅̎̇̃̓͌̆͗̆̾̂́!̱̼̳̭̝̳̲̺͕̘̮̘̣̂ͯ̈́ͨ̇̽̌ͮ A knife of steel? Do you have the slightest comprehension of what I am? I said: show me your power!

Again it waited, arms outstretched, eager to receive Damien's next assault.

Elsewhere, another fell to Alice's weapon. She leaped from the underbrush like a beast, spear out, impaling the poor man from behind, and slipped back into the jungle before his friends realized what had happened. Three left.

(OOC: The creature Damien is fighting has no intention of defending itself; there's really nothing Damien — or any inhabitant of the physical plane — could do to kill it, and it is equally incapable of killing him. It simply wants to test him — both his mind and his body — before making any offers.)

edited 2nd Mar '11 4:00:08 PM by KillerClowns

(OOC: @ eligram: Sorry, didn't mean to be impatient. I just figured that since everybody else was talking about introducing villains, one more couldn't possibly hurt. And yes, she looks human, at least the way she's currently dressed. She's tall, but not extraordinarily so, she's built much more like a human than an elf, and her ears are pointed, but not larger than human ears.)

Feidl beamed at the human. "Oh, I love it! Such style, such vision!"

Interesting, she thought. So much destruction, and to be so brazen and so open about it? This should be fun.

"Feidl, at your service," she said. She could give out the name quite casually; it was not widely known, and there were certainly none on this world who would know its significance... yet.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Kibest got to his feet and dusted himself off. Keeping low and to the shadows, he crept towards the site where the sounds of gunfire had come from, and gazed at the figures now occupying it. There was a woman who appeared worryingly calm - even happy - for one so covered in blood, a pale man clutching a knife, a small furry creature which looked disconcertingly humanoid, some kind of towering robot man and a... red, hovering thing. Certainly not your run-of-the-mill thugs; this was more of that spooky supernatural shit.

The floor was littered with bodies - and weapons. Kibest wondered if the supernatural team would leave any of them where they lay; more than ever, he really wasn't happy being unarmed.

(OOC: Fixed. I assumed he was still camouflaged.)

edited 2nd Mar '11 4:51:20 PM by BobbyG

^(OOC: Also Gant.)

"Alright, let's dance!" His grin widened. He'd always wanted to say that.

He tore off his cloak and ripped it to shreds, throwing the pieces skywards like confetti. He tipped back on his toes and let gravity pull him straight down into his shadow. Both he and it slipped silently into nothing. The night was still. Even the scraps of cloth possessed an unearthly quiet as they flitted about.

"And a one!" Damien appeared underneath one of the scraps, knife in hand. A swift cut rended the creature's flesh, and Damien was gone. Now a cut ftom the front. The left. The right. Above. Behind. Damien flitted about as the cloth fell, disappearing and reappearing at the drop of a hat.

"I call this one The Dance Of The Black Swan! Enjoy!" The cuts came faster and faster, until the time lag between each cut became indistinguishable. The whole thing was a whirlwind of blood and steel. The thing's physical body was being eviscerated, torn to pieces. Finally the scraps fell to the ground and the attack ceased. Damien stood over his foe and flicked blade clean of the gore. As if on cue, the thing's body fell apart, bursting into fluttering little bits of meat and skin.

"Fin."

edited 2nd Mar '11 4:25:29 PM by KSPAM

(OCC: @Bobby G: Don't be. I was going to say that you should anyway.

@Crystal Glacia:If I'm not wrong, this is taking place around the year 2350... No sorry, around 2035. It's in the post #22.)

"The name's Gavril Dudnic, It's a pleasure." He says as he takes the hand of Feidl and kisses it. "So, Can I ask why a lovely girl is doing all by herself in this rotten place?"

At that time, Jacob was looking how Alice and company had annihilated the small group of mercenaries. There was no chance in hell that we could kill this many monsters by themselves. He needed to call for backup. As he took his radio, someone began to communicate with him

"Poisson, this is Headquaters, report your status."

"Poisson here. We're... alive. For now at least. By the way, good timing, I was about to call you. We could use some backup here, these people are more problem than we thought"

"Already taken care of that. Actually that was the reason we called. They should arrive in 10 minutes."

"I see. Who did you sent?"

"Lilith and Layka. Joshua with them too."

"YOU WHAT!?!?" Jacob yelled both in anger and fear.

"Poisson, calm down."

"Don't you tell me that!! Layka should have been enough, so why the hell would you send Lilith too? She shouldn't be put in..."

"Watch your tone, Poisson. This was our leader call, not ours. So If you have a problem with this, you can adress it directly to him."

"..." Jacob couldn't respond.

"If this is someone's fault, is yours Poisson. At this point you should've cleared your mission. So I suggest that you beggin to taki this more serious. That's all."

After that, it as just silence. Jacob just stood there, thinking how the situation got out of his hand.

"...Shit."

"I am an explorer and a lover of adventure," Feidl replied. This was true, and was affirmed by her hiking boots and her imposing, bulging backpack, which she carried as though it was as light as a feather. "I saw all this smoke, and what can I say? My curiosity was piqued. What about yourself? What brings you here?"

S͕̜̼̼̏̿͐ͧ̎͛à͙̳̦͍͋tͨͪ͌i̪̳͎̰̥ͥ̇̍s͇͕͙͉̻̄̀f͎̠̺̜͂̌̂ͫ̈́å̙̇́c̞̍ͤͬͦͮt͖͕ͭoȑ͎͙̣̍y̠͚ͩ̚.̼̱͍̣̞̪͓ Satisfactory.

Time stopped.

Damien was shown many things: himself as a king... no, a god. Women giving him every imaginable pleasure. Immortality made his. His every whim and desire enacted as law. All those who even thought sedition against him annihilated. But this was just a tiny taste, the dreams of small men. Perhaps something Damien could achieve himself.

But even if Damien destroyed every enemy on this world, enslaved every man, woman, and child, and ruled until the sun devoured the planet in its death throes, he would still never even glimpse the hidden knowledge the Eyes and Teeth offered. With this wisdom, he could expand beyond the tiny little rock called "Earth," into the cosmos. He could become lord of all space, master of every star in the night sky, king of every creature that had even the most meager of thoughts. All this could be Damien's. And all it would cost him was his soul.

His soul: a bargain.

His consciousness floated, formless, in the void, laid bare before the vast grotesqueness of the Eyes and Teeth. And the Eyes and Teeth awaited an answer.

(OOC: Note that while the Eyes and Teeth will give Damien all this knowledge, having Damien's soul would also means it can smite him at a whim. Or possess his body. Or torture him for a few decades. It can do whatever it feels like to him, really, if he gives it his soul. So, from an out-of-story perspective, I can warn that it's not precisely a good deal in the long run, given the overall mindset of the Eyes and Teeth. In the short term, however...)

edited 2nd Mar '11 6:24:57 PM by KillerClowns

"Hmmmm... I suppose unlimited power would be nice, but the cost, oh the cost!" He swung his arms about dramatically, emphasizing every word with a false bravado.

"My very soul! Without it, I cannot ever truly be free! What will become of me without my soul? I could die! Or worse! I could even end up working at a sleazy fast food taco joint! Oh the humanity!"

"But still! Nothing is ever gained through restraint! If one wishes to truly live they must accept the world and take it in! Its love, its hate, its power and its pain. Everything is equal and everything is balanced! For every misfortune there is a blessing! And for every blessing, there is evil. And I..."

He leaped, pressing his hand to his chest. "I will be the herald of that despair! So come to me, Oh Master Of The Late-Night Garlic Pizza Nightmare! I accept you! Fill me to the brim with your power!"

(OOC: Ohhh shit. Damien was never supposed to get this powerful )

(OOC: A brief, late note to Eligram: Ianto is not a werewolf per se; it's more complicated than that. For the moment, think of him as something close to the group's Arthur Dent. Granted, as you will soon see, a very deranged Arthur Dent, and one with many a disturbing quirk, but nonetheless... He is probably the least badass person in attendance.)

The sudden arrival of the mercenaries temporarily jarred Ianto back to some semblance of sense. He had to find cover, quickly, and there was little to be found. Understanding that the mad woman, the small furry fellow and the now floating, faceless Sicilian - he chose not to dwell on this development, as it seemed inconsequential at this point - were holding the crew back quite handily, he took more time than he would have under other circumstances to find proper shelter. A large tree sufficed, and he lowered himself to the ground, all without a sound. He had become rather skilled in making sure that he was not noticed; it tended to weigh nicely against his somewhat striking appearance.

Once the sounds of violence had neatly subsided, he rose and walked back to the others.

"Who were those, anyway? I mean honestly, why does everyone seem to want to ki-"

He noticed an odd sensation in his right arm. Looking down, it became clear to him that he had not been quite so evasive as he had intended: A bullet was lodged neatly in his forearm, and blood slowly trickled down his arm from his wound, staining his shirt and khakis.

He released an irritated sigh, then took his left thumb and forefinger and, after a few moments of rummaging, ripped the round from his arm, leaving a fine spatter across his chest.

He looked up sheepishly, closing his ruddy fist around the retrieved bullet.

"As I was saying..."

edited 2nd Mar '11 7:21:57 PM by JHM

(OOC: Don't worry, there's always the fine print.)

The Eyes and Teeth filled Damien's mind with the secrets of faster-than-light travel, of bending the fabric of spacetime, and of constructing machines to convert human life force into raw energy with an astounding rate of efficiency.

Unfortunately, the Eyes and Teeth neglected to deliver that information in a format Damien's mind could comprehend. It occasionally forgot that mortals could only think in three dimensions. So Damien found himself lying on the forest floor with a splitting headache, his mind filled with diagrams and schematics which he could not actually understand. More problematically, there were exactly four beings on Earth who could comprehend them. The first was kept in a padded cell, wasn't allowed any sharp objects, and had to have his diapers changed frequently lest he devour his own feces. The second was a freak, part of a traveling carnival in the Third World, who couldn't speak and bit the heads off live chickens for handfuls of change. The third was a camel. The fourth was far more powerful than even Damien could ever hope to be. He lived in the Appalachian, and was absolutely certain he was, in fact, a rabbit.

Still, it wasn't a complete loss. As it did for all who accepted its power, the Eyes and Teeth had granted Damien the powers of a mage. They were significantly less impressive than what Damien had already, though being able to whisper thoughts into people's minds, read their thoughts, and make them see things that weren't there did have their uses... particularly in the areas of driving mortals to pitiful, gibbering, crying madness, becoming impossible to noticed (not the same as invisibility, but arguably more useful), and dodging attacks as soon as the attacker thought of them. These were difficult tasks, but if one had significant reserves of power to draw from... plus, the eldritch knowledge meant he could sense portals, and open and close them at will, provided he didn't think too hard about it. Finally, he could ask for assistance from Sigils and the Eyes and Teeth — if he didn't mind a bit of grovelling.

edited 2nd Mar '11 8:00:28 PM by KillerClowns

(OOC: Something tells me Damien will like this turn of events when he wakes up. For plot's sake though, we should probably keep him under for a while.)

Flinn winced. That had to hurt.

"Ouch," he said. "You want some help binding that up? I'm no healer, but you need to do something with it." He began to take his jacket off - wouldn't be the first time he'd seen green material wrapped around someone's bleeding limb, but he'd have to buy a new one when he got back home.

(OOC: by the way, if Alice and Isaac hate mages so much, why are they cool with Flinn's shields and energy attacks?)

(OOC: Honestly, plot necessity. Can't have Alice trying to kill over half the cast — she's not that crazy. In-story excuse, they decided early on, "fuck it, we're all stuck in this together," and eventually come to the conclusion not all mages are sell-souls. If they figure out what Aulde is, or bump into Damien, on the other hand...

EDIT: Also: is Aleister out cold or dead?)

Aulde stepped out from the shadows, and looked at Damien with a grimace. He then grabbed him and dragged him off into a shadowed part of the rain forest. He surrounded him with little dancing illusions of shadow, to scare off any beasts. He nodded, said, "sweet dreams," and took the Two of Swords from him. Finally, Aulde checked the Fool; a healthy complexion had returned to the figure's face, and he smiled joyfully. His clothes had also improved; his motley appeared to have been woven from gold, and encrusted with jewels. Aulde smiled. But he'd just gotten started. He returned to the hut and sat outside, waiting for more souls to guide to his lord.

edited 2nd Mar '11 8:52:58 PM by KillerClowns