Talia laughs, "Don't be silly. I don't know him. Your memory must be at fault."
"Johann. Scary. Masked. Shadow Creature. Tentacles?" Johann. . . or maybe it was something else, but it sounded like Johann."
Anime geemu wo shinasai!The pressure remained against Cato's neck as he left the cafe. Outside, the sun was dim and the sky cloudy, but ahead... The parking lot appeared glaring, barely visible, as if the sun was overly bright.
The voice spoke, with an almost thearetical sound to it. "Alright, then, show yourselves! I, the great Morris Philippa, have taken..." Behind Cato, the man raised a hand-the one not holding the umbrella- and waved it with a flourish at Cato. "A hostage! Of your faction, no less! You try something? Well..." The umbrella pressed harder against Cato's neck, and it seemed to hum. "He gets a very bad haircut!"
The glare dispelled like mist, revealing three cloaked figures, two in white and one in red. The leftmost white cloak had a straw sun hat pulled low over his face and seemed unarmed, while the rightmost held a heavy book under his arm and had a clean shaven, gaunt face, eyes watching carefully behind his glasses. The middle cloak had a hood pulled over his head, but it did nothing to hide his long, red beard, the same color as his cloak. He also had in his hand a heavy sword, wide and thick to crush as well as cut. He held it with ease despite this.
The red cloak stepped forward, careful not to trod on the heavy garment. He spoke with a harsh, gruff voice. "Ye've led us on a chase long enough, Showman. Give it up, ye've got nowhere else ta run, an' no reason ta. We'll jus' kill you and call it a day, 'ow's that?"
"Hoho!" Cato's captor said. "I'm afraid not, dear Ciaroan. I'm having too much fun, and besides. I hate dying, and I hate being put in anyone's debt even more- Which will happen when I get revived." He seemed to consider things a moment. "I'll let him go if you kill Greenwinh there."
The white cloak with the book frowned. "Bastard, what are-"
"Quiet." Ciaroan stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Morris' face. "Just give it up."
"You're no fun." The umbrella's pressure was removed. "Guess I have to kill the poor man, then." Cato would feel a sudden spike of heat as something ignited behind him. Though he couldn't see it, the umbrella had instantly burned away to reveal a lance-like shape that burned bright white. The showman drew his arm back to stab Cato in the head, and he had only moments before it would strike...
Leone frowned. "What, Arianna?Kill you? Haven't I demonstrated enough that you should know that if I wanted you dead, you would be? It's perfectly safe, as long as you don't do anything foolish!"
Jason would find himself standing on slick, glassy black stone, a large rocky hill surrounded on all sides by a plain of slowly shimmering white grass. The grass grew only in patches and small areas here, and where it didn't the soil could be seen, as dark as the rock. The horizon was hidden, or perhaps nonexistent- It couldn't be told through the white-green clouds that covered the sky, swirling, shifting and changing with unnatural speed. The only break was a distant patch of boiling red and black clouds, lit by the occasional flash of lightning.
A short distance away was a mountain in black and white, but built into the side was a complete departure from the expected- A modern factory, with a chainlink fence, smokestacks and all. Smoke rose from it, marking the structure as operational. It seemed almost comically out of place in the alien landscape, but also reassuringly solid.
Even closer were a half-dozen Servants, elk-like creatures with a back covered in spines like a hedgehog. They began to trot Jason's way as he appeared, curious.
"Flashes?" Aanki looked bemused. "What do- Oh, you see peoples factions as flashes. That... Is unfortunate. Distracting, I see."
The businessman chuckled. "Bad luck, kid. Looks like you're stuck with the headaches, 'less you manage to get it under control. I recommend blinding yourself, that'll fix it."
"Please ignore Avrael. You'll get used to the lights without self mutilation." At Ilsa's entrance, he smiled warmly. "Ah, and the western lady joins us! Now we only miss the Mosquito. He'll be here soon, I am sure."
"Hope Johann's with him. Shadowy bastard's got some explaining to do. He ordered me to retreat from Opheln! Me!" Avrael made an offended face. "I've never been so embarassed in my life." He glanced at Ilsa. "Hm. Have we met? You seem familiar."
Sensing one of her Gifted tensing up Rachel flashed him a confident smile "Hey, relax. He's just a Gifted. You guys alone outnumber him three to one if he has any ill intent. Also, you got me to booth. The guy is either a friendly or he has no chances whatsoever"
As she said these words the elevator doors opened and so Rachel took a few confident steps outside to the lobby. Scanning the little crowd gathered there she noticed their Gifted right away.
"Heh, looks like it's our lucky day guys. He's one of our own" The Cultist told them while pointing at the guy with her thumb.
"Heh, then your free not to" Rachel said, sticking both of her hands within the pockets of her long black jacket, a small grin on her face "Sounds quite hard to think of yourself as something you don't like"
"Still, you do seem to know what's going on... Ah yeah, there is one" Rachel said after taking another quick look around the people in the lobby and after that failed to produce result she closed her eyes and felt around her surroundings "I'm guessing your new friend explained things over to you. Nice, saves me a lot of breath"
edited 18th Aug '11 4:34:32 PM by daltar
What?
Ok. This wasn't your ordinary field, that was for sure. For one thing, everything was the wrong color. The grass, the rocks he was standing on.... And was that a factory?
Even the animals were weird.
He held out his hand gingerly in the direction of the... hedgehog moose things.
"Um... Tch. Tch. Come here..."
Please, Lord, don't let it be dangerous. Or hungry.
edited 18th Aug '11 9:19:17 PM by troydenite
When he walked outside to be confronted by the three cloaked figures, Oliver's migraine only worsened. Not concentrating on the conversation between his attacker and the three newcomers, he instead focused on the pain. Go...Away...Go...Away...
As he did this the mark on his chest glowed brighter when suddenly he achieved a moment of clarity. "—ess I have to kill the poor man, then." Oliver whirled around as fast as he could to come face to face with a white-hot lance. It was in this second that the brightness of his infinity mark matched that of the weapon before him. Oliver held up his hand in a vain attempt to protect himself. Yet, just as the convection from the lance's heat began to sear his palm, an enormous force of telekinetic energy pulsed in a four meter diameter from where he was standing.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.Moving along; I am doing what I presume Hydrall wanted me to.
Mordred received his mug of infusion, and drank it, humming to himself in the meantime. When he finished it, he rose from his seat and went to the cashier, paying for it. He turned around, and strode out of the exit. Almost immediately he noticed that someone was held hostage. Quite a few thoughts passed through his head; the most prominent were running away and calling the police. Then he noticed that a silver light was shining, and its origin appeared to be his palm. He lifted his hand, and noticed that the weird eight-sign was the progenitor of the glow. Bedazzled, he stopped in his tracks, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
<OOC: My turn to respond again! Wow I'm bad it this!>
Simon took a while to notice the nod as a greeting before nodding back.
edited 24th Aug '11 2:08:49 AM by JustaUsername
Some people say I'm lazy. It's hard to disagree.Clive waited a few beats after Simon nodded, but as the painfully awkward pause stretched on, the psychologist found himself sighing into his palm. "Come on, Peaceboy," he groused, "are you really going to make me handle introductions again?" He shook his head, putting on a good-natured smile. "Fine, fine."
The blond man began to point to each of his comrades in turn. "This stick in the mud here is Simon Sapphire. Next to him is our present leader, Cultist Rachel Theresa Newman, and to her right is... George." Why didn't I ask for his last name? Oh well. "I," he swept a hand cordially over his heart and gave a slight stage bow, "am Clive Mendel. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bacchus. I look forward to working with you." The green-eyed Gifted offered a hand.
GM: AGOG S4 & F/WC RP; Co-GM: TABA, SOTR, UUA RP; Sub-GM: TTS RP. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire.I suppose it's just me, then," Avrael said. He seemed to lose interest then, seemingly lost in thought.
The spiked woman and the man in the kilt had approached under the cover of Avrael's question and now spoke. "Hey, you guys came in with Avrael, right? He tell you anything about what's going on?" She held out a hand. "Commander Tijuana," she said, then jerked a thumb at her companion. "And he's Commander Munro. We're all Commanders here, actually. You've had the luck to be in a meeting of the elite."
The Servants reached Jason's position, looking at his outstretched hand with some amusement. One snorted and its breath came out inky black, which felt hot where it touched him. The largest of them stepped forward and opened its jaws- But instead of smoke or a bite, there came a quick series of clicks and chirps entirely uncharacteristic of the Servant's size. Here and there a fragment of it fizzled in Jason's brain and seemed to imply a language he'd once known but long forgotten, but no more. It watched, waiting for his reaction.
The Showman Morris was lifted off his feet by the Field spell, flying backwards to hit hard against the wall. His lance-umbrella gouged a deep cut in the concrete where it touched. The three Infinatus Cultists seemed taken aback, but before they could react Morris was on his feet with weapon in hand.
"Woah! Hold on there, ladies and geeeentlemen, what a twist here!" The man was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "The hostage has turned against his captor! Stockholm syndrome, why have you betrayed me?" He flung a hand out. "Nevertheless, Aonghus! Odhran! Take them!"
The air bent inwards on itself and a scaly blue skinned, gangly limbed humanoid leapt out. Two goat's horns protruded from the back of its head, which was otherwise bald, and at the end of both arms and legs were flexible long claws or fingers. Aonghus, as it evidently was, went immediately for Cato, moving like a spider across the ground. It was followed quickly by another Servant, this time a childlike humanoid with its left arm covered in brown quills and feathers. This one, Odhran, hung back, the feathers on its arm crackling with red lightning.
The rightmost white cloak held up his book, the pages flipping of their own accord. His voice boomed out impossibly deep. Another bending of the air appeared, but this time much larger and above the plane of battle- Whatever was coming through was massive, and doing so slowly. Ciaroan headed for Morris, his massive sword nearly taking off the Showman's head before the Omega Cultist could bring his own weapon to parry, while the left officer, the unarmed one, stepped beside Cato.
"You should get behind me," the man said, his face still hidden by the straw hat. He raised his fists, seemingly preparing to fistfight the unnaturally long-limbed Servant now crawling their way.
The other Servant had moved nearer to Mordred, seemingly still unaware of the Gifted while it raised its arm like a rifle and took aim at Ciaroan.
Once Talia and Alex entered the Mission, they would find themselves in an entry hall that doubled as a dining hall- A table stood before them, empty of all but simple plates and silverware. A few Lesser Powers Cultists milled about inside, unarmed and at ease.
Oliver watched as the man was flung against the wall. He gripped his hand in pain as his attacker recovered. How did I do that...? He looked down at the Infinatus mark on his chest which continued to glow faintly. He was interrupted from his reverie when he heard the showman shouting, "Nevertheless, Aonghus! Odhran! Take them!"
Two grotesque creatures seemingly appeared from nowhere. What the hell are those?! It was then that the three robed figures behind him sprung into action. One took position next to him and said, "You should get behind me."
"No," replied Oliver, "No more running or hiding. I don't know what the hell is going on but it ends now." He swept open his lab coat and unholstered his pistols, wielding one in each hand. He took several steps back to keep all three attackers in his line of sight. You're a soldier, you need to stay calm— need to stay in...Control.
He aimed a pistol at both of the monsters and gave each a loving double-tap.
But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.Jason almost withdrew his hand when the second creature opened its mouth - but then it started to speak, and he stopped, wondering at the strange associations the language prompted in his mind.
He began to speak hesitantly.
"Is... is this...."
"This... I'm supposed to know something... I'm supposed to remember.... but... but I don't. Oh..."
"Please, help me to remember...."
edited 25th Aug '11 10:25:00 PM by troydenite

She hesitated, gazing at the portal in suspicion, "Leone, would I...?" she raised her handgun in question.
When I walk on the street counting my steps, magic keeps silent and reality stalks me.