Eclipse of the Gods

Whilst everyone else seemed somewhat disappointed or angry at the dancing and general tomfoolery, Flandre wasn't. She had descended partway through the Joker's performance and, at its conclusion, clapped politely. She'd done the same for the Master's, though it was much less entertaining, from her point of view.

Levi nodded her head in time to the Clown's singing. Stern simply looked annoyed at the waste of time. They needed to hurry!

Although she had no idea why they needed to hurry.

Dearche looked pensive as she was still flipping through her book.

Levi laughed,

“You're funny Mr Joker!” Stern stared at Levi,

“Why do you call him Joker?” Levi shrugged,

“That playing card he gave out...its the joker...therefore, he's the Joker!” Stern rolled her eyes. Dearche did the same,

“Just because he gave out that playing card does not mean that's his name.” Levi looked downtrodden, her pigtails drooping,

“Aww...”

"...You're all bonkers."

"...On that we are in agreement, automaton..."

Saber viewed the displays of The Joker and The Master with barely contained scorn. How could they be so carefree and imbecilic? They were making a mockery of the groups plight and causing them to look like buffoons. It was all she could do to hold back on gutting them with Ex... Exca... Her sword.

"Are you quite done fooling around?" she barked at the group in general, but especially to the two clowns. "If you do not take this more seriously, I fear I may have to discipline some of you."

The Lich grinned. Or, he would have, if he could do anything but, and anyway what was left of his face was covered by his helmet and a chainmail veil. "Well, me girl, I'd like to see you try, dirtgrubber."
Wait, why did I call her that?

Joker looks over at the Master after his performance, rage apparent in his eyes but otherwise non-apparent in the rest of his body. "Nice performance," the clown said, clapping his hand in a dull manner walking up to the Time Lord. "Sloppy and a bit amateurish, but overall a particularly good attempt." The Joker then wrapped his arm around the Master's shoulder. "Probably with a bit of practice you'll be almost as good as me!"

Joker then covered his mouth near the Master's eye and whispered: "   Try to upstage me like that again and/or lampoon me like that again and I will turn your kidneys into pincushions AFTER I tear them out.   " The tone of the jester's voice was similar to some kind of ancient demon ready to kill the Time Lord at a moments notice, able to make lesser men eject their bowels at the very sound of it......worse of all, the clown was dead serious in making that threat.....

"But don't keep you hopes up!" the Joker said aloud before releasing the Time Lord. At Lich's warning: "OOOOO, that's a really big hammer you got there!" the clown commented, showing absolutely no fear at the Lich's threat. "You work in carpentry for giants or something? Or maybe percussive massage therapy for dragons? Probably explains the armor! HEH! Speaking of tenderizing, is there a deli somewhere we can raid? I suddenly gotta a hankering for some salami!"

At Flandre and Levi's applause, and the latter's actual laughing: "Thank you, thank you!" the clown said as he bowed to the girls. "It seems I'm starting to develop my own fanbase in the young adolescent females demographic. A bit young to be groupies though, you what I'm saying?" he said as an aside.

As Saber's threat: "Discipline? Oh mah stars and garters, I never even dreamed YOU as the type to be into S&M, little Ms. Camelot!" the Joker said. "Bet you have a medieval dungeon somewhere where you make people squeal out information, eh? Its always the quiet, stuffy ones it seems.....but sorry, no thanks! I may wish to dabble in that sorta thing some day, but there's only one who's allowed to brutalize me physically........"

He was about to say whom, but his mind suddenly drew a total blank. He had a feeling this being was extremely important to him for some reason......why would he LET some beat him to a pulp if they weren't? This amnesia thing is getting annoying, Joker thought.

edited 30th Nov '11 8:39:52 AM by UdtheImp

The Master chuckles. "Don't worry Jester you can take the women... I seem to be having memories of a wife. And a beard. For some reason they're connected in my mind."

He doesn't seem to look too scared at the Joker's threat. "I guess I'll just need to work a little bit harder then. I will admit your performance was masterful."

The Master grins at his little pun and turns to Saber. "Same as the clown. Only one man can... can..."

Amnesia coming in at the worst possible moments I see.

The faceless figure watched the group. Then, with a slight and vaguely familiar tug in the pit in his stomach and a flash of dark purple light, he found himself stood among them.

What just happened?

Daido soon saw Vanitas. His eyes blinked then looked at Zedd. "Uh, Z, I think one of your friends showed up." Daido said, noting the similar looks.

"Hey! I would admit that The Master and the Clown has put up a good performance!" Richard praised, "However, I prefer the Clown's performance, since he's INSANE!"

"Hey knight! You gotta admit, The Clown's performance is SPECTACULAR!" Richard said to the Knight, "Anyways, I better shut up now, or else I would get 'disciplined' by you."

It dreamed of freedom.

Tearing through the sky, body undulating like some airborne serpent, mismatched wings spread wide. The air here smelled of sweat and peppermint and motor oil, complementing the macabre landscape bellow. The earth was putrid meat and mountains of crystallized sugar, clouds of chalk dust drifting through the air propelled by streams of mustard gas. The sky was blue, though it was a deep blue, almost purple, and tinged with sickly green. As It passed, the landscape rearranged, chunks of the ground shifting and rearranging themselves into a chessboard pattern.

Things, living things, scurried about, some running in terror, some of them slumped over in despair, some of them dead. A rare few were all three. It looked down on them. It laughed, for their suffering was, to It, a very good joke. Really, could it have been anything else? No, of course not. Turning Its gaze ahead, It absentmindedly flicked a bit of stone off of Its shoulder. While It enjoyed what had been done here, there was little time to revel in such little pleasures. It had better things to do.

It dreamed of vengeance.

A being, at his feet, just barely alive. Blood and tears stained a once pure white coat. A throne room, the colors of the walls and floor shifting and fading and bleeding into one another like a nauseating rainbow. Scattered around, there was jewelery, gold necklaces set with curiously shaped gems. In It's hand, a tiara was clutched, a gem in the shape of a six-pointed star embedded in it. Some vague sense of satisfaction came from running Its thumb along its length, a reminder of a job well done.

The being sat there on the floor, sobbing. After a few moments, she -for it was most definitely a she- gazed up at him, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. "Why?" She asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. It leaned forward, cupping her chin in Its hand. No, not a hand. A paw, stolen from a noble cat. It spoke, Its voice like honey and grease to Its ears.

"Oh, my dearest princess." She was royalty, then. It didn't put much stock in that sort of thing. Anyone could claim to be regal, but very few could prove it. "You of all ponies should know better than to question my motives. A better question would have been 'Why not'." She tried to speak again, but was quickly silenced. Her head hit the floor with a dull thud. It frowned. No, that wouldn't do. It wasn't satisfying enough. This was to be Its moment of triumph, no simple death would do.

It felt a hoof on Its shoulder. It turned, almost surprised, to face an ally. The Princess of the Night, colors dulled to a uniform gray, a smug smirk on her lips. Her mane was as the night sky and flowed behind her, as if caught in a gentle breeze. When she spoke, her words seemed to flow and twist and bloom. She had always been Its favorite of the two. She knew how to have fun. "What now, my lord? Thou hast slain my retched sister, surely there are no further games to be played."

It laughed again, almost mockingly. "Oh, my little Lulu. You never did see the big picture. I'm free now. I can do whatever I want, be whatever I want! Sure, it might get boring after a while. But for now, I'll entertain myself with the small stuff." With that, It rose, gathering speed until it burst through the ceiling and into the warm midsummer air. It grinned, surveying the landscape. This was Its world now, a massive sandbox with toys that screamed when broken. "Hail, to the old god of Equestria!" It roared, before shooting off into the sky like a patchwork comet.

And then everything exploded.

It was really cool.

The cocoon split, of its own volition rather than by the actions of its occupant. This particular creature was a curious sort, if not in appearance than certainly in composition. It was composed entirely of simple gray stone, bits of it crusted with dried moss and pigeon droppings. It fell forward, raising a small cloud of dust as It hit the ground.

The statue was of a serpentine creature, as tall as two men. Its head was of a goat, or a horse, it was hard to tell. Its eye brows were bushy and a long beard sprouted from Its chin. Two horns rested on its head, one the antler of a stag, the other a bluish, twisting thing from some animal long lost to the annals of history. It had two hands and two legs, for a certain value of the word 'hands'. One was the talon of an eagle, the other the paw of a lion. Its legs were similarly mismatched, one scaly and clawed, the other furred and ending in a cloven hoof. A pair of wings rose from Its back, from a bird and a bat.

Its features were frozen in a mask of terror, like it had seen something no man or beast should see. A single crack ran along Its length, though it was barely detectable. And so It sat there, an strange sculpture in a strange land, dull and unresponsive.

Inside, something pulsed and writhed. It would not be contained. Not for long.

edited 30th Nov '11 6:04:56 PM by Bindlestick

The Overlord whipped around, raising his axe to the statue as it fell to the ground. He instinctively raised his unarmed hand to call for...the amnesia flowed over him again. Call for what?

He dismissed the thought and kept his axe trained on the statue, eyeing it's form with his glowing eyes. The sculpture was of a creature unknown to him, which didn't surprise him, given the gaps in his memory. Slowly, he lowered his axe.

Invisible eyes turned to the Overlord. It wanted to call to him, to speak and torment this strange man. It wanted to rend and rip and slash and burn and tear this world asunder. But that would have been too easy. Too simple. These were but fantasies now. Someone, something had contained It, confined It to a prison of hard stone.

This could be remedied easily. He could see things here, he could feel things. It was simply a matter of reaching out in the right way at the right time. Something about the statue called to the Overlord. "Come closer" it seemed to say. Any Overlord worth his salt would have backed away by now, but there was something alluring about this frightful piece of masonry, something inviting. Friendly, even.

The Overlord lowered his axe further, maybe whatever this...'sculpture' was, held a link to the gaps in his memory? He stepped closer to it, inspecting the stone figure closer, it seemed to call to him. But that couldn't have been possible, it was just a statue...

As the Overlord approached, the crack seemed to widen, to the point where he could probably fit his finger inside if he felt like it. Inside, It smiled as It fed. This man, this creature, absolutely reeked of strife and war, of bad things done to good people and of evil deeds gone unpunished. Oh, and it was delicious. It didn't know why, of course. Something about all that bloodshed, all that war, all that chaos seemed to appeal to It.

It was merely feeding on leftovers, true, but it would be enough for now. There would be more fun to be had, more battles to be fought, more conflict and more strife to draw sustenance from. It liked the sound of that.

...The last straw.

...To dishonour a knight like that, there was only one outcome.

...The clown had to die.

...At least, that's what Saber intended, as she gripped her blade and issued a intense glare at the Joker, her killing intent flaring up so wildly that it was a wonder the landscape around her didn't suddenly burst into flame. But... Something stopped her.

"...little Ms. Camelot!"

The words echoed in her head. Camelot. Camelot. Camelotcamelotcamelotcamelot... Why? Why did that one word... Why did she feel like it held some deep meaning for her? She shook her head, her murderous intent dispelling as confusion and irritation took over.

"...Ugh... Accursed memory loss..." she grumbled, turning away from the clown. At the very least, she would try to ignore him until this venture was through. Random berserker rages were unbefitting of a knight, after all.

The Overlord reached up with his unarmed hand, stretching an armored finger toward the crack. The Overlord was not stupid, and he might not have attempted this should he still have his memories, but something about the statue seemed to..appeal to him. He reached into the crack.

The Andalite's four eyes merely narrowed as he watched the clown and the other being dance across the bridge, his four feet stabilizing him and allowing him to cross the swaying bridge without incident- although once, one of his cloven hooves almost slipped over the edge. Nevertheless, the rusted hulk of a bridge was easily surmountable for the group; whether through teleportation or dance, the group had made it over the bridge. The wasteland on the other side, of course, wsa still more or less the same, althougn ow the road seemed to be better maintained and as such easy to cross.

As the group traversed the path, winding through cliffs and canyons, occasionally interspersed with the charred wreckage of a vehicle or house, they owuld find bits and pieces of memories floating through their minds, still vague but growing clearer and clearer as they continued towards another valley- a familiar red light rising from the bowl-shaped crater ahead...

____________________

... As the group descended towards the tower, the Andalite noticed several things. For one thing, the complex was far more than a singular tower- although the ebon-black, wickedly bladed pile of crystals was obviously the most noticeable part of the strucutre. It was surrounded by an array of other buildings of all shapes and sizes, like malign growths surrounding the largest tumor. In between these buildings were landing pads, rigidly marked fields, and what appeared to be some kind of enormous laser weapon. As the party walked down the path towards the building, they would see the door- wide enough to accompany them all side-by-side wide open, spilling a radiant white light into the gloom and appearing extremely inviting.

As the little trio flew ahead of the group, Stern kept a sharp lookout.

The clown's words had gone totally over Levi's head, and she had been more interested in finding out where they were going.

As the three flew, memories popped up from time to time. Stern's expression became more stony, less emotional. Levi became a little more electric, her gaze jumping all over the place.

Dearche seemed to become more...dismissive. She didn't seem impressed anymore.

Stern then got a flash of a memory...

It was a dark night...lights then flashing...

Standby Ready

“Ready Raising Heart?”

Stern shook her head, as if clearing her head. Who was that? The voice was similar to her own...but higher pitched. And she felt a rising wave of revulsion. And she couldn't explain it.

It seemed the other two also had a similar memory. Levi's expression became almost feral, rage in her eyes. Dearche had a very disgusted face on, as if she had stepped in something disgusting.

Stern looked at the other two, and they met her eyes. They all knew that they had all remembered something important.

When they arrived at the edge of the...well base, Stern took notes.

“A staging ground of some kind. Clearly marked for military usage.”

Zedd was once again dumbstruck, but this time by Vanitas' helmet. Why was a simple domed head-covering attached to a dichrome ensemble making him so angry?

RANGERS.

He shook his head and continued, looking at the laser. THAT looked like something that could solve his technicolor problems. But... why was he thinking of his problems as technicolor?

Another one who wasn't particularly polite company, who ran off without even acknowledging his presence. Fiddlesticks shrugged in some form of good humor and was about to take off himself for parts unknown when the sound of another pod being violently destroyed by it's occupant caught his attention. There was a man in armor waving an axe around. Simple enough, but before the scarecrow could even attempt to probably be ignored again another pod split open, revealing some sort of ridiculous chimera wannabe statue. The Overlord was approaching the statue, reaching for something Fiddlesticks couldn't see from this distance.

"Masters?" He called out, not sure if his voice would once again fall on deaf ears. Curious, or something approximating curiosity, the scarecrow hobbled over to get a close look.

As Joker approached the tower and collection of buildings, he began regaining some of this memories.....

He started to remember.....various other criminals just like him, all of them colorful in their own ways, each having some type of theme......all of them operating in a vast city that seems dreary, even during the day.......a place, intended as a prison, merely a vacation spot.....having.....a wife? No, that last one CAN'T be right!

.......could it?

Joker shrugged. However he was frustrated at not remembering why bats annoyed him to no end.

As he examined his surroundings, he sore at least one of those buildings looked familiar. Probably just him though.

"I'll assume you're his annoying cousin." Daido said to Vanitas, seeing Zedd's anger. As Daido approached the building. Soon, he heard something ringing in his head.

"I will be the one to free you poor denizens of this miniature garden"

He recognized that voice. It was his own. He shook his head. He had no time to figure out that it meant.

edited 30th Nov '11 9:49:12 PM by Psyga315

Flandre floated along in silence, trying to piece together the various disconnected memories. They were somewhat less colourful than many others', the vampire girl was seeing nothing more than bits of the Scarlet Devil Mansion's seemingly endless corridors. The fairies were an oddity, compared to the glimpses of the other people she saw. They were so small and... fragile.

"...Hades." Valvatorez stated in a nostalgic tone, looking at the imposing structure with an air of familiarity. "It feels oddly... homely." He stated, though others can obviously call him crazy for thinking such an imposing, malignant structure even look homely at all.

Frowning, he shook his head and stared at the thing again, before going on to enter the domain.

edited 1st Dec '11 12:48:45 AM by GreyStar