Divine Singularity: A Chronicles of the Gods RP

Wrapped in the amniotic darkness of space, the planet shone. A blue-green orb, daubed with earth and ocean, wisps of cloud painted across it in slow white swirls. The distant stars looked on, cold and unblinking.

Yes, this was a young world. Its inhabitants were immature. Their technology was crude, their discoveries unrefined and undirected. They were still in a state of chaotic flux. They had not learned how to work together for their own good.   

And yet they were the only sentient beings in their universe. The Multiverse worked in mysterious ways. 

Poised in the middle of the jet-black canvas, the serene figure looked down at the world from above. His soft hand stroked at his immaculate goatee. He was clad all in white, in a flawless business suit that smelled faintly of lavender. His brown eyes were pensive, his profile unfailingly composed. To even the casual observer, he was unmistakably Arabic, handsome, affluent and cultured - that is to say, strikingly normal, insomuch as an extremely rich and elegant man is normal. Had he not been floating in the middle of space, one might pass him on the bustling streets of Dubai and remark on nothing but his sheer effortless grace. 

And his skin. His skin would draw attention.

Like living brushstrokes, black dots and curves flowed under his smooth coffee-colored skin, spreading in a mesh of beautiful patterns. They played off the starlight, shifting past his lapels and cufflinks and collar like shadows, melting into each other and reforming into new shapes, vivid and pleasing to the eye. Only the slightest impressions intruded on his face. They went up from his neck to the sides of his jaw, but left the rest untouched. Motes of ink floated off them, brushing past his suit into the vacuum. Living black and cold white, laid in perfect contrast.

The informed would recognise the patterns as words, and the words as Arabic calligraphy. But the words were not sacred text. Instead, they all said, in essence, the same thing -  

The contractee
Hereby swears and binds in ink
To fulfill the conditions stipulated above
As forfeiture on failure to complete the aforementioned terms
Payment of
One daughter
Five years
The below-signed’s soul
Effective immediately

The contractor
Hereby swears and binds in ink
To fulfill the conditions stipulated above
As forfeiture on failure to complete the aforementioned terms
Payment of
Immortal life
Eternal servitude
The contractor’s soul
Effective immediately

Signed
Nomad ‘Ayn 

Every stroke was a contract. Every stroke was composed of smaller strokes. An infinite number of contracts, coiled around his body like filigreed black chains. Restraining Words. Marks of promises made and broken, but none by him. He had fulfilled every single one of those agreements to the letter. The Words were marks of his integrity. It was the others who had failed him, every time. 

But that did not matter. The Nomad ‘Ayn would continue his work. To bind others, to fulfill his contract, and, if betrayed, to exact the agreed punishment on the breakers of faith. It was his raison d'être. He had been thus for eons. He would be thus until his end. 

...But his line of work was under threat, and the key to saving it lay in this perfectly ordinary world.

What delectable irony. 

So musing, the god - for he could be nothing else - stirred from his reverie. He thrust his arms outwards. The Words responded, leaping out to pool around his fingertips like suspended ink. He raised his hand and pointed an unruffled finger at the planet below him.

The Words melted. Like a striking snake, they shot down towards the Earth at the speed of light, coiling to create a liquid cord of barbed ink. The planet's atmosphere was reached in a heartbeat. It would take another nanosecond to actualise his Concept. Binding the entire planet should have been trivial.

As expected, there was nothing of the sort. The thousand-mile chain, anchored to reality by dust and electrons and quarks and neutrinos, reached the exosphere of the Singular World and simply stopped. It was not a forceful resistance. It was a void. 

He could have no effect on the planet. He was not allowed to exist there. None of them were. Nothing from another universe could touch anything on this Earth. 

It was extraordinary. Nothing like it had ever been seen. A phenomenon forbidding interference from extra-dimensional forces on a planetary scale. Not a force. Forces could be overpowered. So far, all the experiments of his brethren had failed. No, it was not a power but a Status, an axiom imposing itself on all of reality. This unlikely planet was the only true Singularity in the Multiverse.

 And yet no-one knew why. There had been theories in the distant past by enlightened members of his race. But that had been purely hypothetical, and he had never been a intellectual. To him, and to the rest, the Source of the Singularity Status was an enigma.

Enigmas were often more terrifying than the known. If this one could be harnessed or reverse-engineered, it would make its user invincible. It would be terrible, perhaps even more than than that mad one who had hijacked Entropy. The possibilities were endless. 

He had no desire for an invincible entity.  It would be worse than the current annoyance. Others had different ideas. He cared very little for other people’s ideas.

The god looked down at his gold Rolex, noting the time in that one city. He had imitated every detail to the last. He had also calibrated it perfectly.

Eight hours forty-five minutes, post-meridian. 

His Host would be ready, then. For months he had deliberated, choosing the right mortal from thousands.

‘Ayn closed his eyes. A raw pulse shook his body. Wisps of smoke began to curl from his suit. His essence was being changed. The form he had had for eons was becoming something alien. In any other situation, it would have been suicide.

It was a simple task, in theory. If he changed his existence into a form similar to the soul of a specific human, he could latch onto that person's essence and become one. The Singularity Status would be subverted by way of a protective suit of mortal flesh. 

But Celestials were not lesser beings. To change into such a primitive form was the human equivalent of shoving oneself, feet-first, into a meat grinder. And the Status would apply itself to him. He would lose his very sentience for a moment. It was a horrifying task. But he was not daunted. He had never allowed himself to be daunted. 

His real suit was unravelling, his skin bursting with fissures of white light. He ignored the pain and kept going. Yielding for a moment to the nerve-wracking agony, he allowed his brow to crease slightly.

It was another deal, a calculated bet between himself and the Singular World. 

He hurtled down. He was white light, a vague humanoid outlined in radiance that peeled away like sloughing skin. Teetering on the brink of mindlessness, desperately clinging to life - 

He passed through the atmosphere, and the alienness closed in on him like an iron maiden. 

He was not meant to be here.

Consciousness fading.

He fell towards the target continent. 

He was losing himself. 

He was not meant to be here.

He was losing

He fell towards the target country.

He was not      to be here     not meant   o   e  he e to be n t t  be n  not not not not

He fell into the target city, fell through the roof of the target building, and just as the last dregs of sentience left him

reached the target

---

  Divine Singularity
A Chronicles of the Gods RP

---

St. Claire
Flat 85
Fenton Villa
09 Baker Street
8:40 P.M.

If he went from the old Central District down to the great conglomerate of malls in the new heart of the city, it would take him ten minutes. If he moved east from there and skipped all the apartments and various degrees of park-laden urban sprawl in his way, reaching the neighborhood of Baker Street would take him another twenty minutes. By car.

He didn't have a car and he hated buses, so he got by without the malls unless he caught a ride. But that only happened when his friends were out, so he didn't bother. It was working out fine. He was at the mercy of the local supermarket, but he doubted instant ramen would be going up in price any time soon. 

The Chinese store down the road was cheaper, but it was Chinese. 

It was Saturday, grocery day.

Holding the week's food in one hand and calculating his remaining allowance with the other, Jeremy Zhang stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for floor 8.  

On the surface, Fenton Villa was just another apartment building among dozens, desperately trying for new tenants with a thin veneer of class and a pretentious name. On the inside, it was just that. The shoddy velvet and flaking gold handrail in its sole working elevator was just one clue. The fact that the whole complex was an unspeakable shade of purple was another. The contractors obviously had a disturbing disregard for the Geneva Conventions. 

He never looked at the thing too long. He might lose an eye.

There was the chime for Floor 8. He stepped out, turned left and set out towards Flat 85. The contractors seemed to have given up halfway through. The corridor was plain concrete and the doors plain white. It was almost a relief after the elevator, which was rather sad.

The boy was Chinese, looking around 17 or 18. He had a pale, unimpressive frame and was middling in height. He had clearly spent a vast amount of his life indoors. The loose white T-shirt, beige shorts and brown sandals gave no impression in particular. Unathleticism aside, he was kind of good-looking - nothing spectacular, but not run-of-the-mill, either. He would have been noticed more if he hadn't tried so hard not to stand out at all. He wasn't introverted or nerdy. He was just your average American kid. He intended to stay that way.

Jeremy wrestled the keys from his pocket and opened the door. He walked in, shut the door and locked it. The sandals he left outside, as per usual. 

He switched on the lights. The living room was more family-sized than he cared for. He had scrounged most of the furniture. There was an old white sofa, of the spongy, man-engulfing variety, with several springs clearly loose. There was an old CRT TV. There was a bookcase, with various textbooks and no leisure reading. There was a large desk, with a large lamp and various pens strewn across it. There was the kitchen in the back, and a kettle. There was his bedroom, with a bed. The walls were bare. 

The rest of the rooms went unused because he had nothing to put in them. All in all, it was depressingly empty, and far too big for an unattached student.

His mother had arranged it for him in two days. It never popped into his head to complain. 

Walking to the kitchen, Jeremy put his groceries on the kitchen bar. The lights flickered. He looked up, frowning. Did he have to replace them again? 

The lights flickered again. 

"Damn." Seemed like it.

Sighing, the boy began unpacking his chicken-flavored dinner. He would go down to the shops tomorrow. Maybe Peter could give him a rid-  

There was a muffled thud, like something very soft and very dense had hit him in the chest and sunk right through. His body froze up. His mind exploded. He hardly had time to cry out. 

Eyes rolling into the back of his head, Jeremy Zhang keeled over. He was dead before he hit the floor.

---

It burst through St. Claire like a bomb. Lights all across the city dimmed for a moment, leaving the inhabitants dazed but otherwise unharmed. They would later explain it as a brief, inexplicable power outage. 

But it was a message, audible only to very specific ears. The location, Flat 85 of Fenton Villa, 09 Baker Street, had already been given beforehand. The voice was unmistakable. Confident, sweet as honey, elegant like nothing else.  

Midgard. I have arrived. To me, if you would. 

No matter their affiliation, the Incarnates would hear. It was a sign. A barefaced invitation.  

The Game had begun.

edited 29th Aug '13 3:43:24 AM by troydenite

'Being around you guys makes me go "wtf" instead of pondering the ever increasing dread of time' - EchoingSilence, 2023

Chikara Possession

In the dark shadows of the Singularly a cloaked entity hiding in his own black hole looked down upon the land. This was the land he had heard a rumor about, that no celestial power could affect it because of the immense power of the Singularly within. Such power...

He tried but tunneling into the land with his gravity control had proved ineffective as the rumors had said. He pondered it for some time floating there and waiting, until he'd seen other Nomads approach the isolated space. They pondered it too for a time, but as he watched to see what they would do they finally came up with something. The entity compressed themselves to next to nothing and passed into the world.

Surely it couldn't be that simple? Chikara considered doing it as well, when another entity moved into the area and did the same thing. It would seem that the process worked, but none had yet come back. This opportunity had to be taken, other Nomads had powers that have made it next to impossible to overpower them. If he could go into this place and absorb its power, he would be able to gain ultimate power.

So he had to replicate the process that others had done. Well, he knows a few things about hacking into himself. Chikara started a process of compressing his body and soul into a single binary file. When he was nothing more than a single data stream, he started trying to push himself into the Singularity.

He penetrated the edge of the world and pushed himself in. It seemed to be working for a moment, until he realized that his data was being attacked on all sides. The space of this area was trying to destroy him. Chikara repaired his data as he moved through the hostile area, but as he moved he accumulated more and more damage. Chikara tried to expand slightly only have that piece of his program lopped off. He had to find somewhere to rest or retreat.

He pushed down into the world, to see many organic creatures, which took a moment for him to identify as human. Could he push himself into one of the lesser beings already a part of the world to hide himself?

Chikara forced himself to move away from the large number of humans around him, he had to find an isolated one to go unnoticed. He found one asleep, and flowed into the body slowly. Attached to this human's data, he could mask himself from the hostile space.

Part 2, The Arrangement

The hero rose his shield and revealed it. The blue orb in the middle blazed brightly, reacting to the God and King in front of it. The divinity froze as he saw the orb, and the hero pushed his arm forward and stabbed his eye socket where the eye was misssing already burned away. "Care for another Refill?"

"One to go please, and the check." Matthew was sitting quietly in the early hours of the morning re-reading one of his favorite books as usual after a late night. He paid his bill, smiling at the waitress. She was an older lady that was used to seeing him here at this time and was familiar with his order. Two eggs over easy, two sausages, hash browns, and a short stack of blueberry pancakes with coffee. Matthew went home, checked his messages and email, then fell onto his bed and fell asleep.

Matthew woke up to a tingling sensation all of his body. It lasted about a half a minute, then transitioned to a sharp pain everywhere. He gasped as the pain started, but otherwise couldn't make a sound. After what seemed like forever, the pain and sensations subsided and he gasped again for air as he'd been holding his breath unconciously, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that?" Then a glow under his blanket prompted him to move it, revealing a mark that had drawn itself onto his chest. "I.. what is going on?"

After a few minutes of confusion and wild theories, a voice came into his head. "Human, you are now possessed by the Nomad Chikara. From here on out you will do what I say when I need you to." "What? Who said that?" Matthew looked around but saw nothing in his room. "Am I dreaming now?" The young man put 2 and 2 together to make 3, and tried to control the environment with his will. But nothing happened. Matt has lucid dreamed before and knew how it felt. "No, I don't think so." Despite exploring the possibilities, the voice did not come again so Matthew shrugged it off and went back to sleep forgetting it for the moment.

In the morning when he took a shower he noticed the mark again and remembered what had happened the night before. He tried to wash it off, but it only resulted in making his skin a little red. "There has to be some explanation for this.." He dismissed the fantastic ideas at first, but then pulled out his notebook and started writing them down. This was good stuff to use in a video game some time.

A few days later when Matthew was alone in his apartment about to play a video game, the voice came back. "You will get used to the idea of being my puppet. In exchange, you will gain more power that you thought possible in his mundane world" "...So I'm going crazy" "This is all quite real and I'll show it to you, Human." Chikara focused and pushed power into the human's data from his own. He had long considered what he could try here, and decided that a pre-Nomad's powers would be appropriate to a pre-Nomad. So he pushed his original image into Matthew. Blue cubes formed on parts of his body starting with his feet and quickly working up his body, covering the hands when they were at the same horizontal level, and going up to the head. Matthew's body changed into the likeness of Bass.EXE with his black armor with orange highlights. However, instead of an emblem with a scar, he had an emblem with Chikara's symbol, the same mark on Matthew's chest.

Matthew looked down and saw his new body. "Wh.. what? Am I some kind of superhero now?" "If you want to think of it that way. You can dismiss and assume this form at will. But I suggest you keep it secret from other humans. Chikara's tone made it clear that the suggestion was not a suggestion. Matthew went over to a mirror to see his face under a large finned helmet. He stared at it for a minute, then thought that he mine as well go along with things. If he is crazy he mine as well enjoy it. Matthew explored his body and found that his hands could turn into cannons at will. He immediately regretting shooting three shots into his wall though, which left a sizable hole. Fortunately the loud sounds would be dismissed by his neighbors as he plays a lot of video games loudly anyway. "Woah. So what am I supposed to do with this?" However Chikara let the human work things out on his own and focused on studying this place and repairing himself. So Matthew was left to his own devices for a few days, in which time he confirmed that the form was real and not just a dream.

edited 5th Sep '13 10:44:20 PM by StephanReiken

Yod's choice was not as difficult as any other's. After all, an entire profession was made out of his domain. He merely had to observe the local hospitals for a short period, and choose which medical professional best suited his needs.
The tall dark Nomad wondered for a moment, whether he could seen by the humans against the inky blackness of space, before dismissing it. The night sky was huge, the chances were slim. Space was not his subject of choice, but he had learned much in his several millennia of existence.
He observed his chosen host, a young female doctor, returning home from several hours of frantic work in the hospital's Accident and Emergency department. She showed intelligence and promise, and had not gained cynicism as some of her colleagues had.
However, Fate had decided otherwise. Stalking behind the young Doctor was a hooded man, knife drawn, and murder in his eyes.
—
To quote another killer, tonight was the night. It had been a week, a week of traveling from town to town, just to reach the next city, just to reach the next place it would be safe to kill again.
According to the FBI, at any one time, there are 200 serial killers active in the United States. Johnathan wasn't one of them. He was spread out over the several thousand unsolved murders that were deemed "mugging gone wrong". Tonight would add another to the list, if he could help it. The hood went up and the knife came out, as he began to close the gap between himself and his victim.
—
Yod had barely any time to make a decision. In under thirty seconds, his chosen host would be dead. Attempting to possess her now would leave her vulnerable to attack by the man who was after her.
An idea sprung to mind. [[blue: Yod could save the young woman's life, incapacitating her attacker by possessing the attacker. His decision made, he began the process of changing himself, enough to fool the Status. He hoped he was fast enough.

Johnathan Wesson fell to the ground silently, his intended victim not even noticing the muffled thud of his corpse through her headphones.

They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!

Christine Richter sat in her room, gazing out of the small window. It was raining heavily, and thunder was roaring in the distance. She spared her surroundings little thought. The plain and simple girl's room, the storm outside...it was in no way important considering what was to happen. Today, she would be taken by the God she had spoken to.

Still, she was unsure about the God's existence. Despite their conversations, she had no real proof. But she was quite sure she was not insane.

Are you ready, Christine?

He had tried to explain the procedure to her, but he had seemed unsure himself. There were only two things he was sure of. Christine would die. And then wake up with him inside of her head.

It was a curious concept, and one that she'd spent many sleepless nights on considering. The God had given her plenty of time to think. Said he did not want to force her.

In the end, she had agreed. And tonight would be the day.

I ask you again, are you sure?

Had she lost her mind? She asked herself for what was probably the fiftieth time since she'd stated her agreement. Christine had debated fiercely with herself, weighing arguments for and against whether or not the God was real, whether or not the God was to be trusted and if she should refuse him.

But she never could dissuade herself, no matter what arguments she found. All Christine wanted was answers and knowledge. So much that she was willing to sacrifice her humanity. And the God would help her. She nodded.

Then, I will begin.

It came suddenly. His last words had just echoed in her mind when lightning struck a building outside, illuminating the are. In an instant that lasted shorter than the flash of lightning, her life was drained out of her body, her mind going blank. She did not even have the time to think about what would happen if she did not wake up.

In the blink of an eye, Christine Richter died.

---

Sitting on the roof of her dorm-house, Christine caught herself thinking back to the night of her death. She could sense that Pi had left her to it. Her thoughts were always her own. He could read her like an open book, with all her thoughts on display for him, but he left her in peace. And so, she could sit like this, at peace, letting her mind wander as she waited for the stars to appear in the sky.

It was in this quiet moment that Christine heard a voice, as if it was carried on the wind. A faint sensation along their mental link alerted Christine to Pi's stirring.

Christine, we need to leave.

Christine rose, taking her purse. They had been waiting for this moment. An unsolved mystery was waiting for them, a riddle that had occupied Christine's mind since that stormy night in Germany.

"Then let's go."

Join us in our quest to play all RPG video games! Moving on to disc 2 of Grandia!

The munching of popcorn could be heard in a shabby apartment. The only light was the glow of the TV. Mr. Sanichigo was watching the news. Something he'd never do on any other day. But, something was intriguing him to watch. He wanted to see his work bear fruit. His newly gained powers be realized. He waited for when the news reporter would sing of his work. He smiled when that became a reality as the bottom banner changed from "Local fire department save dozen of stray kittens" to "Principal found dead in office".

"In tragic news, Ralph Fiennes High School principal, Mr. Mario Neeson, was found dead in his own office, holding a bottle of pills at exactly 7:01 AM today. School was canceled as police gathered the evidence. Although not much is being said, police are split over if this was a suicide or if foul play is afoot." The newscaster said. Mr. Sanichigo laughed as he slipped more popcorn into his mouth.

"This is amazing! I can't believe I can do this now!" Mr. Sanichigo said.

"You can do many things now that you're bonded to me... but, I wish to keep you with just the ability to alter text. See how you enjoy that. Time will tell if I will let you touch my finer skills." A voice rang in his head. It was the Nomad of Miscommunication: Phi. Why he was here was very different from the other Nomads' reasoning. He wasn't here for some singularity, though its presence is why he's in the skin of Mr. Sanichigo outside of "he was fun". He remembered how he first met him.

---

Mr. Sanichigo entered his beloved gym. However, instead of encountering crying kids who broke their legs because they couldn't jump high enough, he saw three thugs in tuxedos. The center one wore a white tuxedo to contrast the two black ones, though he kept the consistent color in the form of a black bowler hat. He was one of those Significant Green Eyed Redheads.

"Mr. Sanichigo, is it?" He asked Mr. Sanichigo.

"Y-yes?" Mr. Sanichigo said.

"Good." He snapped his fingers. The two mobsters got out Tommy Guns and unloaded their magazine into Mr. Sanichigo. Ratatatatatatatatatata went the guns for a good two minutes. They didn't stop when there was enough blood to give to the blood bank. They didn't even stop when he hit the ground. They kept on going until the clicking sounds told them to relax their trigger finger.

Mr. Sanichigo only saw a white light, though it was out dimmed by a red one.

"Mr. Sanichigo, it doesn't have to end like this. If you will it, I can be able to give you a second chance at life. You're a likeable person from what I've seen of you, and you'd be amazing if you accept my offer..." A voice said. Mr. Sanichigo nodded almost the instant he was told he could have a second chance. Once the voice finished, the redness increased as new life was breathed into Mr. Sanichigo. "Play dead. Wait till they leave... Or... Mess with their head. I shall give you only one of my skills right now... Though it depends on if they hold anything electronic..." Mr. Sanichigo's eyes opened as he saw the redhead get a text from his phone. "Bingo. Close your eyes and look at the phone... What do you see?" Phi asked Mr. Sanichigo.

"I... I see..." He read the text.

"What? My own principal had them kill me?" Mr. Sanichigo asked.

"Seems like it... But... you can commit payback. Think about anything you want the text to say. Something that could piss them off. Like..." Phi said.

"I know..." Mr. Sanichigo said. Soon, the words changed.

"SON OF A BITCH!" The gangster said, throwing his phone down to the ground and shattering it into three pieces that could easily be put back together. "Men, new hit: Mr. Mario Neeson!" He said, leaving the gym with the other two in tow.

"Excellent thinking... Wait a bit for them to leave, then get up and go. Wherever you go, I'll follow." Phi said. From that moment on, the two of them became partners in crime.

A gray-haired man in a freshly pressed blue suit stood in the middle of a dingy kitchen, slicing up fruit to put inside a bowl, which was currently being filled with whipped cream by a lady wearing a violet suit, both of them silent as the grave. The lights flickered on and off, and the two continued to do their jobs, even after the man accidentally cut his finger with the knife. He simply moved on, ignoring the cut, slicing one fruit after the other. After he finished, he just dropped them inside of the bowl, which was then taken by the woman into an even dirtier living room, where, sitting on a couch upside down was a young-looking man, blond hair waving back and forth thanks to the breeze that had come through the open window.

The young man flipped between channels, staring at an upside down television, until the woman placed the bowl besides him. He stuck his finger in, pulled it out and licked the cream of it. "Good work!" He said. "Go do more." And it was in that moment, that the room was filled with a bright pink light for a fraction of a second: for there were endless scrolls coming out of the young man's back, scrolls that flew through the air and wrapped themselves around the faces of the old man and woman. There were many, intelligible words written on the scrolls, and they glowed pink just before the two went back to the kitchen.

Ismael smiled, sticking his hand inside the bowl to grab a few slices of whatever fruit his little puppet had put in there. A few weeks ago, he was an old man, working on an office, living a boring, stupid life that he believed was the life he deserved. Now, he was much younger and much more beautiful, for he had become the vessel... the vessel of a God. Eme, was what the God called himself. And he offered him a gift, a gift he could use to control people, a gift he could use to change his life.

He was an attractive young man once more, like the ones you'd see in television shows aimed at teenagers, and his body had become a machine, a machine constantly producing pheromones. And, as Eme taught him, he could either let these pheromones come out of his body through sweat or saliva (which would lead to many awkward situations) or he could use those pheromones to control people. By feeding them a bit of the pheromone here and there, he could essentially turn them into addicts, and watch as they ignored any kind of pain to do what he wanted, just for another fix of the chemicals he produced.

This was the life. He had never had so much fun before. And yet, he wanted... more. He knew that Eme could do so much more- he was a God, after all, and you kinda expect Gods to do more than just produce pheromones. He wanted more of that power, he wanted... he wanted all that a man could want. And to think that weeks ago, he was just another brick in the wall, content in working from nine to five, reading his stupid novels. Hah. Bullshit. He lived the real life now. Party after party after party, always being protected by his two bodyguards- some dick he met at work and his secretary. It was like being young again, except this time he wasn't hopelessly chasing some random girl who would never even talk to him.

"Ismael."

He looked up, spotting the old, bearded man that was Eme behind the couch, staring down at him with his hands hidden inside his white robes. "Yeah." Ismael said, going back to the TV. "The hell do you want, old man?" He wasn't interested in Eme. As far as he cared, the God was just a hopeless old cook, like he once was, except that he actually became an old cook after living the real life, the life Ismael was living now. Hopeless case. Still... Ismael knew that the real Eme was still there, deep inside that husk of a God. He just needed to pull him out, and they'd gain so much more from their relationship.

"We must get moving. It's... it's about to begin."

Ismael looked up once more, grinning. "Seriously? Finally!" He said, lifting himself up with one hand, throwing himself into the air with the other and landing on his two feet. "I've been itching for some action. HEY!" He yelled out to his bodyguards. "Let's go! The fun is about to begin! Lead the way, old man." He said, stretching his arms as the old man and woman walked out of the kitchen, staring aimlessly at the air.

Eme sighed, looking down at what Ismael had become. This... brat had once been someone who believed in the same things Eme believed. True, real love, free from the obstacles created by Pleasure. But his presence, his powers had corrupted him. Turned him into that thing. Still... Eme knew that the real Ismael was still there, deep inside that husk of a man. He just needed to pull him out, and they'd gain so much more from their relationship. "Very well. Follow me." He muttered, and with that, the two were off, ready to meet with their allies...

Hachiko Shizaru looked through his binoculars, hiding in the darkness provided by a makeshift cover, standing on top of a building still in construction. With one foot on top of the ledge, he peered into the street below, one hand holding the binoculars and another one writing down what he saw. A garbage truck. Two workers, one big and burly, laughing about something, the other holding onto the back of the truck, taking a look in. A couple walked past them. The lights were still on in various buildings, indicating possible witnesses. All he had to do was move in at 8:53 and he could get a blind sp—

"Do you think I could jump from here?"

Hachiko groaned, lowering his binoculars to look at the black-haired kid leering over the edge. "Yes. And it will hurt." He responded, a thought which caused the kid to raise one foot and place it over the edge, an act that didn't gather Hachiko's attention at all. "I know you won't do it." He said, writing down the shape of the garbage truck as it made another stop in the same street.

"How do you know?" The kid asked, taking a step back and crouching down, looking at the garbage truck with an uninterested expression.

"You never do, Alef." Hachiko answered, turning the page on his notepad as he wrote down info about the couple's line of sight.

"I think I'm going to do it today." Alef said, standing up and taking various steps back, looking like he was ready to jump.

"Even if you do, like you told me, you're just a projection of yourself. If you jump, nothing's really going to happen." Hachiko said, dropping the binoculars for a moment. Alef simply shrugged, sat down, and started to scribble on the concrete like it was sand. Hachiko continued to scribble, eventually deciding on what the blind spot was. Alef had mentioned a meeting of some sorts, and he wanted to get there as fast as possible to avoid any possible chance encounters. Didn't want to ruin his plans...

And the land was naught but Chaos and darkness above a chasm and the Spirit of God hovering above the waters -Genesis 1:2

Many races' beliefs included the fact that before there was anything, Chaos was there. In a sense, they were right. One person — inasmuch a representation of a Concept could be called one — was very, very old. He was also Chaos Incarnate. His name — the name he took for himself — was Sigma. At the very beginning, he watched and was content. But then Order began to appear in his universe, he began to feel suffocated... caged.
So he decided to travel. And travel he did; ever outwards he travelled, from the deep darkness of unformed universes to the flickering lights of various civilisations. Then... the war came. News of the conflict — the battle between those who advocated staying behind in their ancestral home and those who thought it is best to migrate — caught Sigma by surprise. Ever the chaotic one, he decided the Loyalists — by the time he heard about the War they had a name, always a bad sign — were worthy of such help he was capable of rendering.
And so he fought, for a while revelling in the battlefield's chaos. Then some bright Nomad — they, too, had a name by that time — decided to weaken the Loyalist forces by enticing Sigma away. Of course, that didn't quite go as planned; instead of betraying the Loyalists for the Nomads, Sigma chose to just wander off.
So he teleported away, and for a while he was again content, revelling in the new sights the Multiverse offered. But after a long while, he was invited by his brother into an event the green-and-red Nomad (for that is what he effectively became, even though he did not care for the other Nomads much) would rather not remember; even he, the incarnation of chaos, found Omega's plans too far-reaching. So, instead of doing the logical thing and staying behind to fight, he ran away again.
When he did, he chanced upon a universe that was unlike any other he had seen in his long travels. It was empty, save for one insignificant planet. His curiosity piqued, Sigma tried to affect the planet, to change into something else... to no avail. Frustrated, he invested an ever-growing amount of power into affecting it, without any result.
It was then that he heard that other Nomads were interested in that phenomenon. One name stood out. 'Ayn. Sigma's blood boiled when he thought about the Nomad of Contracts. Contracts. Such a Concept reeked of Order, of stagnation...
So Sigma decided he'd destroy the phenomenon, wishing to ensure it will never be used by the narrow-minded likes of 'Ayn to promote Order in the Multiverse.
Still, there was the problem of actually affecting the damn thing. Sigma, currently in the form of a large, arrow-like bird, circled the planetary system the Singularity was in, trying to figure how he was going to do that... when the idea hit him. Rather than changing the planet, he should himself change.
Beak agape in that form's equivalent of a smile, the Nomad started doing exactly that...

---

Baker Street, 8:30 P.M.

“One, two, three, four, can I have a little more,” the girl sang to herself as she walked down the street, holding a large book in one hand and tapping the song's rhythm on it with the other. “Five, six, seven-eight-nine-ten, I love you.”
For a while she just walked down the street, enjoying the evening breeze and trying to ignore the constant buzz of voices in her head. When she first started hearing them — after being miraculously resurrected — she thought she was quite mad. Now, though, she knew it was the voice of a... person, thing, concept, she wasn't sure, that was quite the chaotic being.
Er'el! the voices became focussed all of a sudden, and Er'el (such was the girl's name) stopped in her tracks.
What?! she “asked” back, annoyed.
The Singularity, it is calling... the voices replied.
Er'el opened her metaphorical mouth to tell the entity to shut up, but then there was this... not-quite-flash, and she was pretty sure she heard something. Looking around, she saw bedazzled people everywhere. Sigma... did you hear that? she asked.
Quite, the entity replied. and I know who it is. 'Ayn...
Er'el shook her head. Isn't that that guy you hate?
Follow the message, Sigma dictated, ignoring her question. It is time...

edited 31st Aug '13 3:44:59 AM by desdendelle

The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground

St. Claire
Room 610
Lakeview Apartments
Distaff Avenue
5:32 PM

The name Lakeview Apartments was a bit of a misnomer. Certainly, the old building had once enjoyed a prestigious and scenic view of St. Claire’s famous Lake Tranquility; in those days, it had been a famous hotel rather than an apartment complex. But that had been a long time ago. In the decades since, urban developments had sprung up like weeds grasping for the sun, obstructing any view of Lake Tranquility; even from the penthouse suites, only a tiny sliver of the lake’s blue crescent could be seen over the roofs of adjacent buildings.

Recognizing the problems this presented, the original owners of Lakeview Hotel had sold the place off to a housing firm; those men quickly refurbished the place, renamed it, and turned it into what it was now. It offered comfortable rooms at reasonable rates, making it an ideal place for those living on their own who didn’t have enough money to afford a house to reside.

It was in one such room that one such person found herself one crisp Sunday evening in fall. Sitting at her kitchen table, pen in hand and a stack of papers laid out before her, Marina Cruces prepared herself for the coming week. Her work clothes had been laid out in advance for tomorrow morning, ironed and ready; she herself was wearing a simple black turtleneck and a pair of jeans, casual clothes that probably would have thrown her students for a loop.

The thought brought a smile to her face as she worked. Those kids… So young, so full of energy, and eager to learn; you just had to engage them the right way. Other members of the SCHS faculty found it difficult to work with them, but in her opinion that’s because her coworkers weren’t taking the time to get to know their students like she was. Rote memorization wasn’t enough; you had to get them to care about the material if you wanted them to remember it and really learn it.

Marina.

Blinking, the young woman looked up from the essays she had been grading and cocked her head to one side. Her eyes, pale brown and limned with the light reflecting off the lenses of her glasses, were focused on nothing in particular; had an observer been present, it might have seemed to them that she was straining to catch a sound only she could hear.

And that was entirely true, as far as it went. The word still echoed within the confines of her skull, the voice which had uttered it low, dry and cold; it reminded her, as it did every time she heard it, of the bitter chill of a dry winter’s wind.

Marina Cruces, it said again, insistently now.

Her brows drew together, and she straightened up. “I heard you the first time,” she said to the empty air. Had she been out in public, Marina wouldn’t have answered the voice in her head out loud like this; it would have raised too many questions, questions she definitely didn’t need to deal with. Normally she simply ‘thought’ her responses at it. But here, in the privacy of her own apartment, there was no need for secrecy. And besides, there was something about actually voicing her half of the conversation aloud that was refreshingly normal.

At that thought, the twenty-six year old English teacher let out a laugh. Normal… right. Like there was anything about this whole situation that could be called normal. Her life hadn’t been ‘normal’ for the last two months; as far as she knew, it might never be normal again.

Marina, this is a matter of some urgency.

Sighing, she put her pen down and pushed aside her students’ papers. Obviously she wouldn’t be finishing these tonight. “Alright,” she said. “What is it, Tet?”

We must meet with the others, the voice replied. The situation threatens to become much more complicated… and dangerous.

She frowned. That didn’t sound good at all. “Okay, let me get my coat.”

---

Distaff Avenue
5:45 PM

In the mouth of one of the many alleyways that crisscross the urban center of St. Claire, a vagrant sits. Shivering in the cold, he shrinks down on himself in an effort to keep warm, gnawing fitfully at the hotdog clutched in his dirty hands. This is all the food he has at the moment, and he wants to make it last; he’s not interested in going out to scrounge around for more right now, not in the fall chill, not with winter right around the corner.

The voice speaks in his head, making him wince. Her words are like the droning buzz of flies and mosquitos, mixed with the yawning wet groan of rotted trees collapsing and the shrill sound of metal nails scraping across steel sheets. Vessel, look to the left.

He obeys instantly and without question, his hunger and meal all but forgotten. To his left is a street whose name he feels he should know; it escapes him at the moment, much as everything else does. The street is busy, not as much as it often gets during rush hour perhaps, but still packed with cars and trucks going up and down the road; beyond them, pedestrians walk both ways along the sidewalk before a series of apartment buildings, shops, and other establishments.

He frowns ever so slightly, not entirely sure what he’s meant to be looking at.

The voice lets out a croaking death rattle—her version of a sigh. Useless…

She descends over his mind like an oppressive weight, and suddenly his body is no longer his own to control; his eyes move of their own accord, focusing on a woman dressed in a black coat, with glasses and straight black hair. She has just come out of one of the apartments and is walking down the street at a brisk pace. Looks like she’s going somewhere in a hurry…

You recognize who that is?

He blinks, slowly. The girl does seem familiar, but he’s not sure from—wait.

“Another… Host?” His voice is reedy and soft, like he hasn’t used his vocal chords in a long time.

Exactly. More to the point, she’s a teacher if I’m not mistaken—and if she’s going somewhere at this time of day, on this day of the week, I’m more than willing to bet that it’s at her Possessor’s request.

He frowns. “Then… they’re up to something…?”

Yes.

“What?”

Well, that’s what we want to find out, don’t we? The voice lets out a chuckle, and he shudders. He can feel her curiosity, her eagerness; the emotions make him uncomfortable, for reasons he can’t quite put his finger on. Well, no use sitting around and speculating. Follow her.

He gets to his feet, leaves the alleyway and begins to make his way down the street. His legs move of their own volition, putting one foot in front of the other at a steady, mechanical pace; her will drives him, and he could not stop walking if he wanted to.

The hotdog is left behind, half-eaten, to rot.

---

Marina made her way through the winding streets of St. Claire the usual way—public transit. Catching the 720 bus at the corner of Distaff and Vertex, she began her lengthy voyage across the city, alternating from bus to subway and back again. By the time her journey was complete, more than two hours had passed and she had travelled from one end of St. Claire to the other.

There had been no need to consult online schedules. This was a route she had travelled more than once over the past few months—and as he had done on each of those occasions, Tet had been whispering directions into her mind all the while. Sometimes it paid to have a voice in your head…

Now it was almost half past eight, and she was at the docks. At this time of night, not a good place for a pretty young woman like herself to be—but then, she was no ordinary woman. Not anymore.

She made her way to an abandoned warehouse. There was little special about this rusting old structure; many others like it filled the dock road on either side. Once goods had been stored here, when this part of the docks had been thriving; but newer, more efficient docking facilities had been built further up the shoreline, and so these particular facilities had been left to rot. Nobody came here anymore, needless to say.

It was the perfect place for a clandestine meeting.

The chain-link fence had a padlock on it, she saw; simple enough to deal with. Marina pressed a finger to the lock’s cool surface, let out a breath, and concentrated.

Moisture condensed within the lock’s slit, moulding to the shape of the tumblers as it hardened and precipitated. In less than a second, she had created a key made of ice perfectly fitted to the lock. A simple twist, and the lock opened with a click; and without a word, she pushed open the gate and went inside.

Mere moments later, a shadowy form steals across the grounds of the warehouse, scurrying silently to the side of the building where it begins to scramble up a ladder.

It takes him a few minutes to make the climb; even with her will driving him, the vagrant can only ascend so quickly. Midway up, he feels a sudden surge and hears a voice—a man’s voice this time, confident and distant. He hears the words it says and pauses, the ghost of a frown taking shape.

“Midgard…” he mutters. “Isn’t that—”

Her voice slashes into him like a knife, derailing his train of thought. Ignore him. ‘Ayn and the rest will keep; I want to see where this goes.

Arriving on the roof, the Vessel of Samekh skulks towards a dusty skylight and peers in. He can see her reflection in the glass where his own should be—a bald, unnaturally smooth head with skin an acidic shade of green. There are no eyes, nose or brows on this face, just a thick, black symbol like a tri-barred letter I; but there is a mouth, and its broad, thick lips are peeled back to reveal sparklingly white teeth.

He shudders. She’s smiling.

This should be interesting…

---

The main floor of the warehouse was largely deserted. Old shipping crates lie here and there, stacked haphazardly throughout the vast space; many, Marina saw, had been broken open at some point, their contents removed. Others had ragged holes in their sides, as though rats had chewed their way in. whatever these boxes used to contain, it had been gone for a long time.

The teacher made her way to the center of the floor and stopped, her footsteps echoing in the gloom. She cocked her head as a voice reached her ears, a voice from faraway that was like Tet’s, yet different. “Who was that?”

Another complication, was the Nomad’s curt reply. But he will be dealt with eventually. A pause; when next he spoke, Tet’s tone softened ever so slightly. Let us begin; it is time.

Nodding, Marina closed her eyes and held her right arm straight out. A breath gusted from her lips, heated and visible, the temperature of the warehouse suddenly dropping as she drew upon the power that was now hers to command.

Hoarfrost began to spread across the walls and crates as a pillar of ice congealed from thin air before her, building itself up from the ground like a stalagmite being formed in time-lapse photography. Within its depths a cavity took shape, cylindrical and narrow with a wide space at the top.

Slowly and solemnly, she pressed her fingertips to the pillar’s surface. Jagged cracks spread through the ice like wildfire at her touch, and with a sudden crashing roar the icicle shattered. Its pieces fell away, revealing a simple wooden staff of the kind carried by Buddhist monks; several rings dangled from its heavy metal head, which was subtly wrought in the shape of a circle crossed through with an X.

She wrapped her fingers around the shaft. It was bitingly cold to the touch, but she did not feel it. Opening her eyes, the young woman carefully raised the staff and brought it down, butt first, on the cold stone floor.

A low, resonant note like the tolling of a temple bell rang out, shaking the warehouse to its foundations as it echoed across the city. All throughout St. Claire, windows rattled, telephone lines rustled and lights flickered. To the mundane inhabitants of this metropolis, it seemed like little more than a power flutter caused by an unusually strong wind; not one spoke of the bell’s tolling, for not one had actually been able to hear it.

But some of the people scattered throughout St. Claire could. And of them, only a handful would be able to properly interpret that resonant note, understand what it signified.

It was a summons. The bell tolled for Nirvana, calling them to its source.

The Danse Macabre Codex

Eme looked up at the skies, diverting his attention from his vessel, who was currently busy watching his two servants acting as bodyguards during their bus trip. The bus was mostly empty, a stroke of luck, but the driver was clearly glancing at the shirtless man every chance he got, and at the middle-aged man and woman in front of him. For the civillians, the normals, all they saw were people with vacant stares. For the ones in the middle of this game of gods, they'd see the connection between Ismael and his puppets.

Glaring at the driver, Ismael leaned back on the seat, resting his feet on the seat in front of him. "Damn. Could really go for a massage. Or two." He looked over at the woman, who promptly responded with sitting by his side and massaging his feet. "There. That's good. Happy to see this girl has some use. I've worked with her for twenty five years, and all that I've seen her do is take calls and write down messages. Isn't that right?" He smiled and caressed the woman's chin, who ignored the motion and continued doing what she was ordered to do.

"The bell."

"The what?" Ismael said, scratching his hair. "Oh. That. Thought was just some crazy cook banging his head against the church bell."

"It calls for us. For Nirvana. Stop the bus!"

Eme suddenly raised his hand, and for a moment, Ismael did the same, slapping it against the button used to ask the driver to stop. The bus screeched to a halt, and Ismael got down, massaging his wrist. "Don't do that again." He growled at Eme, while the old Nomad simply watched him wander down the docks and towards the warehouse. "I hate it when you do that. Got it?"

"The meeting. Go. We cannot be late."

Mumbling to himself, Ismael walked towards the abandoned warehouse, his two servants quietly following him.

The Hosts would feel another message flying through St. Claire, this one comprised of a single name. Avalon. The faction made out of Nomads bent on using the power held by the Singularity to eliminate Omega from the map were under someone else's leadership. But since that someone had been absent for quite a while, the group was now under the control of the angel-like Nomad who had just sent out that message.

"Avalon." He repeated, sending out the message again, hoping his comrades would hear it and track it to its source.

"Do we really have to do this here?"

A woman stood besides the angel, covered in coats, scarfs, gloves and beanies, shivering from the cold which came from the strong winds hitting their meeting spot: the rooftop of an industrial skyscraper, a place only helicopters and the occasional smoking co-workers would go to. "Sorry." El said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Couldn't think of a better place."

"When you told me you were taking us somewhere safe, I didn't think it'd be here!" Charlie, El's Host, complained. "Shouldn't have let you taken over me... I would have had the meeting back home!"

"Don't think we can fit all of Avalon's members in there—"

"Shh!" Charlie yelled. "Trying to focus on fighting the cold! No talking until someone gets here!"

---

"There." Hachiko said as he finished writing down his carefully planned path towards Nirvana's meeting place. He walked past the little boy playing with two empty canisters of paint, motioning for him to follow. "Come on, Alef. We've got things to do."

Alef didn't move. Instead, he remained there, sitting on the floor, playing with his toys. Hachiko wanted to just ignore him and keep on moving- again, that little boy was just a projection of the Nomad possessing him- but he didn't know what Alef could do. He remember the boy talking about taking control of his body... and he didn't want to find out if that was true right now, not right before the meeting.

"Can you carry me?"

Alef looked up at Hachiko, who closed his eyes, pinching his temple. "You're an interdimensional god! Can't you just... listen, even if you weren't a god, you're not even here! Why would I..." He opened his eyes just in time to see Alef go back to his toys. "... why would I..." He repeated, trailing off as Alef started scribbling things on the ground. "... I hate myself. Come on."

And so, a man jumped from alley to alley, an invisible little boy clinging to his back as both of them moved towards the abandoned warehouse on the docks...

It was a quiet night in the Schulze home. The father was sitting at his desk, typing up an e-mail on his desktop, a response to something a coworker sent him. The mother was in the living room watching something on the History channel. The daughter was up in her room on the second floor, finishing up her homework. Trigonometry for anyone interested. It wasn't too difficult, but best to finish it now rather than right before it was due. Someone didn't share that sentiment though.

"Girl, in mah many years wanderin' the cosmos I don't evah think I've been as bored as I am now." complained the recent intruder in her life. Grace let out a sigh as she set her pencil down and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't really care what you think. I didn't ask to be stuck with you, this is your fault. I'm not going to let my grades slip just because you're bored." She muttered in a frustrated tone. It was quite the headache dealing with Zhe at school, at home, and all the times in between.

"Heh, yah got a point there. I don't know if it was good 'r bad luck what brought us togetha. All I know is-" The nomad was cut short as three different signals were projected through the city, loud and clear for him and his host to hear. Grace could almost feel the grin spread across the lucky nomad's face. "Well well, looks like mah prayers have been answered. C'mon now darlin' we best be off before we git in trouble."

Grace rubbed her face in annoyance as the call to Avalon still rang in her head. She knew she agreed to stop this Omega being from destroying everything she knew and loved, but damn it she was close to finishing her homework. With a resigned sigh she stood up from her chair and slipped a white jacket on, not sure of how cold it was tonight. The teen stepped out of her room and down the stairs. She was just about to head to the door when she was stopped by a voice from the next room over.

"Grace?" her mother called out, obviously wondering why her daughter was near the front door. Grace turned to the doorway into the living room, able to see her mother sitting on the couch at this angle. "I got a call from a friend to help her out with our homework. I promise I won't be out too late." She said, coming up with the best excuse she could. "Oh...alright then, be careful honey." Was the response she got. The teen let out a quiet sigh and slipped her shoes on before rushing out the door.

With a bit of help from her possessor, Grace turned in the right direction of the call and started heading out to where El's call came from.

The Vastness of Space

Footsteps, light and fast ran along an imaginary road; all around, stars blazed in a trillion and one beautiful colours, illuminating the being currently running.

The being was what appeared to be a little girl- red ribbons flapping in a non existent breeze held up two bobbing pigtails of pink hair- hair that now had gold streaks running through. The girl herself was not entirely normal either- over her entire body (apart from the face) ran glowing lines of gold, twisting and turning into intricate and beautiful patterns.

The girl's name was Madoka, well, was Madoka. She was now known as Ein. she had never gotten used to that name; it sounded out of place and anyway, it had been someone else's name in the not so distant past. Old man Ein, Nomad, god, Salvation- the one who had saved her from a terrible fate but by doing so had given her a doom of equal weight.

That is how existence works girl, everything is on a balance, an equilibrium that allows nothing to be unequal

Ein smiled bitterly to herself upon remembering these words. How true- she was saved but now doomed to wander a multiverse without family, home or friends. It was incredibly lonely and had driven her to tears many times.

Suddenly the girl stopped. She had reached destination. Before her, shimmering, floated earth; a earth- there were an infinite number of earths out there in the darkness but it was this one she sought. It was the rumored Singular- an earth untouchable. If it weren't for the annihilation currently looming on the horizon she would have left the world alone- even defended it but now.....she had to compromise. She had to breach the Singularity, it was her decision and she had to see it through.

Her eyes roamed for a way of entry- a host as the other nomads termed it.

Down below, the night was dark over St Claire.

---

St Claire

3:40

Clear stream avenue

-"Bye!"-

-"See you tomorrow!"-

"Bye"

Alice waved goodbye to Sharon and Sasha as they turned left to go each to their respective homes. She did not walk with them in the last part of her journey for her apartment was straight on ahead- 5th floor number 20 to be precise. Turning, Alice Pyre trudged off, her eyes on the ground as the music from her headphones filled her mind and thought with another world. Alice sighed, it was a nice song but...she couldn't really fully enjoy it- her mind was distracted by all the things she needed to do when she got home: clean dishes, hang clothes, eat dinner, homework.

Alice stopped, she had to cross the road- her apartment was opposite.

So many chores to get through yet she was getting used to looking after herself now- she lived alone here in the states while her father lived and worked overseas in Japan. Where was her mother? well.....

Alice took a step forward onto the road, there was a lull in traffic and she seized the opportunity- the incoming cars were still far away, hindered by a red light.

Her mother was dead. She still could not think of the fact without a taste of bitterness and anger. The criminal had...had...

Suddenly there was a blaring of horns.

Even as Alice whipped around in shock and surprise the hard metal surface of a speeding car made contact. Where did the car come from? where...? Time seemed to slow even as a few last thoughts surfaced in the school girl's mind.

The car is blue...so was the car that killed mom years ago...heh, guess it's in the genes then.

See you soon mom

The were a soft but firm thud, a sensation of flying through the air and....inky blackness.

---

"Who are you?"

Me?

"Yes, what in the world is happening?"

"Um....well...."

A blank white space. Not heaven, not hell, not nothing. Alice found herself awake in a strange dimension. The white space was not blank, screens flew by sometimes- each a live colour scene of a memory Alice had stored deep in her sub-consciousness. Perhaps that's where she was- in her own mind, but that didn't make any sense at all.

To make matters even more bizarre there in front of her, standing on solid nothing was a girl about her age twiddling her fingers in awkward silence- her face the expression of someone trying desperately to explain something that cannot be put into words.

edited 3rd Sep '13 2:33:23 AM by biomechtraveler

In retrospect, the experience was rather like sneezing.

Fiona was alone, in the quiet of her home. At the moment, her parents were out on business, and while her family's maids were surely present, they were elsewhere. As such, the girl was left alone in her room. The curtains were drawn, disallowing an sufficient levels of light to shine through. Her room had a definite level of softness to it. Soft, frilled pillows, soft sheets and blankets, soft carpeting... She did not settle for less. Fiona sat quietly, scanning her choice of book to pass the time. It was a novel, a simple and yet engaging fantasy tale that Fiona found herself quite enjoying. None of the characters were insufferable morons, which was always a plus. She greatly disliked it when characters made stupid, illogical choices for the sake of the plot, with no real justification. This book handily avoided that, meaning that she found the author quite tolerable as well. No obnoxious, forced stupidity for the sake of plot was always a good point in her opinion. After all, she found obnoxious idiots an annoyance in real life, and felt the same about them in fiction. Regardless, it was definitely a good way to pass the time. Of course, she was growing more interested in checking on what was going on via the internet as well... it seemed like it could be another excellent way to pass the time, as well. She had her own personal computer as well, so it would be simple.

The white-haired girl rose to her feet, and turned to her computer desk, before approaching it.

And then she froze.

For Fiona, everything stopped. Not outside, but inside. Her blood stomped flowing. Her pulse stopped. Her heart stopped. Brain activity ceased... And then it all resumed before she could even fall forward. It was in an instant. She felt it, and yet she didn't. Fiona caught herself, and stared forward, breathing heavily. Her heart hammered in her chest. Something had happened. Something was different, but... but what was it? What had just happened?

Helloooo~! Sorry about that, it was the only way to make sure I didn't hurt you, and you seem nice so I didn't want to hurt you! You're really pretty, too!

It was a cheerful voice. It sounded as if it belonged to a girl, not much older then Fiona herself. Bewildered, Fiona looked around, steadying herself.

"... Hello? Who's... what..."

Oh, guess I should explain... I'm you now! Well, kind of. I'm in your body and I can make you do stuff, but I'm not a big meanie so I'm not going to make you do mean stuff, okay? So don't worry about that, okay? Okay!

The cheery voice was... babbling. Fiona didn't see anyone, but then... the voice didn't... sound. Well, it did. She knew exactly what it sounded like. But it wasn't from outside... it was directly transmitted into her brain. Or...

More accurately, within your brain! That's where I am! Well, kinda. I'm in all of you right now... Um, don't worry, though! I'll take good care of you!

Fiona stared ahead.

"... I have gone insane, then?" she asked, "If I am hearing voices I must have, especially if they are going on about such nonsense."

I don't think you're crazy! If you want proof... um... hmmm... oh! I know!

And suddenly Fiona felt very strange. Her movements were quite natural. She turned, walked towards the door to her room, and opened it. But... she didn't. It wasn't her doing it. She was there, but... she wasn't doing any of this.

"S-s-stop!"

Okay!

Fiona immediately stopped moving. Experimentally, she raised her hand, and lowered it.

"... You... can... who are you? Why have you done this?"

Fiona got a sense of regret.

I should've asked permission first, that was kind of mean... sooorrryyy...

"Just... just tell me what's going on! I don't even know your name, who are you?!" Fiona's questions were sharp. Her irritation was mounting. This voice in her head that could control her body was... well, that was terrifying, but the voice itself seemed to be kind of a moron.

Hey, I'm not stupid! Love isn't stupid...

"... What... what are you talking about?!" Fiona snapped, anger mounting. What was with this? This situation was already insane, and this voice... it was just making her more and more angry!

Oh, I haven't introduced myself... My name is Kei! the voice cheerfully stated, I'm the Nomad of the best thing in the whole wide multiverse, the most powerful force ever to exist! Because I'm the Nomad of Love!

For several moments, Fiona stood in silent disbelief. There was a... nomad? A wandering person? There was a wandering person in her head. And she was a ditz. And she apparently represented love. And she could control Fiona's body. The utter madness of the situation sunk deeper and deeper in for the white-haired girl.

Oh, you're confused... let me explain:

Kei... explained.

Fiona tried to understand.

As she did, as Kei spoke, Fiona grew... embarrassed. Among her other feelings about this situation, it became more and more apparent that Kei really was another person. Another person... in her body. With her here. It was... uncomfortable in many ways. Ways Fiona didn't fully understand. But at the same time, she began to understand what was going on. It didn't help that Kei wasn't the best narrator. She rambled, and got distracted... a lot. But Fiona understood well enough. And... she couldn't argue. To take a power source like that, keep it from those who would do wrong with it, and use it to help people... even posed by such a ditzy idiot, Fiona couldn't help but think it was the right thing to do.

"... Fine."

'And then I really wanted to hug her a lot, I hope I see her agai-eh?

"I'll help you out," said Fiona, "I'll... help you get this... Singularity thing so we can use it to help people."

...

"... Kei...?"

Yaaaaaaaaaay!

Abruptly, Fiona found herself... hugging herself. She looked down at her arms, which were wrapped tightly around her own body.

Thankyouthankyouthankyou! I'll take good care of you, okay?! You'll be nice and safe and I'll help you meet someone you like!

Fiona's cheeks flushed red at that last note. "Wh-wh-what?"

Now we have to go!

"What was with that last part?!"

I'll help you find love~!

"What?!"

Now, let's go!

Fiona... found herself walking. It wasn't exactly Kei controlling her body this time, it was more Kei... urging her to go on, and her agreeing. Blushing and irritated at Kei's bizarre declaration, Fiona sighed as she exited the house and headed down the street. She didn't go out often... but...

In this case, she had to...

... So maybe it really wasn't like a sneeze...

"Oh, dear. The toad, the monkey, and the dog have all screwed up."

Grace would eventually get to the building and, following the message, would have been able to go through a route undetected by any security cameras. On the roof, Charlie was still there, waiting and, most importantly, shivering. "Hold!" She yelled, raising her hand. "Are you... are you a Host?! Tell me or leave this place immediately!"

"..." El stood besides Charlie, although Grace couldn't see him. "You know I can see that she's a H—"

"Shhh! It's a test!" Charlie said to El, before turning back to Grace. "Come on! Identify yourself!"

Just then, the news channel cut to footage of St. Claire.

"To wrap up our evening news, we have a strange and unexplainable mystery for you tin foil hats out there. A few hours ago, in St. Claire, there was a brief outage. Nobody knows how it happened, but theories are going around ranging from aliens to simply a case of faulty wiring." The newscaster said. Just then, Phi heard a voice.

"Midgard. I have arrived. To me, if you would."

"Hey! Looks like I'm not the only one here after all! Say, Sanny, do you want to go on an adventure?" Phi asked.

"Well, not really. There's a lot of things we can do here! We can edit the President's tweets to say anything we want!" Mr. Sanichigo said. After he did, the news reporter closed off his segment with this:

"This just in, police have reported that there may have been another murder in Ralph Fiennes High School, as they discovered blood in the gym. After some DNA testing, they confirm it to be the blood of Ashley Sanichigo, the gym teacher. However, they can't seem to find his body. He may still be alive and still at large. Police may theorize that he had something to do with the death of Neeson." The news caster said as the TV clicked off.

"So, shall we go, Ashley?" Phi said with a snicker. Mr. Sanichigo growled. Phi had a point though.

And in the span of ten minutes, they were ready to go.

edited 4th Sep '13 9:05:01 PM by Psyga315

Groggily, Johnathan pulled himself to his feet and off of the cold, wet ground. Brushing the dirt from his clothes, he tried to remember what had happened. One minute, he was closing in on the target, and the next-
The next minute, you find yourself lying in the dirt.
...when did I get a voice in my head?
I am not a mere voice in your head, psychopath.

Ahead of Johnathan, a form popped into existence. The tall figure stood proudly in his green surgical scrubs, latex gloves and formal shoes. Combined with his hairnet, protective goggles and surgical mask, very little skin could be seen. What could, however, was as close to ebony as the spectrum of human skin could appear, crisscrossed with glowing angular veins of deep blue.

Johnathan bent quickly and grabbed for his knife, pointing it towards the mysterious figure. Almost as quickly, his grip failed, the knife hitting the ground once more.

" However, I am not part of the physical realm anymore. That weapon would only cut air, as the form you see is a mere projection, a controlled hallucination if you will."

Johnathan tried to grab the knife once more, but found himself paralysed, unable move anything below his neck. "Who are you?" He demanded, "And what are you doing to me?"

" I am Yod, Nomad of Medicine. The embodiment of the concept, not at the level of a god, but close enough for even the most advanced species to make the mistake. And I am, for lack of a better term, possessing your mind and body, and I am capable of overriding your commands to your limbs. You would be able to, if you had the willpower."

"Get out of me. Now. If you're so powerful, stop fucking possessing me."

" Unfortunately, I cannot. There is a force stopping Nomads from acting themselves, referred to as a Singularity Status. To get past it, a Nomad must recreate themselves compatible to a Homo Sapiens, and join themselves to a Homo Sapiens as a single being. If I extract myself, I die. You were not my first choice, your would-be victim was my first choice. To save her, I possessed you, and now we are joined until we can remove the Singularity Status. In short: Do as I say, and your body becomes your own again. Do we have a deal?"

"A deal? I don't have a goddamned choice, do I?"

" No, you do not. Now, we must retreat to your lodgings until we are called."

Johnathan felt his limbs loosen up, and picked up his knife again, sheathing the blade. He began the walk back to the motel, several miles away. He hoped this... weird turn of events wouldn't take too long. His head was his alone, and he wasn't the plaything of some space god.

" Make use of the public transport, you have the currency."

Johnathan sighed, and changed direction towards the nearest bus stop.

edited 6th Sep '13 12:25:14 PM by GeekCodeRed

They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!

Grace's arms wrapped around her body as she found her way to the roof of the sky scraper. With the winds, even her jacket wasn't doing much to keep the cold out. She was annoyed at this choice of a meeting spot to say the least. The only other figure up here was a woman bundled up tight and yelling at the teen. She rubbed her eyes in annoyance for a moment before letting out a sigh.

The teen looked up at the woman and said "Would I be up here if I wasn't? This is a stupid meeting place, its freezing."

Inside the mind

"Well?"

Alice raised an eyebrow as the other girl tried hopelessly to think of something to say. It was rather cruel but Alice mounted the pressure on the other by starting to tap her feet- an action that she was surprised to be able to do in such an environment; the sound, as if made in a large room, echoed loudly causing the other girl start blushing.

"um....Well...uh...."

Alice sighed, this wasn't going anywhere at all and though there was no true sense of time here, she had an inkling that it wasn't good to leave anything going for too long.

"Well, who are you?"

The other girl brightened at the question.

" I'm Ein, a nomad....."

Alice gave no visible reaction.

"....well, its sort of being like a god in some ways, there's lots of us and, we all embody concepts, like medicine or..or..Salvation. Well, there are lots of details I won't go into right now".

No doubt there are lots of details thought Alice- especially the thought of there being lots of 'gods' running around and giving people situations like this to deal with, Alice would like to grill the girl further but the 'Ein' beat her to the punch.

"If you are wondering whats happening right now, I might as well come clean". Ein took a deep breath and her expression became serious.

"We nomads are multiversal beings, we can go to different planes of reality where each one is a universe of its own. Some time ago, I heard from another nomad that there was an insane nomad about to go on a rampage that would destroy everything- he had taken control of entropy or something like that- the nomad also told me about a world with this thing called a Singularity Status which basically means that it shouldn't exist....well, it also means that we nomads can't really just come into this world and we have to 'possess' someone to get in- Since we need to find out whats causing this 'Singularity' thing, I came to join some others who are already here. That's why I had to do this to you".

Ein became silent as she finished her long winded explanation, waiting for the others reaction. Alice for her part took in everything that the girl said; while she would love to deny this she couldn't- she had no doubt that what she was feeling right now was genuine. If this is real then so must what the girl had said which was.....far fetched. She decided not to question anymore though the thing about 'joining the others' was to be delved into later. However, the current situation needed explaining.

"So....whats happening right now? I'm dead right? I got hit by a car and then this happened, mind telling me whats going to happen next?"

Oh!, that's right, I should wake you up now- I possessed you the instant the car hit so you should be alright really, We nomads can only possess people at the moment of death so um...."

"So you saved me?"

"Yup, I'm the Nomad of Salvation so I guess saving people is kind of what I do..."

"Okay...so will I wake now?"

"yup, go ahead and open your eyes"

The girl smiled at Alice in reassurance. Alice did not need that right now- she needed to see what the hell had been happening while this mind chat was going on...but there was one thing at least she needed to say before.

"Thanks"

"Not yet, don't thank me yet"

Before Alice could react to the sudden change in mood of her possessor the world went dark as before, sounds met her ears- the sound of many voices...sunlight filtered into her blurry vision as she finally opened her eyes.

---

On the street

"the girlgothitbyacar....Ithinkshe'sdead...Ihopenot..there'snopulse...theguyjustdroveoff..thebastard what are we going to do?It was a blue car right?How is she?What Happened?the police and ambulance will be here soon. Is she dead, that should have killed her out straight....wait, I've seen her before. Poor kid"

Then.

-"Holy crap...her heart just started beating"-

-"What?"-

-"She...I was sure she was dead..."-

-"You probably got it wrong, she was just out cold"-

-"Fool, I'm a doctor"-

"Hmm?"

Alice's vision cleared, there were several people crouching around her, all of them had either surprised or worried expressions on their faces. There was a European there with a long fringe and a scarf who had his fingers on her jugular vein- obviously the one who has looking for a pulse- there was another student there with a look of shock on his face (She remembered seeing around school but did not know his name)- these two along with the crowd of bystanders were all murmuring among themselves.

Alice tried to raise herself into a sitting position.

-"No, stop, you shouldn't move right now, we have no idea of the extent of damage you got from being hit by that car"-

Alice defied them all by promptly sitting up, she felt bruised but not broken. This must be somehow related to her being possessed by that [[E]]in girl.

"I-I'm alright"

She managed a smile.

---

Meanwhile.

Elysium, sorry about being late but I'm here now

Charlie suddenly smiled, looking at El. "Well, would you look at that? Someone agrees with me!" She walked over to Grace, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're right. It is a horrible meeting place. But my friend didn't want me to have the meeting over at my place, said it was too small and too dangerous... hmph." She held out a hand, trying to smile.

"I'm Charlie. The guy with me is El- you can't see him, but he's standing right there." She pointed over to the winged Nomad and El waved, smiling. "What's your name?" Charlie asked.

Fiona looked towards her feet as she walked. There were... people. Lots of people, walking on the street. It wasn't exactly crowded, the Gregory family mansion was in a less-populated area of town. However, they were still there. As she walked, Fiona hoped none of them came to close. She didn't want to have to talk to some random person she didn't know...

Your dress is really nice! It's all frills and it accentuates just the right places and fits your body perfectly, any you have a very pretty face and your hair is really nice, so I'm sure we'll find someone who likes how you look, but that's not everything to love! You need to bond on an emotional level, on so many levels it's-

"... What... what are you talking about?" Fiona muttered, trying to keep her voice down so it didn't look like she was crazy, "Where did the mysterious energy source and using it to help people go?"

Hehehe, silly, that's still there! But there's a lot of other things, like finding you love, and exploring, and meeting new people... But mostly finding you love! Now, what are your prefere-

"Shut up!" Fiona snapped, before she could remember to hush her voice. She froze, cheeks reddening, when several people on the street stared at her in shock and confusion. "... I-I..."

Bowing her head, Fiona quickly hurried away, trying to distance herself from the people who had heard her sudden outburst. Gah, that was so embarrassing! This nomad, Kei, saying that so suddenly... What kind of question was that? What was with her? "... S-stupid, saying things like that..."

Hey! I'm not stupid! I'm trying to help you out! Everyone deserves love, and-

Kei was interrupted by a voice. Fiona 'heard' it too, more accurately, she received the message inside of her head. It was another girl, saying something about Elysium. Fiona stood still for a few moments, wondering where it had come from.

"... Was that...?"

Yay! That was another person who wants to do good things! We're going to work together to do good with the Singularity! I'm here! Hi Ein-chan! Hi!

Fiona puzzled over this for a moment. Why was the voice in her head using Japanese(if she remembered correctly) honorfics? Well, 'Kei' was a Japanese name... but it seemed weird that an alien spacegod(or whatever) would use anything from earth. Maybe it had something to do with that whole multiverse thing. Slowly, she began to realize that, in spite of her ability to understand Kei, the nomad had been using Japanese the whole time. But... Fiona didn't begin to know Japanese, and it took thinking about it for her to realize that Kei wasn't speaking English. The white-haired girl was snapped out of her thoughts when Kei continued.

My host is here, too! Her name is Fiona and she's really really pretty!

"Why are you introducing me like that?!"

edited 8th Sep '13 2:24:37 PM by AnnoR

"Oh, dear. The toad, the monkey, and the dog have all screwed up."

St. Claire
Lot. 75
Hillside Street 12
8:40 P.M.

'Demitria'

Hmm?

The girl simply turned her attention to the foreign entity. Within the room, only Demitria was supposed to be there- lying on her bed staring at particularly nothing at all at the corners of her room. But were one to look at her perspective, they would be able to see the small figure of a green haired child in front of them; with heterochromatic pair of eyes and inexplicable, glowing 'lines' covering parts of his body.

'It’s time. There’s a rendezvous at Baker Street.'

Oh. Must be the ones that Kaf told her about. Something to do with the group that the Nomad within her head is associated with. Midgard, was it?

''Well then, are you already prepared?'

Yeah. I mean, kinda. It’s not like there’s much for me to do in my home anyway,

Well, there are still things that she still hasn’t quite grasped yet. She still doesn't know how to react to the fact that she is not the only human to have a literal space god in their heads. Even still, she had already decided to assist Kaf in his quest to discover the Singularity before any harm can be done. Both out of obligation to protect the world, as far-fetched as that may sound, and her obligation to the Nomad.

Sensing Demitria’s surface thoughts, he sighed.

'I just hope that you know what you’re getting yourself into, kid,'

And with that, they set off.

---

St. Claire
Baker Street
9:10 P.M.

Are you sure that we're going in the right direction?

Along the cobbled roads of Baker Street, there were still a few pedestrians left walking around late at night; probably returning home from a hard day's work. Amongst them, a teenage girl with long, violet hair walks at her own leisure pace, taking in the scenery around her. Truth be told, she had never been to this part of the neighbourhood before. Even if she did, it's unlikely that she remembered it anyway. The so-called 'villa' itself just seemed like another one of those average apartments that you would normally found in any district.

Normally, she expected to see people within the general area of the flat’s entrance. Then again, she didn't know much about the other members of Midgard. The only people that may have came here would either have this flat as their home, were on an important business or are here for Midgard's gathering.

Of course it is. 'Ayn's message itself state that this was the location. And unless he's fooling around, which is highly unlikely, then the reason why he summoned the rest of us here must be important.

But is it really necessary to attract that much attention? Ordinary people may normally disregard this as a temporary electrical outage, but it'll certainly raise the eyebrows of other Nomads within the Singularity-

Ah well, it doesn't really matter. The other faction leaders had already made such similar signals anyway so the point is rather moot. Just in case though...

Instead of entering the facility, Demitria stood against the wall besides it; as though waiting for somebody.

At the same time...

'Ayn, I'm here.' Kaf tried to communicate with 'Ayn via a mental channel. Hopefully, he's close enough to the Binder of Contracts for him to hear it.

'Would you refresh my memories about who's with Midgard right now? I only remember that there's about five of us at the moment and I haven't found the time to acquaint myself with them,'

edited 10th Sep '13 10:19:21 AM by JustSomeGuy732

"A post per day keeps the GMs away!"

Baker Street, 9:10 PM

Christine Richter wandered calmly down Baker Street, listening as Pi explained the importance of not using any of their powers unless they were in lethal danger. They did not know the intentions of all of their supposed Midgard allies, and Nomads of other factions who wished to opposed them might also try to infiltrate the meeting. Pi was being very careful, and it was clear that he did not trust his fellow Nomads much. From what Christine had been able to get out of him, he was very young compared to the others, and had some bad memories from earlier interactions. She could understand being careful around his allies, although she thought it was worth trying to work together with them as much as possible. But she would not interfere with what he thought was sensible. What did she know of the dealings of gods?

Outside the indicated building, another young girl, with violet hair, was seemingly waiting for someone. Christine thought to herself if it might be another Host, but Pi did not know what humans the other Nomads had possessed.

Pay her no heed. Just enter the building as if you live here.

Christine did not miss a step, and walked into the apartment-building.

Call the elevator. Nr. 85 should be on the eight floor.

Christine did as Pi instructed, pressing the button to call the elevator.

edited 10th Sep '13 10:08:58 AM by Lemurian

Join us in our quest to play all RPG video games! Moving on to disc 2 of Grandia!

Prologue Scene 1: a day in the life

The day of the disaster

Within the infinite void of space — one of many within an infinite amount of spaces — there existed a single unassuming planet. One of an infinite amount of single unassuming planets. This one was unique among them all. Of all the planets she had seen, this one had been the most intriguing, one of the few worthy of attention. The planet was a singularity. Her species had often been called gods, and it was a mystery to even them, almost as if bona-fida gods had constructed it. A truly Divine Singularity.

Many had already entered. Alliances had been formed, partnerships struck, all in the name of what to do with the secret of this Earth. Behind each of them, a silent shadow watched, just as she was now above the planet's atmosphere.

Now that no one else was around, the shadow was out of its guise, revealing a tall woman whose pale skin contrasted with the stark black around her. She was clad in skin-tight dark blue clothing and a large cloak which was currently with its hood down with its front unbuttoned, flowing freely behind her.

The first thing one might notice were the lines on this 'human'; alternating black and dark blue, they started at her eyes and they descended into the neck of the outfit she wore. Her arms were left exposed and the lines were visible again here, splitting down at the wrists to continue down the length of her digits. They appeared again on her exposed legs, one lining the front and another continuing in parallel down the back which continued down to the bottom of her heel. The ones to the front split upon her wrapped feet to meet their end at the ends of her toes.

More likely than not, however, one's eyes would first be drawn to her face. She was striking, even hauntingly beautiful — but in a manner that would inspire as much fear as desire. Her features were sharp, cold, and predatorial. Her eyes were the coldest of all. They were completely unreadable, with no emotion ever shown except flashes of arrogance. She looked like the type of woman that could be talking to you pleasantly one second and killing mercilessly the next, without a change of expression. And right now those calculating eyes scanned the Earth below her, as they had done countless times in these past few years.

She brought one pale, lined hand to cup her chin as she thought. The time for observing was coming to an end. The main players had already departed, everything being set into motion. She could no longer have a hand in events from afar. Though it had been countless millenia since she had attempted a mission this large in person, her skills were no less sharp and she wouldn't allow this to slip away from her. Not after Omega had slid through her grasp. Though there was no body language to indicate it, the thought made fury pool within her core, anger from an old wound that boiled beneath her skin like blood. An old failure, repeated, a reminder of being helpless to enact change. But never again. This was her chance to make things right forever more, to reverse the damage of the ages, and to erase her greatest failure.

It was the process itself that gave her pause. She couldn't do anything directly even on the planet's surface, needing a host to bond with. Sharing one's body with a lesser being....it was distressing to say the least, and very disempowering. Still, she had accepted this fate long ago.

Her gaze drifted to the city far below, where the others were beginning to deploy. Her gaze focused on one woman in particular. If there was one human she would share herself with, it would be this one, and now was the time.

A shiver of excitement shot through her, despite the circumstances and knowing of the pain to come next. An old passion that had not been sated for time primordial burned within this being, an eagerness to start the mission and the thrills of the hunt. Let this game of gods begin.

---

A few hours earlier

"Damn mornings" muttered a young man irritably, jet black hair not long enough to shield his irritated eyes from the rays of the morning. He rubbed his tired eyes and slowly got up and stretched from where he had been resting. Try as he might, the simple enraging sensation of being dazed wouldn't leave his mind, and — not for the first time — he rather regretted being a night person. He leaned his head back slightly to look up at the massive clock tower's head; it was somewhat difficult seeing as how it was right above his head, but he managed to make out the time; 6 resounding strikes had announced the time when he had finished scaling the massive tower earlier. He squinted over the edge of the concrete balcony he was resting on, and sure enough the new 'contractor' — a fancy way of saying drug dealer — that had been sent to meet with him and his mates hadn't arrived yet. He sighed. ~and to think I even got up early to make an impression on this guy.~ Why he even wanted to meet in the daylight was beyond the boy; all the experienced smugglers knew that doing operation in broad daylight around here was a bad idea.

"Yo, Ciaron, stop insulting the moneybags, and besides they might be even less suspicious during the day", came a voice behind Ciaron, who nearly jumped out of his skin and he realized he must have been thinking out loud. He felt his face grow red despite his efforts to hide his brief scare as he turned to face one of his running mates, Neila. She was an imposing red - headed amazonian-like woman of a height of no less than 6'3" and visibly a few years older than Ciaron, looking more like a young adult than a teenager. She wore her hair back in a ponytail and was dressed in running shorts and a very straining under-armour shirt, with a windbreaker completing the look. Her smug expression easily conveyed that she not only knew he had managed to get the drop on Ciaron, but was quite pleased with it. Her eyes glinted in trollish intent. "Buuut if you're THIS easy to catch off guard, then maybe you should sit this one out", a mischievous smile spreading over her face as her tone got more teasing, "it's alright, we understand that a little boy like you needs his growing sleep if you're ever going to get taller; go ahead and go back to the house and catch some shut eye little guy, we—"

"Oh shut up, Neil", Ciaron growled but he didn't put his heart into it; he knew this was coming the moment she snuck up on him. Or he was just too tired to care. "Just a little tired is all", though the last part was contorted by yet another stifling yawn. Neila rolled her eyes. "You didn't have to get up quite as early as you did, you know. Sleepy runners are caught runners."

~Yeah, right, like they'd ever catch me that easily.~ "I'll be fine in a (and yet another yawn) little bit." He shook his head to clear the haze that had settled itself comfortably in his cerebrum since an hour ago; the action was about as effective at vacating his unwanted tenant as it had been when he first tried. "It ain't the first time I've had to go without sleep before an op." He tried very hard to appear focused. "If this new guy turned out to be the type to show up early to make an impression, then I wanted to be here even before he was to show him that I'm not some kid; I mean business", he said with absolute certainty. He paused, "Of course," he grumbled begrudgingly, "turns out he prefers to show up late instead. Great for making an impression, sure, but not the kind I would have gone with."

Neila's smile turned less teasing and more understanding as she briskly walked over and sat next to his prone form, letting her legs fall over the edge and lying back herself. "Well, hey, if he's lazy then at least that means more work for us."

"And more dangerous; the lazy and arrogant types are the ones that screw things up."

"Someone's sour today"

"Someone's gotta be the realistic one here. You're certainly not going to worry about it." A tired smile crossed his features.

Neila, who was busy looking like a complete contrast to Ciaron — while he was looking impatient and constantly scanning the ground below while trying to avoid drifting off, she had her hands folded behind her head and was simply lying there with her eyes closed in contentment — shrugged a shoulder in acknowledgement of her temperament.

She would have said something else — probably one that would have been another attempt to get a rise out of Ciaron — when a door opened behind them and she opened her eyes to the newcomer. She gave a lazy wave while Ciaron nodded his head at her. This other woman was slightly taller than even Neila (Ciaron lost focus at this point, lamenting how short he was), with flowing, long hair so blonde it was almost white. Like the other two, she was dressed for movement, with capris, a normal pink blouse, and a small windbreaker that had a few secret pockets lining it.

She smiled at Neila then frowned at Ciaron, having guessed what he had done when she failed to see him in their household earlier when she awoke. Ciaron merely looked back passively, though inside he winced slightly. "Let's hope you can still smuggle well, Ciaron", she said in a professional tone. "Like it or not, we need to make a good impression on these people." She paused to brush her blonde hair out of her eyes (she really needed to get it cut, Ciaron thought). "We need this."

There was a silence as all 3 sordidly contemplated their situation. Neila's smile was much less sincere and Ciaron's small smile vanished, having been reminded of how much was riding on this operation. "Yeah Sheena, we know."

The 3 of them had been orphans from St. Thomas orphanage, one of the most run down places on the island in one of its most run down neighborhood. Politicians didn't care about it, and it had always been struggling financially. It had good people; it didn't deserve the treatment it got, or so figured Ciaron. He and his 2 friends, Neila and Sheena, had moved into their own place, a real cheap apartment, when they were all in high school, and they got most of their finance from Big Al, the street name for the local smuggling kingpin. While they had rarely met him in real life, he was rumored to have been an orphan himself, and his helpful nature towards St. Thomas had only helped spur the talks. He wasn't that bad as far as criminals go, as he forbid his workers from killing bystanders; clean business was the most profitable, he had always said, and from the amount of followers he had it seemed it was true. Of course, this could have something to do with said followers relying on him for their drug addictions, but he had always had a soft spot for the small people in life, none would argue. Unfortunately for St. Thomas, politicians had finally decided to move against him. It had been troubling, since those in the office that were being paid off by Big Al had hampered things, but his power and pockets had begun to wane severely. While the amount of smuggled goods had gone down, violent crimes had gone up without his staying hand, and now new smugglers had come in to try and take his place in the crime vacuum. Unlike Big Al, they had no sympathy for St. Thomas (Ciaron found it irritatingly ironic that despite all the islands efforts to clean up the slums from crime, they had done nothing to actually HELP the people living there), and Ciaron and co. had been forced to rejoin the fray in order to try and pull in some money for their struggling old home, whether or not it wanted help from a business involving illegal goods.

"Eh, it's just another stint. We'll show up these amateurs so damn magnificently that they'll be begging us to come back." Ciaron stood up and tried to look smugly confident, doing his best to get his friends out of the sordid atmosphere that had been generated. It had a little effect, but not by much.

Neila shifted uncomfortably. "SO", she began with a tone obvious that she was trying to pull a reverse on the subject, "Sheena, did you see the kid scaling the tower again?"

Ciaron went from smug to frightened, eyes shooting wide and smile becoming sheepish as Sheena went from frowning in thought to glowering at him. —Uh oh. Out of the somber pan and into the fryer.— He rarely withered under glares but Sheena's was legendary in utter menace. Although this did give him an idea of how to make everything feel less morbid...

"HOW many times have I told you not to do that? For love of god, Ciaron, not only that but it's fuck—FREAKING early with morning dew and everything!" She flung her arms in exasperation. "Stop being such an imbecile! Don't we already have enough dangers in our daily lives for you?!"

Ciaron brought out his own irritation; a stubborn and self justified boy when combined with a scolding doesn't make for a happy mix. "Aw come on, Sheena, I've been doing this kind of thing LONG before I met you two, don't try and tell me I can't do something I know I can!"

Sheena glowered and clenched her jaw for another second. Then she sighed and deflated, anxiety spreading across her feminine face in a manner that did make Ciaron feel somewhat guilty. "Forgive me for the outburst but...Can you not act a little more concerned like a normal child?"

"If by child you mean 17 year old who is acting rather normal for his age...then no not really. Besides, I'm not the only one here who acts reckless." He glanced at Neila who was still on the ground, watching in amusement.

"Hey, why am I being dragged into this?...but true, yep, I do this kind of thing all the time too!" Neila unwisely added.

"I'M WELL AWARE! YOU BOTH WILL—WILL—" Sheena huffed and took several calming breaths. Ciaron resisted the urge to chuckle, while Neila did not, earning another glare and several more calming breaths.

"At least at this height he'd make a good looking stain on the ground. Hey, it'd be like your own personal memorial! Best part? Entirely free!" Neila rushed out her sentence and dodged a kick from Ciaron and chuckled while Sheena just groaned. Ciaron didn't put his heart into it though. He was just glad he had managed to lift the heavy atmosphere away.

It only lasted a moment, though. Around this point Ciaron glanced out and down to the streets below, and in the morning rays he caught sight of a big black van rolling into the street that headed down to the base of the tower. A fashionable car to fit the fashionably late, he mused. Ciaron took a breath and turned to his fellows, no longer jovial. "As much as I like to bicker, it looks like they're FINALLY here. Time to go to work." Neila and Sheena looked away from each other and their faces turned serious. "Alright, let's head down." Sheena spoke for them. "And take the stairs this time!"

Ciaron rolled his eyes. "I know, I'm not stupid. That would take too long", deliberately completely missing Sheena's point. The other two went on ahead, and he turned back to the sun one more time. He normally paid it no mind besides to gripe at it, but a troubling feeling struck him, like a stone settling in his gut. He suddenly had an overpowering desire to look around, at his home. It wasn't a good place, but it wasn't too bad really, and it was his. He shook his head. "Showtime", he muttered as he turned to the door, ignoring the feeling that was still inexplicably present in his heart, making his steps heavier than normal.

He felt like he would never see this place or that sun again.

edited 16th Nov '13 11:32:19 AM by tvtropesnoob

"Your Sig is now charmingly out of date" — Vox, 7/6/2016

St Claire

4:15pm

Clearstream Avenue

-On the ground-.

Alice froze in her sitting position when Kei's eccentric voice came through her head. It was like some sort of phone call except there was no ringing and the voice came in straight without her having to pick anything up.

And it was most definitely not the girl she was speaking to earlier. This one sounded a lot more flamboyant and happy while the girl she had been talking to was...cheerful at most, this one also sounded older.

-"Are you alright?"-

"Huh?"

Alice was forced to confront the current situation rather than ponder on how her brain had turned into a radio for space gods- the man with the scarf was looking at her with a worried expression.

-"The ambulance will be here soon"-

"Uh no, I'm fine, thanks...no seriously, I'm perfectly fine".

Alice forced a smile even as the bruise on her side started to smart.

-my host is here too! Her name is Fiona and she's really really pretty!-

huh?

Alice's smile twitched, this one was a ditz.

Sorry~ Alice-san, I forgot to tell you that you would be able to hear other Nomads talking to me..sorry..um, I know, wait...yup, after this you'll only hear my voice- I'll try not to distract you, you should go home, I'll handle this

what?

There was a sensation of flicking off a switch or changing channels and Alice found that her mind was once more silent apart from her own thoughts. Well this was nice. She let herself be helped up by the man with the scarf- since she could stand the man took it as a sign that the girl was okay.

-"You are pretty lucky today, that collision should've killed you"-

Alice smiled at the man and walked off- the crowd was already dispersing with only a few worried onlookers left. Fiona should now clearly see the host since there was still a small circle of people around her plus the fact that she had quite a bit of dirt on her back- one could almost see skid marks on her dress. She was preparing to cross the road. Again.

---

Hi there Kei-san! I think my host is going home, you should come along and then we can come up with a plan or something...I'm sure she won't mind

There was a pause.

Oh, that's your host Kei-san, she's pretty! Hi Fiona-san, I'm Ein, nice to meet you! We're just going to my Host's home, mind coming along? we'll sort out everything later