Witch - Zone One: Founder's Park
The Iron Bands found their mark and quickly bound the hooded figure, now reduced to twitching in place by Areum's counterattack. You had briefly been worried that the impact had killed the figure outright, but sure enough it was still breathing. And then it laughed and rolled onto its side, the sullied and rebellious face of a young woman greeting you. She admitted to killing the woman in the park, yet seemed to have substantially underestimated Areum.
You relaxed your stance and sheathed your blade as your face sunk into a look of disdain bordering on apathy. You saw- could practically smell the fear in her being as she dared you to try to bring her in, kill switch at the ready. All evidence pointed to the threat being very real; Not to you, at least, but very much to all others present. And so, the plan shifted to getting everyone else out. More tediousness. Your expression remained indifferent, though now shifted more towards inconvenience than scorn.
Some part of you understood. Most of your existence had been spent as an iron fist of the 'law', wielded against those deemed to have erred grievously enough to warrant your deployment. You were not oblivious of the plights of those you frequently put down, and nonetheless the stability of society deemed their removal necessary. It was only natural that the abused cogs of the social machine might seek to lash out at those above them in the feeble hope of improving their situation. You'd only rarely had opportunity to even attempt to help solve problems beyond cracking skulls or slipping steel between ribs, until recently. This society was just as flawed as the one you were born into, only the civilians here held far greater power to their name, and the Diet did everything they could to keep them from realizing it.
But the Diet would not be overthrown so easily. By all accounts many had tried over the century and a half since the City's founding, and all had failed at making any meaningful change. Depose one and another rises to take their place. And yet, by fewer accounts, over time the Diet seemed to have steadily trended further and further towards incompetence. Only a handful remained of the First Farers, and many of the newer Diet members were even more incompetent and corrupt than those who came before.
"Foolishness," you said. You gave a quick wave to Rodriguez. "Rodriguez, relay a message to HQ and give them a report, situation under control. Everyone else, you're free to leave. I advise you do so quickly." Your eyes never left the woman's face. "If you think running is a good idea, by all means, lead us to your hideout so we can find your friends, too."
Areum
“That’s right,” I said proudly. “I’m the Big Bubblegum Bitch, and don’t you forget it.”
My eyes twinkled like two stars crashing towards Earth as I repeated the admittedly catchy and alliterative title to myself.
“Anyhow - I’m not one to hold grudges over the whole trying to kill me thing. That was pretty spunky, I have to admit. But killing an innocent person just to make a statement? Listen, if you wanna fight me, square up and face me one on one. Stop dragging bystanders into this.”
I cracked my knuckles as my eyes remained locked on my assailant.
“If you don’t, I might have to K-Pop that jaw of yours.”
Outside the Egress Eternal
"Well, glad that's over with," Ling Ya commented as his master walked out of Gressie looking a little ruffled, "Damn crazy lawmen shouldn'ta picked a fight with the whole bar at once! Especially not Lang Wu Yao! Ha ha!"
"Uh..." his chattering and Wu Yao's steps paused as they spotted the blue-skinned god with the oddly turquoise Amaterasu-looking sort of thing. "Uhhhhh, hey, Everett! What'd we miss? Where's the guy who stole Andy's hand? And who's that there?"
Border of Unclaimed Room 523179
"Leonardo!"
"Leo!"
"No! Stay back, Prushka!" Bondrewd grabbed the back of his youngest daughter's garb as she instinctively lunged after Leo in spite of her sister's warning, and tossed the young woman a fair distance behind himself, where she hit the ground of the corridor with an "Oof!"
As Maia used her unique senses as best she could, Bondrewd called out to the darkness, voice raised but even-keeled: "Leonardo, I know it must be difficult, but remain calm and listen to me! Share your vision with us and look back towards the Hatch, and we should be able to rescue you!"
GM: AGOG S4 & F/WC RP; Co-GM: TABA, SOTR, UUA RP; Sub-GM: TTS RP. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire.Zone Six, Vicinity of the Egress Eternal
Officer Too-Big-For-His-Britches can't seem to take a hint. You ignore most of what he says and don't even glance at the wanted posters that he pulls out. Part of you wants to snap at him: "What are you, deaf? I said I don't want it." But you're proud, not stupid. You know the brief satisfaction you might get out of saying that won't be worth the hassle, so you keep your mouth shut.
Besides, another part of you admits that there's some sense to what he’s saying. That reward money is still on the table, you just don't need to go get it right now. No sense slamming that door if it's still open.
But that's something for later.
Amaterasu takes off with a hurried apology. Not that it matters, as the cops pack it up and leave shortly afterward. They leave behind their injured, including the sleeping creature that is now something more—and less—than mortal.
You know how confused Alexi will be when she wakes up. After all, you were in the same boat once.
You take a step toward her. A familiar voice rings out then, and you look over your shoulder to find Lang standing there with Ling Ya in hand. At the instrument's question, you suddenly feel very tired, and you sag a little as you turn to face them fully.
"Long story short, Peacekeepers bagged him. Not before he turned one of them into this, though." You move over to Alexi's side and drop to one knee. "I'm gonna try to turn her back to normal."
With that you hold out your arm so that your open hand is a few inches above the slumbering wolf-woman's flank. You inhale through your nose, close your eyes, and exhale.
It's been a long, long time since you last did this. You try to remember the right frame of mind. You inhale. You exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You let the world fade away, once more, until all that remains is the two of you. Two beings, mangled by a heavy burden they should never have been forced to carry. Two monsters. Two godlings.
You open your eyes.
Alexi Vult lies before you, but you do not see the blue fur, or the lupine tail. You don't see the wolfish ears or muzzle, or the paws on the hands and feet. You see only a silhouette, an outline which vaguely suggests some of these traits.
And within that outline, you see light.
Not one colour, but many colours, pulsing and cycling through different hues: blue, green, violet, yellow. And within that light, characters made from artfully flourished brush strokes, like the light were a canvas on which some unseen hand practiced its calligraphy. Practices, you should say, for like the light, the character keeps changing.
The sight takes you back to another time. A time shortly after the world ended, when you had walked out the doors of that old man's shop and gotten your first look at what the world had become. The cloudless sky had been full of characters just like this, except they cycled through different colours and different languages as well. This one seems stuck on black and Japanese, though given that Amaterasu is a Japanese goddess, that makes sense.
It's completely unlike any divine essence you've ever seen, yet it makes you feel weirdly nostalgic.
You push such thoughts aside. "Okay. Here goes nothing..."
This essence is different than what you're used to, but you can see—and feel—some similarities. This should work. You hope...
You focus. Your eyes begin to glow. The tattoos covering your body light up.
You envision the light of Amaterasu—so bright, even in diminished form—as a liquid. Your arm becomes a funnel attached to a pipe, leading back to a crystal receptacle shot through with cracks: your own divine essence. In your mind's eye, you tilt the world around you so that the scene is inverted: Alexi Vult hangs above you, while you are below.
She is a sink, and you are a drain. All that keeps the light from flowing into you now is a plug, made as much from your own boundaries and sense of self as from hers. If she were conscious and resisting, it would not be easy to remove.
You pull it with a thought—and you grimace, gritting your teeth as the light starts pouring into you. It's warm, unpleasantly so, and your nerves tingle and tremble as it travels down your arm to the center of your chest.
From experience, you know this part of the process is visible to others. You imagine Lang and Ling Ya must be getting quite a lightshow, both from the blue light shooting out of you and from the multicoloured light rising from the wolfwoman.
But something isn't right. It shouldn't be taking this long...
The Danse Macabre CodexIn The Dark
He saw the appendage that shot out towards him. He saw it wrap around his face and then retract back into the dark room. He saw the woman of wood and maggots that awaited him there.
A second later, this information travelled to his brain.
A second later, Leo screamed.
It was high and loud and cut off as quickly as it'd started as he realised somewhere in his sudden panic that keeping his mouth open while some horrible pulsing monster held onto his face was probably a really really bad idea. He tried to pull back but he couldn't find purchase in the sludge below him and he wasn't nearly as strong as the- the- the thing that was pulling him forward. So he tried to dig his fingers into it but his nails slipped across its wet flesh and only made the stench (oh god the stench, he was going to throw up, he could feel it) more potent.
Leo made another sound, this one keening and caught in his throat.
He heard Bondrewd but it was precious seconds before the man's words cut through his fear and Leo could actually parse the words. His body was sweaty and shaking but he focused until he felt the comforting lull of his eyes. Look back and take stock of the room and then share his vision with the others so they could-
He couldn't look back. The thing was latched onto his head.
Leo tried again to pull away from it but his foot squelched through the mud and he almost lost his footing entirely. One thing, he had to do one thing with his stupid eyes and he couldn't even manage that, and now he was gonna die with acid burning his throat and gross throbbing flesh around his head and warm fur tickling his stomach-
Fur?
"SONIC!" he shrieked. "TAKE MY EYES AND FIND BONDREWD!"
It took 0.3 seconds for Sonic the Speed Monkey to emerge from Leo's jumper and leap towards his face. It took 0.1 seconds for the monkey to instead land atop the undulating worm. It took 0.2 seconds for terror to encapsulate Sonic's being, during which Leo grabbed the monkey's eyesight and made it his own. With the final 0.4 seconds, Sonic zoomed back into the jumper, scuttled down Leo's body, and then stuck his simian head out of the bottom of it, strange blue glyphs now floating over his saucer-wide eyes. The second that Leo detected pulsing light, he shot out his eyesight to the group that awaited there.
A mechanical bell sounded throughout the corridor as two more of the circular glyphs formed over Prushka's eyes; one over Jengbish's; two over Maia's optical sensors; and then two final ones that hovered over Bondrewd's helmet. All of them saw the writhing mass of bark and worm and maggot, and then the view shifted so that they were looking at themselves, four humanoid shapes set far, far away in the darkness. It wasn't enough. Leo gritted his teeth and forced his eyes to go further, to reach into the darkness that Sonic shouldn't have been able to decipher and bring it to light. A whine filled Leo's ears and steam drifted from his burning eyes as he pushed them past what he was capable of.
He couldn't keep this up for long. It was up to the others now.
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob"Officially, 143 years" she replies. "It's hardly a very long time for me. Were it not for the intervention of yourself and others like you, I would surmise that the infinitesimal amount of time I spent within the Mausoleum would be entirely forgotten about by now."
"Therefore, I have the slightest bit to thank you for." She smiles and nods in his direction. A pair of maidservants come attend to both of them with pots of tea, each wearing the requisite bunny ears of their uniforms. While the mythologically minded would understand the base association, they might miss why Kaguya truly insists upon it.
"The Diet's lack of, or bounty of knowledge, is simply a fact of life in this strange setting we both find ourselves in. The initial few years were very chaotic...hardly the time to be keeping accurate records, of course." She cradles her cup of tea, and briefly moves it forward for a toast.
"If you'd like to know a little bit more than the Diet would...I suppose we would have to stop paying each other in vagueness, now wouldn't we?"
Another disarming smile. Kaguya wanted to kill this man so badly.
"Let us get to business. The Mausoleum is supposed to be a set of all sets, but I am uncertain as to what exactly this ship is supposed to be. Does it really fall into the jurisdiction, and therefore laws, of your home?" Her finger is brought up to her lips as she looks to the ceiling in wonder. "Being removed from all of the hustle and bustle of multiversal life has made me feel like quite the sovereign citizen as of late."
"Beyond that, and far more importantly, how do you intend to...protect your interests, let's say." She shrugs. "What does Darien Brand have that could make me, and by extension my whole household, want to begin to listen to you? What are the resources of Artifacts Incorporated? What forces may be brought to bear against someone who does not so eagerly want to work alongside you?"
Edited by wikkit on Jul 11th 2021 at 8:59:01 AM
Zone 5, On the Roof of The Devil's Nest; Xavier Solitaire
Ah. Seems he had finally arrived at the Devil's Nest, judging by good old Greed's trademark laughter coming from the second floor, looks like he was almost certainly in.
Good, he hoped that Greed had something for him to do. Maybe an assassination or kidnapping, perhaps just a straight robbery or guarding the drug makers. Honestly, Xavier would take anything as long as it wasn't too boring.
But before he could take one of those wonderfully bloody jobs, he needed to speak with the magnificent bastard himself.
So Xavier quickly moved over to the ventilation, easily taking the cover off, and crawled inside. He kept moving, down and then forwards, counting the vents as he went, until he arrived at the vent in the right back corner of the room.
Only one thing left to do, he kicked the vent down, and jumped through the new opening in the floor.
He then immediately yelled out, as he hit the floor, "Hi Greed!"
Inside of a Prison Van; Dr. Nathan Grey
...how far away was this place anyway?
Zone 5, the entrance The Devil's Nest; Salacia Persei Elimo
Salacia Persei Elimo mused that doing almost anything other than standing at the entrance to The Devil's Nest would be a more productive use of her time. It would probably be less dangerous, too - everyone knew what went on in there, and she wasn't feeling particularly voyeuristic at the moment. The whole place was an affront to Concordia, den of iniquity and organized crime that it was, and the Zone would probably be better off without it. Just looking at the stone tunnel and the neon sign next to it made her feel dirty by association.
Still... she hesitated. The club was terrible, sure, but most of the people inside it were probably just looking for a good time that couldn't be found anywhere else, and a fraction of those people probably didn't mean any other people/beings/objects harm. It wasn't quite visiting hours yet, but judging by the faint laughter there were still some people inside. If she just walked in there, checked that no one had cut themselves on the shards of a glass bottle or had fallen into a coma from a drug overdose, and left, she probably wouldn't be an accessory to anything. She was fully divine now, and judged that she would be so for another few hours - more than enough time to walk in, walk out, and leave before anything got too dangerous.
After some maneuvering to actually enter the tunnel (wings were all well and good until you needed to fit into tight spaces) she came upon the gate and the guard standing behind it.
"My name is Elimo, title Salacia Persei," she said after some hesitation. "I request entry so that I may aid any injured in this place, and for no other reason. I swear on my word that what I've said is true."
So, let's hang an anchor from the sun... also my TumblrNear The Police Station
"Poporipo parararira~"
A girl was humming, as she headed for the building standing tall before her.
With a fast walk that had her almost jumping every few steps, with an innocent smile that would belong to a child heading out to play, humming a tune as she did, she was clearly heading to the police station, a place few would consider appropriate for such a situation.
Clad in an old-fashioned dress, like a noble lady from ages past, and with a composure and expression both pretty dignified overall, even a bit cute, this lady had appeared in the ship a few days ago.
Well, 'appeared' might not be the right word, exactly. It seemed that she had drifted ashore in the beach room, at least so she claims.
...It is certain she's never been seen around here before, and that a ship seems to have been seen in the distance in that room, even though no ship seems to even have sailed that day.
This ship is a 'closed circle', in this sense. Pieces may enter the board or leave it, but a ship that sails without any record or trace should not exist.
Even so, that lady had shown up.
In the meanwhile, during the past few days, she had gone around and mostly looked around town. Probably flying under most people's radars. She kept looking dignified, maybe a bit bored.
But now, she had a destination. She had heard there had been an incident, she had headed to the police station.
Opening the door to the building, she smiled to herself.
She took a step in, and asked-
"Greetings, everyone. I have heard an incident has occurred? From what I understand, an attempted murder...?"
She asked, still maintaining that expression from earlier, though with an even wider smile.
Then, realizing she forgot something important, she gave a small curtsy and added.
"Ah, I apologize. I nearly forgot to introduce myself. I am... the detective, Furudo Erika. A pleasure to meet you."
Zone One; Founder's Park Investigation Team
The assassin drains completely white.
"I'll do it!" she yells. "I'll kill myself and you, I'll..."
You do nothing, looking at her, and at last her nerve breaks. A small strangled sound jerks out of her throat like a tooth on a string, and she slumps over, shaking. It's like all the color's gone out of her and into the ground.
She doesn't protest as you take her up and drag her towards Pax Primis, but she does put her hands over her ears, like a beaten child.
Zone One; Pax Primis - Violet's Tale
They call this a station, which means that the Peacekeepers whom the man with the crow told me to join are stationed here. There are many people with typewriters like mine and the sound is soothing like little raindrops dancing in my ears.
"Yum, corn grits. More please."
The man with the crow told me that he knew I was a soldier. That means he must have been an officer like the commander. Does being a Peacekeeper involve being a soldier? Must we take up arms?
"Ooh, delish. Mmm. Beautiful."
I do not want to take up arms, but if the order is there, I must obey it. I am not smart enough to think for myself. This is why I was raised by the Major to obey orders, and although he told me to live free at the last moment he never gave me any instructions and so I cannot fulfill his last request.
"Sir," I salute. "If I may give an account of the situation, Sir."
"Wow, cool, you're so formal! That was a great salute! I wanna salute. Can I?"
The girl calls herself Sailor Moon but is neither a sailor nor the moon and is very loud. She is like one of those little puppies in the shops, the ones who make a lot of noise but cower and yip if you come too close.
"Sailor Moon, she's talking to the commander..."
"What do you know, Luna? You don't even have hands."
She has a cat with her who talks. The cat seems much better with her words. I do not have hands either, but I never let that stop me from saluting.
"Permission to continue, Sir. I was situated on the roof of Kothys when the incident broke out. The robbers broke into the establishment and demanded money. There were eleven of them, two armed with pistols. Sailor Moon entered the establishment, demanding that they cease their behavior."
"And it woulda worked, too! They just don't know how to respect a lady."
I do not understand the expression on the robbers' faces, but they are huddling together and looking at their knees. Perhaps they have all been struck by chillblains and need to gather together to preserve their body warmth.
"Sailor Moon exited the establishment."
"Aha... I was hoping you wouldn't get to that."
"She collided with the table where my typewriter was sitting. Kayne and Moko were chasing the robbers too."
Every time I say the word robbers the robbers get just a little smaller like they are hiding from the expression. One of them is looking out at me with big wet eyes.
"Hoping to retrieve my typewriter, I jumped from the roof and landed on one of them. At the same time, you arrived on the scene. That is the extent of the affair as I understand it."
When I do not have to think about feelings and just state things as they are I find it much easier to string my thoughts together. It is good that I was able to complete the report.
"I disagree!"
Sailor Moon is raising her hand high, like she is in some kind of academy. But instead of waiting for the man with the crow to call on her, she swallows her last mouthful of cake and speaks immediately, smacking herself loudly in the forehead.
"Sir! I'd like to thank the honorable member for her presidentation, but I don't think that it shows us the full ramification of the situationate."
"Sailor Moon is trying to justify herself," says the cat. "Also, it's situation."
"No it isn't. Where did you learn English? Anyway, let me tell you the real story..."
Sailor Moon Justifies Herself
So, like, I was getting all ready for crimefighting, right, because that's what a Sailor Senshi does! But then when I entered the cafe, all transformed and everything... oops, you weren't supposed to know that! Hahaha!
Haha. Lemme try again.
So, like, I was getting all ready for crimefighting, right, because that's what a Sailor Senshi does, but then when I entered the cafe, already decked out in my uniform because I always wear my uniform, the bad guys turned around and pointed their guns at me! And guns are really dangerous, so I turned around and ran away really bravely, so that no-one else would get hit by the guns!
And then I ran into the table, but I wasn't running into the table, I was running under the table so that they wouldn't hit the table. Honest!
So anyway, now that you've heard my super-cool and awesome testimony, do I get to become a Peacekeeper?
Wait, who're you? A detective? Wowee. Nice frills!
Zone One; Pax Primis - Founder's Park Investigation Team
It's at this point, passing Erika, that you lead your assassin, now a hapless captive, into the station. The interrogation room is near the back, but before that happens, you'll have to greet Swain and the assorted Peacekeepers.
"Let go of me," says the assassin, trying to put on a brave face. "You think this is over, pigs? You've got one coming!"
Zone Five; The Devil's Nest - Entrance - > Second Floor
The guard croaks, his voice like a chain-smoking crow. You don't know what exactly he looks like, because you can't exactly see him. Despite the fact that it's late afternoon and the sun is still out in full force, he seems shrouded in shadows, hidden like a blind spot in the Ship's programming.
"You're coming into Greed's place to hand out free band-aids? Loony bin's that way, Elmo. Still, if you insist."
The gate slides open, smooth as butter, but as you pass through to the raucous den beyond, you realize that you still can't see the guard.
Inside you find yourself beset by the strong, heavy smell of spilled gin and cigars, and while no-one seems in need of immediate aid, you get the feeling that at night this place might change. It doesn't help that the patrons seem to mistake your wings for towels at the least convenient times, but eventually you make your way to the second floor, driven by the bone-shaking, thumping din from the ceiling.
DON'T GIVE ME BANANAS, CAN'T STAND ICE CREAM CONES
Clear of the glittering staircase, you find yourself beset by electro-swing at an unholy volume, aided and abetted by a dance-floor that scintillates and spurts like a drunk kaleidoscope. The dancers here are less dancers and more writhers, but you manage somehow to work your way through the chaos, accompanied by a warbling male voice and the undulating wail of a clarinet.
I LIKE BANANAS, BECAUSE THEY HAVE NO BONES
There's a man, lounging on a gaudy throne in his very own cordoned section. His black hair is as sharp and spiked as his smile, his muscled arms are as gaudy as his chair, and his small round sunglasses reflect the floor at intervals, like light through an onyx prism.
He's wearing something like a black singlet under a sleeveless jacket, and on the back of his collar, cradling his neck, is a ruff of completely unnecessary fur trim. It makes him look tacky and savage at the same time.
"Why, hello!" grins the man. "What brings you here? You're the healing goddess, aren't you? Not the other healer, that one couldn't tell a fistula from a farmhouse. No, I get it. You must be here for a favor."
There's ease in his voice, like he knows he's entitled to everything, and a growl like coffee grounds in whiskey. But there's danger, too, like he could pour himself down your throat at any moment, tear up your insides and leave without a scratch.
"It's Greed, by the way. When you..."
He looks up, his eyes narrow into thin slits, and then a man in a coat falls from the ceiling, along with the roof vent and a thin shower of plaster. There's a momentary lull in the dancing - then I Like Bananas (Because They Have No Bones) 2032 Remix starts up again, and the wild hump fiesta begins anew.
"Xavier," says Greed, clearly displeased. "What do you want now? Can't you see I'm busy?"
House of Hourai - Houraisan Kaguya
"Ah. Driving a hard bargain, are we? Well, I expected no less. You always were the shrewdest one in that band of nitwits."
Darien Brand leans back, and his chair creaks slightly, as if to agree with him.
"Everything is within the Multiversal Mausoleum, but not everything is inside it. You are familiar with the concept of a pocket dimension, no doubt, and how nothing contained therein can survive travel from Room to Room — save, of course, for that obscenely valuable hat you call Moko. I posit that this Ship is such an entity, although whether it is or not is anyone's guess. I've never seen it from the outside, see."
There's a light in his eyes, something foreboding and laced with deep desire, but you know that if you interrupt here it'll give him a chance to change the subject, and so you don't.
"Imagine a balloon the size of a world. That is the pocket dimension in its most elemental form. Going through a Door would be like pushing that balloon through a pinhole. It would pop immediately, not because it was too big, but because the Door was too small. The same principle applies to all pocket dimensions, regardless of size. When you go through a Door, the laws of reality change. The contents of your pocketspace are scrambled. Jumbled. Crushed and warped beyond all hope of retrieval. No Bag of Holding, no Matryoshka Charm, no Ouroboros Shaft, nothing in all the planes has ever been able to lessen the paradigm shock."
Then he reaches into his breast pocket and removes, by stages, a Gideon Pocket Bible, three medium-sized nano-nukes, a dragonfly auto-eviscerator, two-fourths of a ninety-two-section chain whip, and a small blue handkerchief.
"In this Ship, however, it seems all the rules are off. I'm not sure why or how, but I have access here to everything I have in my inventory, everywhere. As long as I can hold it in one hand or pull it out of a pocket, I can produce it. Normally, I'm limited to our in-room stock, but now, I can get it all. All of it, Miss Houraisan."
He wipes his nose with the handkerchief, then drops it into the dragonfly auto-eviscerator, which eviscerates it.
"No doubt you understand the scale of this statement."
You remember that Artifacts Incorporated is the second-largest body corporation in the multiverse, and that Darien Brand's enterprise is responsible for almost every generic magical item in the entire Mausoleum, and quite a few unique ones. If he's telling the truth, then he has more firepower than anyone in Concordia knows what to do with.
"Of course, there are inconveniences to this approach. Sorting out what I want and having it carted to my pocket-portal is effectively impossible - I had to spend three weeks finding this chair. However, I am nothing if not persistent, and so you may rest assured that I have prepared artifacts that will be quite capable of destroying you and your Diet, even though you're so convinced of your own eternal nature."
He smiles and looks you right in the eyes.
"Well, Miss Houraisan? Never mind your family. What do I have that might make you want to listen to me?"
Zone Two, Upper-Income; Outside Pine Groves Apartment Complex - Wallace and Gromit
Unlike the officious splendor of Zone One and the suburban sprawl of Zone Three, Zone Two seems to be stuck in the uncomfortable position of Not Being Anything In Particular. The denizens of this Zone aren't movers and shakers - rather, they're the ones who've gotten as far as they can ever get inside this City, and are now stuck in the unenviable position of watching everyone else do the moving and shaking. Taxmen and lawyers, auditors and accountants, clerks of all stripes, divorcees and their divorced - these are the sad souls who live their mundane, boring and utterly comfortable lives in Zone Two, just in sight of the Central Business District and the Everlasting Diet.
Pine Groves Apartment Complex is one such place, and it is clearly trying far too hard. The gardener appears to have ordered as many pine trees as possible to fit the name, but forgotten to account for their actual placement, which means that what could be a pleasant tree or two has become, on the pavement and staircase leading up to the complex proper, a veritable forest of shame.
Fueled transport is rare in Concordia, because fuel is rare in Concordia, and when you think about it on a multiversal level, the total number of vehicles which run off converted starjuice vastly outnumbers the number of cars which operate on highly compressed and very stale vegetables. To that end, there is no carpark, but rather an elevated common area beneath the apartment, to which a number of stairwells, elevators, and trash cans are summarily attached.
There's a din going in this common area, interspersed with shrill squeaking. A bevy of residents is tossing, on the wand of a large cordless vacuum cleaner, an animal which looks quite a bit like an expanded ferret.
"Kill the creature!" shrieks an old lady, curlers vibrating in rage.
"My baby!" screams a woman. "It ate my baby!"
"It ate my ham, too!"
"And my sauerkraut!"
"Help!" squeals the small furry thing. "Murder! Oh, save me! Marx's nipples, I'll never tell the truth about anyone's deductibles again!"
"My deductibles?" booms a muscled accountant. "So that's where they went, you beast!"
"No, that's not what I meant! Aieeeeeeee!"
Unclaimed Room 523179, For The New Discoverers
What follows is a simple and uncluttered description of the contents of Unclaimed Room 523179, as perceived by Leonardo Watch and transferred to the individuals bearing his divine sight.
The moon blossoms into existence, having been informed that it should exist, and the nightmare takes on a cool cold aspect, lit in wordless madness.
The entire Room seems to have taken the form of a mangrove swamp, bubbling and festering with roots. The ground is viscous, like mud. In actual fact it is not ground at all, but a swampy sea of mud without end, a ravenous quicksand smoothie, that eats up everything incapable of agitating it to relative solidity. Exceptional fleetness will be required to cross this terrain, as the mud will swallow a foot and then harden around it like sandstone, fixed by the weight of its prisoner.
Not only that, but leeches the size of small dogs splash within, their blood-thinning bite enough to drain a man in seconds. Thorny vines and curling roots swarm the ground and air like crones' fingers, suffocating in their movement, impossibly fast, and strong enough to crush the life out of a hapless throat. The mosquitoes are thick as soup.
Leonardo's assailant is neither a tree nor a woman. She is a female figure made of living, writhing bark, worms coming out of every hint of her, maggots pouring from her eyes and the holes in her breasts. The two appendages that are dragging Leo towards her are not appendages, but rather even larger worms, extending from under her wriggling, rotting skirts.
"Come here," she groans. "Get me... get me out of this place. Help me."
She opens her maw as if to kiss Leo, revealing a wet pink mouth that drips rows and rows of teeth, like sharks shoved into each other. Her black hands reach out and grasp, helplessly, each fingernail spiraling in on itself like a sagging whelk.
Edited by troydenite on Jul 20th 2021 at 11:57:09 PM
Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone One, Pax Primis
"That should be the whole story," Kayne said, nodding, passing out more corn pastries to Sailor Moon. "And if you please, it's close to closing time. We need to go back to the shop and chain up the door. Maybe look into more security measures when we get home."
"Yes, that would be most prudent," Moko agreed. "But we can still stay in case you need more details. It would be understandable, after all, though we've told you all we can."
Edited by JumpingFruit on Jul 28th 2021 at 1:09:08 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.Zone Two, Pine Groves Apartment Complex
Out in the woodlands of the apartment exterior, one man and his dog stood prepped for a mission. The dog was currently stooped over what looked like a metal beetle the size and shape of a roomba, with two curved silvery elytra taking up its back, big black pincers at the front, and six pointy 'legs' around the side raised in the air. The man, meanwhile, stood up on the steps, surveying the trees all around.
"Drink it in, lad," he said. "That's the smell of the great outdoors...or, so to speak. This place could be the ideal spot for any walk, hike, ramble or bike, so long as it gets a bit of love and attention once in a while. So, is the De-Litter Bug ready for its inaugural sweep?"
The dog adjusted the position just a smidgen, then gave the thumbs up.
"Then fire it up, Gromit! Let's see how he 'andles a woodland trek."
Gripping a handle at the base, Gromit yanked the pullstart cord once, twice, three times until it was rumbling off and away. Two amber eye lights lit up over the pincers, and the device trundled down the woodland path.
"Looks like the treads are holding traction," said Wallace, the inventor, as Gromit joined him at the steps. "We're off to a good start, lad! Now it's time for the real test."
After a moment or two, the De-Litter Bug came in range of an empty bag of Rambler's Cheese and Onion Crisps. The Bug made a bee-line for it, then when it was close enough, it came to a quick stop. One of its legs came down, piercing the bag, then lifting it up to the lights. A long thin 'tongue' like a party streamer shot out, wriggling all over the bag, then shot inside just as quick. There was a buzz, the lights flashed red, and the pincers gobbled up the bag in seconds.
"Wahey!" cried Wallace. "Our first litter picked. Now let's see if he picks up on that can I planted."
The bug trundled on and sure enough, it arrived at a crushed can of Stl-Bru. Once again, a halt, a piercing, and a taste test of the can. This time, however, the eyes flashed blue and there was a ping sound before the can was gobbled up like so much soda.
"Success! The automatic sensor's weeding the rubbish from the recyclables."
But Gromit was no longer focused. His right ear just picked up on something far behind them. He urgently tugged at Wallace's sleeve.
"Now all we- uh? What is it, lad?" Then Wallace's own ear picked up on the sound of distant screams. "Goodness gracious, Gromit, do you 'ear that? What a racket, what a row. Anyone'd think someone was being murdered!" He hurried over to the Bug and scooped it up. "Quick, lad, we'll 'ave to reschedule the rest of the test for later. Now where did I put that off switch?"
The two hurried straight back to the common area, with Gromit hurrying ahead on all fours and Wallace jogging behind with two arms full of robot bug. Shortly, the two skidded to a halt before the sight of the angry mob tossing a mustelid of unusual size.
"'Ey oop now, what's all this?!" cried Wallace. "What're you all doing flipping that flipping ball of fluff?"
Edited by LizardOfAus on Jul 21st 2021 at 11:55:33 AM
And a Strange Figure Emerges.Witch - Zone One: Founder's Park > Zone One: Pax Primis
Something to your surprise, the would-be assassin deflated rather quickly. Perhaps you were still too accustomed to the rebels of your own world, far more frothing at the mouth, the only sympathy typically available to them the sort delivered by a quick blow from a blade. Your gaze did not falter, and you once again waved to Rodriguez to assist you, this time in transferring your now-prisoner from the iron bands to more manageable shackles. Much as it might've amused you, the girl likely at least deserved the decency of not being carried hog-tied over your shoulder into the precinct proper. A quick pat-down in the process revealed fewer weapons than you would've expected. "Hold still," you barked at the assassin as you placed a hand on her shoulder and cast out another wave of healing light, doing your best to hide the slight shudder. It wouldn't do much for the ribs, but at least it would stop the bleeding. Suitably satisfied that you'd minimized your prisoner's likelihood of dying prematurely, you set on your way.
"Anyone inclined to deliver a report is welcome to accompany us back to headquarters," you said before setting off. Technically speaking additional testimonies were largely unnecessary in light of the presence of enlisted Peacekeepers as witness, but you'd still see proper procedure considered. As little as he was bound to care given the individual involved, Swain would nevertheless likely prefer to hear testimony from a fellow Diet member directly. Even feeble assassination attempts such as this must be taken seriously.
Naturally the day was not done with you, as one of the Peacekeepers' trained messenger ravens swooped in to deliver a message while you were en route to Pax Primis. You cocked your head slightly and raised your right arm for it to land on, equal parts eager and loath to learn what was deemed necessary to require your personal attention. Whatever power Swain's familiar had endowed these otherwise mundane birds with made them undeniably valuable for relaying important information, and this case was no exception. Wanted criminal Dr. Grey was being taken into custody, in your jurisdiction of all places. "Un-fucking-believable..." you muttered to yourself, rather more loudly than was strictly necessary. "Good," you said, and nodded to the raven. It took off, knowing there would be a treat for it back at the aviary; Good work was always seen rewarded. You caught Rodriguez raising an eyebrow and gave him a quick "Later."
You needed to get back to your own precinct, but first you had to deliver your report.
Witch - Zone One: Pax Primis
Headquarters was busier than usual, and it didn't take long to learn why. There were several familiar faces present, and more still you failed to recognize. Swain was finishing taking statements from the lot of them; Evidently something had occurred at Moko's shop. You waited for the last of them to finish their testimonies before addressing Swain yourself. "Commander," you said with a salute, before pulling the assassin up in front of you. "Murder in the Founder's Park, and attempted assassination of a Diet member. This imp has already admitted to both under Truth." You glanced towards Areum briefly- silently wishing you could deny her full decorum- before you continued, more formally than you'd prefer. "Lady Areum was not injured, but the other victim still needs to be identified. This girl also threatened to blow herself up, and may... benefit from additional medical attention. Lady Areum was understandably rather forceful in her defense of self." Whether or not the would-be assassin deserved medical attention was another matter, but you were not so cruel to ignore the injuries of one in your custody.
"By your leave, Sir, I would have the Private take over for me from here," you said, and Rodriguez stepped forward and saluted."Commander." " While on my way here I was made aware of a development in Zone Six that requires my attention, but I wanted to ensure the matter in the Park was properly resolved first."
If nothing else was required, Witch would give her farewells, take her leave and head back to Zone Six.
Witch - Zone Six: Precinct Nine - Some Time Later
The report they handed you was spotty, obviously hastily thrown together, but fortunately by now the Peacekeepers had collected enough evidence to already have a solid file regarding the perp on hand. Backdrop, two seemingly unrelated kidnappings, both in Zone Six. Andradite, the airheaded bouncer construct of The Egress Eternal, and Addward, the talking financially-inclined ferret that took up residence at the same establishment. No word had been put out to the Peacekeepers, and the owners of the establishment opted to put out a call to action on their own accord. The good Doctor happened to come across the severed arm of Andradite, and found himself outmanned between your own patrols and the help of several others. Some of your men were injured by one of Dr. Grey's chemical weapons. Testimony stated he made several mentions of researching the bombing about a year past. In assistance of the arrest, the report named Everett, the one-armed street rat of a godling, and... Amaterasu.
Frankly you weren't surprised she'd gotten involved. She didn't put much faith in the Peacekeepers to do things the right way. She didn't put much stock in the laws of mortals in general, really. The bounty had yet to be issued, and thus far neither of the gods had made any indication they wanted the reward. So be it. You flagged down one of your clerks, fished the stamp out of your desk and formally closed out the bounty. It would get where it needed to go eventually. That just left the matter of the Doctor himself, and the fate of the two missing 'persons'. You had to deal with the former first.
Bounty papers tucked into your pack and Dr. Grey's file- as well as two others- in hand you locked your desk and office behind you and headed to the interrogation room he was being held in. You heard a voice as you approached the door; Someone was talking inside. No one had indicated they were attempting to process him already, and he had been left alone. As you unlocked the door, you thought you could hear panic. You could make out a couple words- 'fly' and 'call'. What was he trying to pull? Pushing the door open, you took a step inside to properly address the precinct's newest resident, and more importantly ensure that he wasn't about to create even more trouble.
Edited by lynkzero13 on Jul 22nd 2021 at 4:31:26 AM
Zone 6, Peacekeeper Precinct 9, Interrogation Room 3; Dr. Grey
Well, he was in a pickle. A real pickle. Why do people say that anyway? A pickle is a brined cucumber, what does that have to do with having to deal with a major problem?
Is it the wrinkling? Do old people have to deal with more major problems? He haven't seen a lot of old people in his life, mostly due to low amounts of them both back in his origin universe and in his more recent life of a fugitive.
In any case, it seems no one was going to come by anytime soon, so it seems that he had an opportunity. Time to call Beo.
He walked over towards the barred window, and whispered "Beo. Beo, over here."
Shortly afterward, a small black bird with red eyes flew over to a nearby awning, perching on it. Beo had been with him for the long time, the crow had been a constant companion, a smart one too. Grey had always been glad to have Beo by his side. Not many knew of Beo, he didn't want people to hurt them, so Beo mostly stayed back. Hopefully when he tried contacting Greed via them, he would just assume them to be yet another one of the many messenger birds present throughout Concordia. Crows were not exactly a common messenger bird though, so he hoped that Greed would actually pay attention and not assume Beo to be a Peacekeeper raven.
Actually, that could be a problem.
The logical solution was to prevent Greed from actually seeing Beo, perhaps if he got them to sneak in via the air ducts and proceed to-
Beo threw a pebble at Dr. Grey, shaking him out of his little blank out. Right, first he had to tell Beo what he wanted them to do.
"Sorry Beo, but it looks like I'm gonna have to have you on messenger duty. Once I get out of here I'll get you a nice treat, maybe some good meat? Anyway, so here's what I want to you to-"
The door knob began rattling, and the sounds made it evident that someone was beginning to unlock it.
Grey whipped around, and both his eyes and Beo's widened in shock. Grey quickly turned back to Beo and rapidly whispered "Go. Fly away, I'll call you back when I have the chance."
Beo quickly flew off, the door began to open.
Grey quickly sat down at the table in the center of the room, with the odd slit, he had to act casual.
"HELLO! I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING SUSPICIOUS LIKE ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE! YEP, NOT AT ALL!"
Fucking hell, he was terrible at acting casual.
Zone 5, Devil's Nest, Second Floor; Xavier Solitaire
"Oh, sorry boss. I'll head off to the bar then, wait until you're done with the Queen of Hearts over here. Perhaps I'll do some cartomancy for your guests. Been a while since I did that." Xavier quickly responds.
Xavier then wanders over to the bar, and looks at the bartender.
"Barkeep, give me a Seven Seas Cocktail. You know, my usual. I love testing my luck like this."
Xavier leans in closer toward the bartender. "Though while you're at it, have you heard any recent news in our criminal underworld? Perhaps drugs or arrests?" Xavier queries.
Zone One, Pax Primis
Swain took the statements of those present with unflinching calmness, his gaze stern and silent. Though when Sailor Moon begins speaking, his demonic talon twitched violently as though it was resisting the urge to strangle her. Not that any could see that, given he'd tucked said talon once more into his coat.
After silently takings notes and mentally assessing the situation, he exhaled a long breath. "Very well then. Given Miss Ainsel and Mister Kothys have declined to press charges, this case is henceforth closed, and you are all free to leave."
He turned to the robbers, his gaze still stern. "I have noted this incident in our records, however. Should any of you be convicted of crimes at any later date, this may factor into your sentencing at that juncture. Be forewarned."
Rising from his desk, Beatrice fluttered back onto his shoulder as he headed for the door. Miss Violet, Miss Moon, if either of you are still interested in joining the Peacekeepers, please speak to the receptionist at the front desk. You will have to undergo a standard physical and written examination, of course, but it should hardly be a trifle for those dedicated to justice."
Given the sheer number of idiots who managed to worm their way into the outer Zones, Swain wouldn't be surprised if 'Sailor Moon' somehow passed with flying colors, despite her obvious lack of mental faculties.
Any further thought on the matter was ended by the prompt appearance of Witch. The Sixth Guardian, and easily one of the few people Swain respected most in all of Concordia. Her presence threatened to bring a smile to his face, but Areum's presence assured such a thing was impossible.
He nodded in greeting as he took in her words. "Understood. You may attend to your own Zone, Witch." Swain dismissed her. "This case falls under my jurisdiction in Zone One, but I would take over this investigation regardless. An attack on a member of the Diet is something I cannot ignore."
Not that he was particularly concerned with Areum's continued survival, but an attempt on the Diet suggested open rebellion. Though this woman was more than likely a deranged lone wolf, Swain could not overlook the possibility of coordinated action. And any anti-Diet group was of great interest to him, for a multitude of reasons.
"Now," He turned to the assassin, completely ignoring Areum and the strange 'detective' that had entered. "Attempting to kill a member of the Diet is quite a serious crime. As is murder. You'll almost certainly be incarcerated for the rest of your life, or worse. However, if you are working with or for an organization, I may be willing to lessen your sentence in exchange for any information on co-conspirators."
Swain gestured towards the interrogation room with his claw. "When we enter that room, you can explain yourself willingly, or refuse to comment, in which case, you will be persecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Know, however, that you cannot deceive me; I possess magic that can tell truth from lies. And my patience is very limited. Now, come."
He opened the interrogation room's door and indicated that the assassin should enter. "You may watch if you so desire, Areum. If not, you're free to go."
Zone Five, Devil's Nest
Amaterasu made it a point not to judge those less fortunate. For all she did to help her children, even she could not save everyone, and so many turned to evil to ease pain. No one was simply pure evil, in her eyes. Even the Egg Man was not wrong to want to advance human technology; he just needed to learn the beauty that nature could provide.
The Devil's Nest was a place that reeked of evil. Her sensitive nose twitched at the offending smells, and she almost lost the scent trail, but she maintained her focus.
Amaterasu entered less than a minute after Elimo, slashing her way through the gate with one brushstroke before fixing it behind her with another. She stifled a whine at the pounding music and scent of drugs, keeping her mind on that one scent, her one mission. Bounding up the stairs, past and over any guards that would try to stop her.
She naturally found her way to Greed, and stood before him, baring her fangs. "Where is Andradite?" She demanded.
Her eyes flicked over to Elimo, a moment, and she paused, realizing for the first time the presence of a fellow goddess. Her snarl slipped for a moment. "Ah, were you here to rescue Andradite as well?"
Normally one might wonder how Elimo would even know about Andradite, but Amaterasu couldn't tell Elimo's exact domain at a glance, and didn't write off the possibility that she was a goddess of knowledge.
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?Zone 5, The Devil's Nest, Entrance -> Second Floor; Salacia Persei Elimo
Elimo supposed that, barring being kept from anyone who needed serious medical attention or active crimes that she could reasonably stop, the place wasn't so bad. She didn't see anyone collapsed on the floor or vomiting blood, at least not yet, so that at least was a relief. She made her way through the first floor and up the stairway in an attempt to find a decent vantage point, though it was a challenging endeavor when she had to stop every ten feet because someone was trying to use one of her wings as an impromptu towel.
Something about the Devil's Nest was strangely familiar, even though she had never visited it before, and after a moment she realized what. The people here were all looking for something, whether it was alcohol or smoking or drugs, a mob reeking of desperation as they ran for something that would never be enough, and-
She made her way through the mass of people on the second floor and turned to face the seeming owner of the place. "I apologize for disturbing you, sir," she said, as graciously as she could manage given that she was very conscious that the mix of alcohol/vomit/assorted bodily fluids on her wings was drying into sticky gunk, "but I did not come here to ask for a favor. I was merely looking for any injured on this floor-"
And then a strange man in a coat dropped from the ceiling yelling "Hi Greed!", the surprise factor of which temporarily stunned her into silence. The two conversed, with Greed calling the man 'Xavier' and the man calling her the Queen of Hearts before wandering off in the direction of the bar. She decided to process that situation later when she was not currently in the presence of the head of an organized crime syndicate.
Suddenly, Amaterasu bounded into the situation, snarling at Greed about the whereabouts of someone named Andradite before turning to her and asking - surprisingly respectfully, all things considered - whether Elimo was there to rescue them.
After a moment of thinking about what to say, she spoke. "I apologize, great Amaterasu, but I do not know of this Andradite. Furthermore, I feel that my continued presence here would be an intrusion considering my lack of knowledge about this matter, and would not wish to offend either of you by remaining. However, if I am to be involved, I humbly request that we relocate to neutral ground, to decrease the chances that the situation goes poorly and ends up injuring innocents."
So, let's hang an anchor from the sun... also my TumblrZone 5, Devil's Nest, Second Floor, The Bar; Xavier Solitaire
The bartender turned around and started grabbing the first seven things from his stocks that he saw, whilst engaging Xavier in conversation, "Well, from what I heard from Greed's informants, one of those criminal doctors got arrested. Not the medical kind."
Xavier responded, "Was it Dr. Syrup? I hope not, I love his work."
The bartender placed one bottle each of tequila, apple cider, juice, whiskey, cola, grenadine, and Vodka. He gave a quizzical look towards Xavier and replied, "I don't think he's actually a doctor, though the arrested one may not be one either. Can't really tell with these nutjobs." He shook his head and began mixing the ingredients together. "Anyway, the guy they arrested was that Doctor who kept breaking out, the one who sold the cheap and risky healing services, what was his name? Doctor Green or Doctor Grenade or Doctor Greedo?" The bartender's face scrunched up in thought, having finished mixing the Seven Seas cocktail, once again he shoot his head and poured out the drink into a glass. "Anyway, here's your Seven Seas."
Xavier took the drink, "Thanks Barkeep." lifted his mask slightly, and downed the whole thing.
The bartender stared at him. "You're never going to take off that mask are you? Hell, I be you'll either die with it on or die right after you take it off."
Xavier, now a bit tipsy, quickly responded, "Yeah yeah, I like the mask. So what? I do what I do and you do what you do. But it seems there's a fight about to go on with the Queen of Hearts and the... I don't know, 9 of Hearts? Anyway, I'm gonna preempt that fight! Woo!"
Xavier quickly drew a 5 of Hearts card and threw it, aiming at Elimo, missing completely and breaking a window.
Xavier stares at the window, before saying "I'll pay for that."
Zone Six, vicinity of the Egress Eternal
Something is wrong.
That unpleasant warmth grows into a searing heat. A strangled gurgle slips between your clenched teeth as the heat spreads through you. It feels like your whole nervous system has been replaced with red-hot iron, like your nerves are wires carrying too much electricity.
Your arm spasms. Your tattoos throb an angry red. You can hear a sizzling sound and realize that it's coming from you. Steam is rising from your skin. You start to see red, realize that it's not just blood rushing to your eyes. The light shining out of your goggles has turned from watery blue to bloody crimson.
The blue hue of your skin darkens to purple. Then violet. Then a dull, earthy brown that begins to glow, deep red, orange, yellow...
You can see deep shadows stretching from Alexi's form. her whole body is lit up starkly, both from the rainbow light still rising out of her and the intense glare that now pours from every part of your body.
Your head snaps back. Your jaw locks up. You can smell the rank stench of burning dog fur. But it's not coming from her. It's coming from you.
You itch everywhere. Arms, legs, chest, back, neck, head. You want to scratch but you can't, because your arm is locked in place by the power still streaming through it into you. You can't see yourself. you don't need to. You've seen it often enough to have an idea of what's happening, an idea that's only reinforced when you feel a sharp pain in your gums and feel the tips of your teeth digging into your chin.
Memories come to you. Of Drogo, Inheritor of Hades, writhing on the floor after he absorbed the essence of Camazotz. You remember the leathery wings that burst out of his back and the monstrous talons which tore their way out of his boots. You remember the way the bat-god's essence reshaped his deathly white face: the squashed nose, the prominent fangs, the giant ears.
The same thing is happening here, now. The essences within you are in conflict. Amaterasu, even this tiny fragment of her, is powerful almost beyond belief. The dormant power of an Aztec rain god threatens to evaporate in the face of the sun's searing heat, and your body is reflecting that struggle for dominance.
You can feel a tingle at the base of your spine. Soon you'll be just like the unconscious woman laying before you. Worse, you'll be a mishmash. A chimera.
The Sun is brilliant and overwhelming. No raincloud can hope to stand against it.
But you are more than just the rain. You are a sun too.
Not the sun, but a sun. And not just any sun.
The Third Sun.
You shut your eyes...
And open them to find yourself in the Cave.
It is not as you left it.
The vast expanse of water is no longer placid and still. It bubbles and churns.
The vaulted ceiling is no longer lost in darkness. A light fills it now. The stone statue of Tlaloc is lit up from above. You look up, shielding your eyes from the glare.
A Sun hangs over you. It pulses and throbs, flaring with prominences. Its corona is every colour and no colour at once. Sunspots dance across its surface, winking in and out of existence to form the suggestion of characters from a language you cannot read.
Between the hiss of evaporating water and the crackle of burning air, you can just make out another sound: a lupine howl, distant and mournful. It is a cry of challenge, a way of asserting dominance.
You lower your arm. You stare directly into the glare. Your eyes water for a moment, then stop. "I don't think so."
The water beneath your feet stills.
Then it becomes an ocean of flame. A cauldron of stellar matter. The surface of a red giant.
"this is my temple," you say to the foreign star. "I am master here."
A great column of flame erupts from the red giant. It twists and arcs through the air, curving around the foreign star like a dancer's veil. The prominence closes its loop.
The foreign star howls again. The pitch is higher now, fearful almost.
The prominence constricts, pulling this kaleidoscopic upstart towards you. The howling becomes a yipping, then a whimper.
For a moment, you almost feel sorry for this tiny fragment of godhood. So briefly separated from its source, so quickly torn away from its original host. Alone, confused, and desperate to assert itself in an unfamiliar universe.
But you don't have a choice now. It's her or you.
"I'm sorry, little wolf..."
The bright newborn star touches down on the red giant's surface. You hear one last, terrified scream as it sinks into the scabrous photosphere...
Zone Six, vicinity of the Egress Eternal
And then a sonic boom knocks you flat on your ass.
You blink, staring up at the sky. You feel like you just ran a marathon in the desert with no sunscreen. Your whole body is stiff and raw, your breaths heavy and shallow. Your arm is bent at the elbow, your hand sticking straight up. You try to wiggle your fingers, but they're slow to respond and the movement sends pins and needles into your joints.
Your skin is still smoking, still an angry red. Belatedly, you realize that your ears are ringing and your back hurts.
Your jaw opens ever so slightly. A dry, raspy sound creeps out of your mouth. It takes you a second to understand what you just said.
"Owwww..."
You hurt like hell. That's the understatement of the century. But you've been through worse, and the pain will pass. More importantly, you can't sense any trace of another god's essence in your immediate vicinity.
You try to sit up. You try to look in the direction of Alexi Vult. But your whole body is heavy, and you collapse halfway. "Did I..." You stop to lick your parched lips and catch your breath. "Did it work...?"
The Danse Macabre CodexZone 5, 12th Lesser Lower Berthing Deck “The Dappled Passages”
The ringing of Satsuki Kiryuin’s boots on steel mesh decking were drowned out by the pitter-patter of water and the low murmur of human life as the young woman pushed aside a curtain of kudzu and ducked into an alleyway, headed for a morning rendezvous.
On either side of the passageway, walls of brutalist concrete and industrial alloy rose up, strewn with bundles of cables, narrow balconies, running downpipes and cascading tresses of leafy vines. The structures rose so high, and were packed so tightly together, that the Room’s artificial sunlight could barely reach the deck itself, the few patches of direct illumination filtered through the ever-present foliage to give the Room it’s common name. The air was cool and damp, and Satsuki turned the collar of her black trenchoat up against the chill, her eyes adjusting to the low light.
Down at ground level, the alleyway’s walls were lined with shopfronts and kiosks, awnings erected against the trickling water, their blinking signs washing bright colours over the bromeliads and creepers that clustered every spare patch of wall. Weaving through the sparse morning crowd, Satsuki reached an intersection and turned right to find her destination. The tea-shop on the corner was festooned with violet LED banners and orange-pink aloes, a dozen stools set before a lovingly polished bar, the interior radiating steamy warmth from a bank of ornate samovars.
She picked a stool, leaned her sheathed sword against the bar, and folded her hands as the young cyborg proprietor gave her a winning smile and questioning head-tilt.
“The tea of the day, please. Unsweetened.”
With that, she settled down to wait, first for her tea, and then for her informant.
Jengbish: Unclaimed Room 523179
The corridors here are crooked, unfinished, understood in cursory glances and registered with open phrasing. There's matter of a certain inclination, ordered to instinctive and Charter-approved schemata, but it has yet to receive instruction beyond the physical - this is a place-in-waiting, as are all out in the blur, barely-formed and yet to be restricted in spirit. From the corner of your eye you see ten thousand formless things that for a fraction a second you think you might recognise the shape of.
But you know this trick; you've trod the narrow path of Heaven, supped abstemiously from the drinking-cup, surveyed the coruscating sands of metaphor beyond the highpoint of the Arch. You know the correct mindset - A sort of cultivated wakeful ignorance, eyes half-closed but not glazed over, preluding the unconscious fluency of violence.
Out in the blur it comes easily. They've yet to write the words in full and bind this place to the letters of their nation; its only spirit is the absence thereof, and so it can't insist, especially not over the whirr of Maia's dowsing rod. The whispers of halfway-places are of no great mystery to you, and that is why they refused to make you a Heuronaut.
The hatch, on the other hand, is designed for stubborn irrefutability. The unlocking procedure is comfortably arcane, drilled as deeply into you now as bolter-rite or battleplate startup-sutras - you trace three eight-point stars across the forced-matter sealant, honed yourself on the keening of the instruments, gripping your dao in prudence as the hatch rolls open and-
And something slick and tremulous whips out of the dark and past your cheek, faster than you can follow, and your conversion field misfires in a burst of incandescent sparks. But you're already moving, guided by reflex and a momentary outline in brilliant white - your dao whirs a fraction of an inch wide as it takes Leo by the neck and you whirl to follow, stubgun raised, only to see him disappear into the blackness before you can zero.
No sooner has Maia broken the murk with a wide-sweep auspex than you hear a scream, eyes fixing on your closest guess amongst the echoes, and as the darkness breaks in the light of a newborn moon you feel an acid pang of nausea and see yourself across an ocean of churning mud, hidden behind the outline of something rotten.
But you know you this trick as well, and you're already moving - your muscles and the animus of your battleplate already know the motions, the harmony, and the right course comes uninterrupted. You bark the charge order to Maia without conscious thought, replacing your stubgun on its maglock as aiming becomes impossible, and as you race out into the slurry you roar Leo's name, unsheathing and hurling your knife in one smooth motion.
Zone 5, 12th Lesser Lower Berthing Deck “The Dappled Passages” Dio Brando
Betwixt the high walls of the Devil's Nest and the fortified barriers of the Remora, a delightfully-roofed indoor market erected in the service of an inebriated mutualism which was at one point hoped to promote feelings of Community and Belonging, lies the best-known entrance to the sprawling network of unplanned ginnels which make up the Dappled Passages.
Despite their familiarity to the neighbourhood and spirited commercial circuits - largely an outpouring of the Remora itself, having been build hastily and too small by half, and as I understand the matter legally considered an extension of its boundaries - the Passages remain oversights of the Charter by definition. Though taxation is apparently still collected and, logically, records of a certain fashion must exist simply in the recorded absence of Chartered construction, the Passages have never received any publicly available address or map. Cartographic excursions are arranged by the management of the Remora on a roughly quinquennial basis, an extension of the establishment's security arrangement with the local paladin orders and urban mercenary groups, but after sixteen such expeditions a completed plan has yet to materialise. I am told the attrition rates are legendary.
At their widest, the passages span five metres - when one visits, one negotiates bodies as one negotiates price. One prepares for intimate entanglement with ones fellow man, and if so inclined might in the process build Community and Belonging. As such it is considered polite to speak clearly and break the fingers of a pickpocket in the first instance, before instigating outside involvement.
As an aside, the owner of the Remora, a strangely mercantile slug who long ago ate himself spherical, is exactly six metres across at his widest. Resenting not so much the trespass as the fact of commerce beyond his ability to personally survey (and thus personally regulate), a common hypothesis amongst those who make an intrigue of such matters is that any completed cartographical would be followed by full-scale raid by the Peacekeepers.
All of which is to say, of course, that as with any district of any city the Dapples Passages are best understood as a living being unto themselves, albeit one consummately parasitic, and take steps to destroy the foreign bodies which infiltrate their high-walled arteries. In the slums, in any slum of any society, an individual takes as a matter of course and has taken from them as a matter of course, and from this arrangement of threats comes a sort of queer equilibrium.
I was intruding on Passages, in this particular instance, to meet with a woman with whom they could not survive contact.
I wore a white-linen poncho, in a previous life I suspect some species of parachute, and with hood drawn high negotiated the web of dappled sunlight and intertwining bodies - dressed in rags, or full-plate, or else the strange fabrics of times far in advance of my own, in all races and shapes and species. I'm sure there's a perfectly sensible demographic explanation, or perhaps the closure of a school, but there seemed a surfeit in the specific of grubby-haired girleens with freckles and spirited attitudes which, with endearing imperfection, served to hide their delicate insecurities.
As such, when I arrived at my destination, a delightfullty anonymous corner teahouse capable of accommodating three entire human-scale patrons, my appetite was involuntarily whetted. Now, the owner, one Benedict Wong V1.45343 Pro (he is very attached to the Pro) was in a previous life the leading technician for the ships of some star-flung empire, which doesn't seem to have helped him in the slightest, but he knows how to programme and maintain a battered matter replicator of a model compatible with culinary-grade amino-gruel, and in our fine city this alone overqualifies him for a life in the service sector.
Additionally, by some inexplicable and infuriating horror of probability, he's from Eccles. He serves tea (green or builder's), chips, bao, and friday pie.
For those who by good luck or good breeding have escaped Lancastrian entanglement, the friday pie (or catholic pie, or butter pie for the literally inclined) is an elaborate system for the delivery of starch consisting of onions, suet pastry, potatoes pureed to just deliberate enough an inconsistency to remain toothsome, and as much butter as is necessary to (once congealed) provide a binding agent. There is an irrepressibly intense and animal joy in the consumption of such a drooping, decadent thing, which, I assume, is in its native environment intended to momentarily to dull the pain of living in Wigan.
Wong's is quite good, so I ordered it.
Parallel to this digression, the other patron of Delta-Spanner's corner stand fixed me with a piercing epicanthic gaze, her sword lain across the countertop. She was beautiful, in the insurmountably severe manner of a woman with a face designed solely for scowling, and carried herself with the dour regal inscrutability her immaculately-styled hair was designed so candidly to evoke - the notion of an overpowering disdain, an irresistible disgust just barely suppressed. There was something of the classical about her eyebrows, very much the essential element of her countenance, and she dressed in every context with the militant conservatism of a woman who had decided that her womanhood itself could play no role without express permission. You could practically hear the whips cracking. She could not have been older than twenty-six, twenty-seven, somewhere thereabouts.
At that moment, you see, just as every other time I've lain eyes on her, I was struck with the intuitive knowledge that she would one day burn this city to the ground.
"Satsuki Kiryuin," I said, dropping surreptitiously into Japanese. "You look cold."
Edited by OG-Sama on Jul 25th 2021 at 9:45:44 AM
Border of Unclaimed Room 523179
In contrast to his daughter's wail of terror followed by the meal she had eaten at Kothys' making its way onto the ground of the corridor, Bondrewd felt little emotion as he glimpsed the monstrous bark-woman and the horror-laden swamp the Unclaimed Room had become. If he felt anything at all, it was a mild, clinical curiosity as to the biology of the creature which had a hold of Leo. Was she filled with blood, or sap? Did she experience feeling on the surface of her bark, or was it a sort of armor? Having no eyeballs, did she perceive the world through the worm-like tentacles extruding from her person, and if so, how? Were the worms parasites, and if so, were they symbiotic or moving of their own accord? How did she attain sustenance? Where was her brain? Was 'she' even an appropriate descriptor, or were the apparent female characteristics just a lure?
As he raised his right wrist a little to the side of Jengbish's trajectory to align with Leonardo's torso and triggered the canister hidden therein to pop downward and prime for action, Bondrewd dearly hoped he would be able to find the answers to those and many more questions by a thorough examination of the creature's corpse once the team had put an end to it. Now that would be exciting! But first...
"Far-Caress!"
At his command, half a dozen inky black, rope-thick tendrils of his own uncompressed and shot forth from the canister under his wrist toward where he was aiming, streaking in the direction of and then past Leo's middle, until Bondrewd judged they had extended far enough and called, "Close!" Responding to his voice, Far-Caress's tentacles wrapped themselves about the torso of the All-Seeing Eyes Boy, elastic and highly adhesive all at once, and then the intrepid scientist ordered them to "Retract!" as he grabbed his wrist with his spare hand and pulled back both his arms with all his might, entering into a tentacular tug-o-war with the bark-thing's worms.
Preoccupied as he was, the White Whistle was unable to spare a hand to toss his daughter backward again as Prushka rushed forward to stand at his side and peer anxiously out into the scene in the murk.
"LEO!"
"Prushka... I told you... to get... back!" her father demanded, firm but without anger as he strained to pull Leo to safety. Thankfully, he effectively had a third limb: his long, armored tail, which he quickly wrapped around his daughter, pulling her behind himself in spite of her protest.
Zone Six, Near Egress Eternal
Lang Wu Yao and Ling Ya stood uncertainly by as Everett gradually absorbed the new godling's essence into himself. The bard's fingers hovered over the strings of his instrument, but even as he opened his mouth, he thought better of it. His magical music was capable of many feats, but aiding in the merging of two gods, both from foreign universes? That might be beyond him - and even if it wasn't, he might make things worse by accident. So instead, the two of them watched with unease and increasing alarm as their companion turned red and began to smoke, then winced (one externally and one internally) as a sonic boom sent them rattling, and in Wu Yao's case, reeling as his sensitive hearing was utterly overwhelmed.
The bard dropped to one knee and grit his teeth in agony, reflexively bringing his free hand up to his ear while the other gripped Ling Ya's wood tight enough that an instrument of ordinary make might have splintered. Unlike his master, however, the pipa was not so impaired, and at Everett's croaked question quickly retorted, "Hey, Mister Big Fancy God Man, maybe give a little warning next time before ya go exploding like that! Lang's hearing is keener than most people's, but that means stuff like what you just pulled hits him way worse! His ears're gonna be outta commission for at least an hour now - at least! Do ya even realize how big a problem that is?! Do ya?!"
As his instrument railed at Everett, Wu Yao regained his wits, and quickly reached to lift the god into a sitting position. Oblivious of the pipa's reproach - "Damnit, Lang, don't heal him when I'm tryn' ta lay inta him! ...Right, can't hear me..." - the musician reached inside of his being and pulled out a fragment of his own chi, wreathing his hand in a red, fiery aura that then flowed into the rain god's body as the redhead touched his back. Unlike the agonizing heat from the fragment of Amaterasu's sun, the directed life energy was pleasantly warm, spreading across Everett's body in time with his breath and heartbeat as it soothed the worst bits of the physical damage he had incurred and restored his vitality.
Edited by darksidevoid on Jul 26th 2021 at 2:18:33 PM
GM: AGOG S4 & F/WC RP; Co-GM: TABA, SOTR, UUA RP; Sub-GM: TTS RP. I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire.The Dappled Passages
The tea was good, well-brewed and hot. Satsuki allowed herself a moment to enjoy the aromatic steam, the first few sips, relaxing just a fraction.
At the sound of footsteps approaching the bar, her defences were raised again, the young woman not looking up from her cup as her informant lowered his towering form to the stool beside hers.
She had known Dio Brando for almost as long as she had been onboard. He bought and sold information, although it had always struck her as a fancy of his, not a calling. His intelligence had proven vital in securing her fledgling militia some of their early victories. She had her own modest network of spies on the Ship now, but even so, she still found his services worth the effort to engage with him.
From the beginning, they had circled each other like beasts passing on a narrow trail, taking the other’s measure, confident yet unwilling to blink. She sensed in him an unshakable self-assurance that she could only respect, even as it fueled her caution. If he felt the same way, the dance seemed to amuse him.
It was just like him to open with a mild taunt, couched in courtesy.
“The tea is warm enough.” She simply raised her cup to her lips for another sip, unperturbed. The pleasantries thus discharged, she got down to business.
“Three days ago, one of my men was attacked in his home. He was killed and his sons were beaten.” Satsuki’s mouth compressed to a thin grim line, her cold gaze passing over the rim of her cup, through the far wall of the bar, to recall an early-morning crime scene. “The peacekeepers could not be persuaded to track the culprits. As always, it falls to us to secure retribution in their stead.”
Satsuki’s disdain and well-banked anger hung in the air as she set her tea down and reached into her jacket, handing Dio a folded bundle of papers. Leafed through, there were neatly penned descriptions and rough sketches - a dunmer and a human, male, and a hulking dome-headed, three-eyed creature of indeterminate gender.
“I have men tracking the assailants through the slums. If you can help us close the net, you’ll be well compensated. Doubly so If you can tell me who these fools answer to.”
The Dappled Passages; ???
The rules are simple. I do not speak unless spoken to. I do not turn my head towards people as if they matter. My opinion hides itself. The chain hides itself. I am a pair of statuesque legs with a buxom body and a chiseled face and long, long hair, clad in something tight and sultry that I do not know the color of.
You may have heard my name. I was born, or became, Medusa.
Yes. I am Medusa, daughter of Phorcys and Keto, hideous spawn of the chthonic world, birthed from the primordial chaos. I am Medusa, hapless maiden, raped by Poseidon in Athena’s temple, punished by the goddess with a head of snakes. I am Medusa, last of three sisters, born on Sarpedon out of the wishes of mankind, turned slowly from divine beauty into ravening horror. I am the mother of Pegasus and Chrysaor; sister to Stheno and Euryale, the Hesperides and the Graea, Ladon and Thoosa and Scylla.
I am Medusa, the fear of castration. I am Medusa, the rage of the feminine. I am Medusa, the truth of nature. I am all these things and none of them. I am Medusa slain, Medusa slain, Medusa slain. My head falls to the ground and is held aloft by the conquering hero, an emblem of the dark thing defeated, for the only thing men can agree on is that I was born and died after becoming a monster.
I am indeed that Medusa, or at least I was.
Once I was Medusa, the Gorgon, but now I am Servant Rider. I stand beside the master and keep watch, for that is what Kiryuin Satsuki has tasked me to do. This vampire — such is his nature, though the rules are all changed — this vampire could on a whim drain the arteries of everyone here, and while that is not something alien to my preferences the master has stated her desire to keep a low profile.
So I stand, sensing with all of me, on the spiritual and physical planes, alert as I was on the day Perseus came, clad in his helm of darkness.
Do you think I was sleeping? I could never sleep.
I can smell everything, from the butter on the plate to the sweat on the brow of the serving-boy in the back of the kitchen, who slaves over the stove while muttering oaths to a god that no longer exists. I can hear the stale breath rising and the cartilage crackling in the chest of the man on the other side of the shop. I can feel the hum of the conversation on my fingers, and sense the motion of a head turned towards me with the back of my neck. I can taste the food on offer without even opening my mouth, so strong that I would spew my gorge, if I still took nourishment from aught but fresh-sucked blood. Something in me still loathes the greasy stench of man.
I can do all these things, but I cannot see.
Unable to stand the sight of me, the men of this city cowered and fled, and so to prevent them from turning utterly to stone I took a fold of the darkness in my mind and put it over my eyes, sealing them away. The spell takes the form of a blindfold, but the affliction that it hides goes deeper than my sight. I have lived too long to hope that I will ever be free of it.
"Master, beware of him," I murmur. "He is not to be trusted."
If someone were to take the blindfold off and allow me to gaze at him truly and clearly and without reservation, I would take his head in my hands, and kiss him lovingly as he turned to stone.
Edited by troydenite on Jul 27th 2021 at 1:49:01 AM

Kayné Ainsel & Moloch "Moko" Kothys—Zone One, Pax Primis
Once everyone got to the Peacekeeper HQ, Kayne handed little cakes made of corn grits and flour to Sailor Moon so she could keep herself going for a while longer, or at least until the questioning was over. She sat with her hands folded primly in her lap while her partner did most of the talking.
“Well, you see, it went a little bit like this. We were conducting business as usual, and it was after the normal lunch rush that we get. Then the robbers came in, brandishing a fake gun and a real knife,” Moko began slowly and clearly. “Kayne pulled out a plasma rifle and I started getting very heated, quite literally, and that was when Sailor Moon arrived. Choosing between us or her, they started running outside, we gave chase, and that’s how we ran into one another.”
“I am in agreement with that description of events,” Kayne said, nodding. “Concise as always, my Moko dear is.”
Moko’s only response was to take and kiss one of Kayne’s hands as they sat in companionable silence.
Edited by JumpingFruit on Jul 12th 2021 at 9:47:14 AM
I wear the skin of the Elder Things, having come unto my own.