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Post by phantom on Feb 27, 2015 22:13:42 GMT
The XETA remembered his conversation with The Red Magister; it was true that the Virus would give him some type of strength. But what he didn’t take into account was that his X-Cells had broken it down and spliced it with his DNA. The Virus kicked his body into a permanent overdrive, Gaiken’s strength quadrupled. Gaiken evolved becoming an entirely new XETA, the virus had ascended the Bounty Hunter passed the limitations of his body. “Well… I suppose I better help, I owe it to the rest of Havoc. But this time they are owe me big time.” The XETA said as he followed the Red Magister’s Trail. “I feel funny… The Prometheum Virus kinda makes me feel like a new person.” This was true, it essentially revived his body, healing his wounds, forcing his heart to beat.
Gaiken followed Vincent’s trail to a bar, Outer Body Awareness (O.B.A) Unfurled from his spirit and anchored down over the area about a three hundred yard radius to be exact. Gaiken pulled Zaihara from its holster with a flash of gunplay. The Gun was a Modified Desert Eagle, with an extended barrel, slightly larger bore and a revolver style clip that held 13 gage Tungsten Rounds. The barrel of the Hand Cannon was Twenty Inches long and carried a red and pink finish with cherry blossoms on the handle. Fittingly named after his older sister: Zaihara. Gaiken’s OBA was feeding him information on the battle; it was certainly a cluster fuck.
“Heh, my first target… Is –you-“ He adjusted his aim a bit and fixated the mouth of Zaihara on Ishida, he wasn’t even close to the bar, he was at least a hundred yards away from it. His Meta bodies begin to bubble and surge the first to come forth was his astral and physical bodies. Astral Fire and Physical Earth merged together only to be pushed into the gun, the chamber howls with a burning rage, until finally it merged down into the tungsten round. Gaiken’s vision was centered on Kai’s torso and head. “Hey… where are you HEADED off to?” Zaihara vibrated in his hand as he prepared to fire that bullet.
Oh but there was a second individual there who was doing nothing but talking and show boating behind the goons. “Oh can I kill him too?” He was referring to Crim, but there was another, a female a named Halinn. “Looks like I get to serve up a triple dose of HEAD trauma.” Gaiken poured a bit more of his own chi into Zaihara’s clip along with it his spirit and mental bodies fed four elements into the chamber. Spiritual Water, Mental Lightning, Casual Energy, Psycho Thunder. Spiritual Water and Mental Lightning found their way into one tungsten Round while the Casual Energy and Psycho Thunder found their way into a third chamber. “The meal for tonight is a big HEADACHE, and I’m serving up a TRIPLE.”
Zaihara began to emit a terribly violent amount of energy; Gaiken was activating his Nexus Core: The Super Soul. His clothing retained its shape while the seams of his clothing to release a violent surge of energy. Gaiken achieved Adamancy; Zaihara’s frame became submerged in celestial energy. Gaiken became The Arbiter his Super Soul became his OBA-Aura this became his private space, and it was already on top of the bar. But already seemed like more strong people were on the way, someone he had not yet met joined the fray. “Aye I believe its time to the pull the trigger.” He said while Zaihara’s barrel became a Gavel.
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Post by Vermilion Nightveil on Feb 28, 2015 1:59:14 GMT
The elf seer which had informed him of whom he should target, left him with another mental note... he was a stealth fighter. This played almost completely into his hands so far he had a straight flush, yet was one card short of the Royal. Vermilion liked these odds. Of course since Josh had no encounter with Vermilion, and vice versa, the male would see him as any average elf aside from his massive height of 6'8". There was a lot to learn on his end, and on his own as should be assumed. He heard the metallic blade clatter on the ground, the puny kunai knife giving away his opponent's present location. Whisk. The second kunai, which was thrown at him, whistled past his ear.
A moment later, Vermilion felt himself being looked down on, and muttered with a slight disgust. "Someone else to look down on me... lovely. I hope this guy is capable of entertaining. I haven't had a chew toy in a while." He took the liberty on looking at the clad male and inspecting his armor. Whomever crafted it was a skilled smith, and if only the smith weren't an enemy, they may have gotten along. Suddenly the air shifted, and the gap had been closed. The initial question kinda pissed him off, however, and he proceeded to spring back about a dozen yards, just as soon as he realized the change, also charging his left hand with a lightning aura. The way he would have gone in was not the most strategic, and would have placed his crew in further danger.
"My seer informed me of you, if it is really that big of an issue that I speak your name, youngling." Vermilion looked at Josh and set his stance in a balance of both offense and defense. "I believe it is appropriate you hear mine, not that it will matter when this is done. Vermilion Nightveil. Shall we have this dance now, or would you like to grab a drink of ale first?"
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Post by Hero on Feb 28, 2015 2:35:24 GMT
"Are you truly even alive?"
At one point in time any attempt to visualize or prove Law's existence became impossible. In all of the incomprehensible and limitless truth any trace of his name outside of the Lombardi Corporation's archive ceased to be. Any mark he had made on history, social interactions, and his codename even -- they all disappeared without anyone really noticing. Had he ever really existed to begin with? More like an illusion, anything having to do with him outside of the physical profile built on him in the Technocrats database faded without reason.
How long had it been? When had this even happened? No one knew for sure. If one had to guess they would say the last person he made contact with was Vincent Fiorelli, in a brief, yet concise conversation. Did he even remember who he was?
Heavy eyes slowly opened to a complex chandelier of scarlet light and rotating discs. It barely illuminated the dark room that lacked sound taste outside of its aristocratic decorum that reeked of arrogance and grandeur. The night stand next to him was made of resplendent silver and on its top was a traditional ceramic lamp and a letter.
The room and it's amenities hardly mattered but Law was certain this was not his own humble abode, it went against his idea of visual comfort and tried far too hard to capture the eyes of its guests to be his own handiwork. So where exactly was he? Reaching over with his pale right hand he snatched the parchment up and unfolded it painfully, his body reacting to his lack of movement for some lost amount of time. His eyes struggled to focus at first, but before long he finally perceived the cursive writing meant for his own eyes alone.
"You have been sleep for some time, Christian Rich. The world has forgotten about you as your mind has fallen into the void, but whenever you decide to quit being lazy and finally get moving I leave you with some advice if only but to refresh your memory: you aren't finished yet. Find me when the time is right. ~The Devil?"
Law crumpled the piece of paper into a ball and hurled it across the room, smacking the immaculate oil painting of traditional war. Blood, swords, death, everything depicted with such beauty yet it lacked the true definition and weight of any real engagement. What exactly had happened that put him into his long and drawn-out period of hibernation? His body, his mind, it was weathered by its lack of use, and the pain of it all rushed through him all at once. There was no visible reaction outside of him grimacing lightly, moreso at the letter than at the pain itself.
He remembered a few faces and a few names, infact most of what he knew before his collapse all came back to him in flashes of visual feed flowing through his mind in bits and pieces. Everything up until the end. There was still many questions without answers - where were the fragments of his mind, how had he restored psionic contact with all of the pieces, and why had it happened to begin with? What started as a simple task ended with everyone dead, even himself to some degree. While the others were utterly ripped apart he was spared their grim fate, after-all, why would he kill himself.
Reaching up with his pale left hand, he drove his thin fingers through his raven black hair. Long, thick, and coarse just as he remembered. Finally he was awake again.
The naked gunslinger removed the thick covers and wandered out of the room and through the vast estate that resembled a castle of platinum and silver than it did a mansion. Oh how proud he was of his defined naked body! So regal and genetically sound there were few who could compete with his physical beauty and charisma. While one would call it 'too' perfect, Law perhaps disagreed. There were always ways to improve even when one reached what most would consider a perfect physical state, balanced by both his mass and height of five foot eight weighing approximately six-hundred and seventy-two pounds. Most of his weight was a result of his continued metagenic enhancement that put him far beyond what most could dream or achieving on a physical level. Even still, that never stopped him from disappearing across the battlefield in a trail of imperceptible fury.
For several minutes he wandered aimlessly until he reached the grand foyer where a young maid was standing still, staring obediently at the door as if anticipating some guests. When she heard Law's light footsteps she turned to him in surprise, her face painted with nothing less than horror and shock. Her high cheek bones only made here distraught expression that much more disgusting.
"Sir Christian!"
She turned and took a step back. Law lifted his left hand and she tripped on herself, falling backwards with tears flooding into her eyes. What was she afraid of? Law, misunderstood and confused, looked to his hand, then to the maid who pushed herself across the floor away from the naked man. Nothing seemed to make sense, not at that moment atleast. Taking another step forward she cried out in agony, almost as if he was hurting her by his mere presence.
"What the hell..."
"Don't you understand?" A familiar voice echoed through the darkness of the manor, one that he had heard many times before, more than any perhaps. "She's afraid of you, and she should be. Afterall, you did kill her family. You raped her mother. You killed her father. You turned her sister into a brain devouring spider. Oh and let's not forget about her brother, who you killed and brought back over a dozen times just to see your poor subject suffer."
A dark shadow appeared in the doorway guided by etched lines of ink fluttering about its sketchy outline. As it began to define itself and the outline of its facial features and characteristics became reality, Law became even more confused than he had before - who he was looking at was someone he had feared to truly face, someone he could never understand. And if he could say, was perhaps the most confusing man he'd ever come to know.
Himself.
In a white dress-shirt and black slacks his black coat was hoisted over his shoulder, and covered in blood at that. His eyes were dark and demonic, but he couldn't deny that within them was apart of him that was too familiar.
Then things started making sense
"I see." Law groaned, turning away then back to his mirror self who grinned back demonically. "A lot happened while I was sleep."
"You could say that!..." The man barked back aggressively, his white teeth showing from cheek to cheek like a wolf ready to devour its prey.
Law glanced at the woman who stared in confusion, and smiled.
"Mind getting me some clothes from his closet? He won't be needing them anymore."
"Excuse me? You think you can just come here and do, say, and run things as you please? I carried YOU in a coffin while I built and toiled. I do whatever the fuck I want! I never let anyone touch a hair on your pretty little head. Why? Because if I did then I wouldn't be able to kill you MYSELF."
The woman nodded in unease and took off down one of the many hallways and left the two to their stare down. Law hardly seemed to be worried after ascertaining just what he was dealing with. He finally realized why he had woken up and just what had happened to send him into his drawn out sleep to begin with.
"You're apart of me, so how can you possibly hope to kill me?"
"I've grown since I left the bird's nest Christian!" The raging shadow roared back, it's darkening skin bubbling like some toxic poison growing angrier and angrier by the second.
"And yet you're still only a very small fraction of what you could ever hope to be. I don't care how many people you have killed, or what names you've used to kill them, all that matters is that at the end of the day you kept me alive and now it's time for me to take back what's mines."
The beast of Law's self, one of many, growled in discontent. Only a moment passed before it zipped across the foyer and towards Law with a single dark claw manifestation sweeping out to split Law into pieces. If he were half of the enemies he had faced in the past he would have died from the mere corruption of its aura, but Law was far beyond anything this twisted personality could ever comprehend. Reaching out without much hesitation he plunged his right hand into the chest of the monster, gripping its heart while simultaneously slapping the dark sharp claw to the side with his left hand.
What was left was a dark chimera held up by its heart in Law's hand, and a smirk by a man who had finally awakened. "You've done well." The chimera struggled to live, it's face changing several times over.
Then the naked man crushed a mere fragment of his dark sub-consciousness, reducing it to wisps of smoke and memory. Law could feel something familiar in that moment when he could finally make sense of things. The maid finally darted back into the foyer, having retrieved clothes for the man with the utmost haste. "Thank you."
She nodded aggressively, clearly unable to say anything. Was she mute, taking the clothes from her, he returned back to the room where he'd awoken, and was followed in kind by the maid.
"This is a guest room." She murmured quietly, like a child who had been disciplined far too aggressively. She inched into the room behind Law, who dressed himself quickly but carefully. Being sleep for so long still saw Law quite groggy and disoriented to some degree, but not enough to not make sense of things. She had been a victim of casualty, one of the many caught up in the madness pending Law's nervous breakdown among many things.
Cuffing the sleeves of his white dress shirt he turned to the woman and gave her a smile she had never seen before. It was serene, prideful, and reassuring among many other things and if there was one thing she knew about this man who had killed Sir Christian it was that he was a far different man than his demented twin. It wasn't long before he had thrown his black vest, crimson tie, and golden watch over his left wrist. Cross earrings were placed in his ears, and by the time he slipped his black gloves on his hands he was finally ready to get going.
"I see he had wonderful taste for a mere fragment of myself," Law sighed, before moving to make up his bed, "I guess I underestimated him as a separate person afterall."
"Please Sir Christian let me!" The blonde maid hollered before rushing past him.
She looked familiar.
...
"Schala...?"
She stopped, not moving, not even breathing. It was almost as if time stopped completely and all that moved was Law's thoughts.
"..."
"I see. Thank you. You are free to go, I am sure that the others are waiting for you." Law sighed, realizing just how deep things had gotten in his disappearance, when infact it was all a product of his own powerful mind. Were it not for him losing control, none of this would have happened. Fixing his attire he dug his fingers through his hair one final time before leaving the room, where a blonde maid remained thankful and crying into the sheets where Law had only just been sleeping. What was their history? That was a long story for another time. She was just as twisted by the hand of time and casualty as any.
The hallways were silent unlike Law's mind. By the time he reached the foyer where he had reunited with apart of himself he looked back to what had been created in his slumber and smiled nostalgically. The memories of his slain piece of subconscious rang through his mind slowly but surely. This was all thanks to her loyalty to her savior and the kindness of her heart, even when he had slain her parents before him she had remained loyal when she didn't truly have to be. Her entire family, whether they were biological or not, were torn apart and she never once thought about betraying his hand.
"It's time to go to sleep."
The silent castle resting in the side of the enormous mountains suddenly exploded, turning everything around it into a fiery hellscape. The woods below and the mountains beyond were set aflame, chunks of cobblestone, twisted metal, and bits of the broken mountain flying across the sky and into the world below. Nothing was left of the destructive pyroclasm, nothing but a single man, unscathed, skipping down the rocky slope towards the burning forest below from among the billowing clouds of grey ash. Where was he going and what was he after? As things began to make sense, he turned his eyes to the world he had been silently observing through eyes other than his own.
Conflicting wills battled on a planet in a system not terribly far from the barren planet where he had been sleeping, and the one he was looking for inparticular seemed to be there. Vincent Fiorelli, the Red Magister. For some time they had been incredible rivals of one another, and even when his mind shattered to pieces the fractals of his consciousness separated into 28 distinct pieces (now 27) continued in his place to gauge Vincent's power and honor what had become nature for the two. Yet there were things Law still couldn't understand. Who was he fighting on this planet and why? For some reason some level of interference had blocked his mind from seeing what unfolded on the surface which only meant one of a few things.
Either something powerful beyond comprehension was approaching, or the events that would take place their would shape the destiny of many, forever.
Could it be him?
Law stopped and smiled calmly, hardly able to contain his elation.
"Finally."
Law was hardly the simple pedestrian his physical appearance masqueraded himself to be. As a man he was complex, and as a concept he was even more bewildering. A native of the Halycon, Halptide, the young boy raised in the slums of the galactic organization had always aspired to touch the stars and change the world. He never knew how he wanted to change it, but he always figured that leaving his imprint on the world would make it easier to swallow his fear of one day dying and ceasing to be. For years he followed in the footsteps of his great grandfather and honed his skills as an agile, intelligent, and fearless gunslinger who believed in his heart and determination more than anyone and anything.
He had failed many times since then, and succeeded others, from having his arm ripped off, to smashing someone's face into the surface of a sun, he'd had a great deal of fun along the way. At what point did it all blend together into some timeline of nonsensical insanity? Law wasn't immortal necessarily but he'd been alive for over a hundred years and if he'd learned anything it was that living forever was underrated, and that he'd seen almost everything there was to see. Giant space pterodactyls, planet devouring dream eaters, almost anything one could imagine? He'd faced it. Needless to say with the experience he possessed likewise, there was no reason for him to fear anything on the surface of Xelphia.
There was nothing there powerful enough to force his mind back as he approached, but the premonition of the unspeakable caused a great deal of strain to the reawakened gunslinger. His mind was still numb and his connection to the World of the Void, The Touch/Current, and the Ouruborus Paradox would take some getting used to. Law didn't seem distressed at all, even as the world around him seemingly rearranged itself on a dimensional level, the black-haired gunslinger sipped tea from a small porcelain tea-cup with a artsy golden trim.
Green tea, how delicious.
He took one final sip before bright red letters flashed just before him in the warping world around him. It was in some ancient language Law hadn't bothered to delve into, but he knew exactly what it meant by sheer circumstance alone. Discarding the teacup it faded into oblivion and left Law only a few moments to gather his plan together before he landed on the surface of Xelphia.
Law's mind being what one might call the "Super Computer of the Omniverse" he was able to perceive and break down the situation in what was almost instantaneously. Every fight, every combatant, every situation and their potential as they proceeded forward. There were a few that Law hadn't bothered with gathering any information on but they were atleast worth killing at any rate. Adjusting his tie briefly, he rubbed his narrow cheekbones for a moment and ruffled his already messy shoulder-length black hair. He prepared himself as if he was on a date, or if he was nervous on his first day back at work. This was quite the monumental day. Not only had Lysander shown his face for the first time since his head to head against Ishida, but Beramode Aurelius Pendragon himself had actually taken the time to show himself with a few unfamiliar faces. The most interesting variable of the conflict itself had shown up, and if Law had his way he'd finally get to sit down and have another cup of tea with Beramode.
That man had been something of a mentor to Christian, back in the days where he had no drive in the right directions. Some might call him a father but Law had no dad or father to speak of, only mentors and teachers who pushed him further on his path to what some might call enlightenment (though his definition is different than most others). At the end of the day Beramode was a man that he wouldn't dare pick up his gun against unless told to do so by Asimov or Beramode himself. Why? For reasons that boiled down to the long lost concept of "respect".
And needless to say a lot of the blithering idiots running around Xylphia lacked it.
For a second the torn atmosphere above Xylphia shattered like poor glass as yet something else came falling from above, taking the concept of terminal velocity and throwing it to the wind. This wasn't merely an invisible object falling through the warped skies, it was something being moved by some other unseemly force that made many of the others being used pale in comparison. The moment anyone actually noticed it (unless their senses were focused solely on an impending threat rushing in from above faster than most kinds could possibly perceive) it struck the ground several yards from any of the action, but appeared to be closest to where Beramode and his band of compatriots stood.
Only a ring of destruction followed, deconstructing, breaking, and forcing everything within a mile or so out into the world beyond. Just before it struck the ground, it seemed to have simultaneously slowed its descent, allowing it to strike with far less power than it could have. Even still the sheer concussive shockwave that followed effortlessly leveled buildings and shifted the crust of the planet ever so slightly.
But what was it? As the billowing smoke cleared and the black sphere resembling a space pod became visible, only a single man stood just outside of the small transportation meant only to slingshot him across the universe to wherever he wanted.
Law, of course, one of the many acquaintances of some very rude assholes present. Some knew him by his earlier title as The Rapid Gun, others by his title as The Forgotten Gun, but those were marked by tales for another time. Without delaying too long, he stuffed his hands into his relatively empty pockets and shot from the ground to the nearest building that wasn't destroyed by his space pod's landing, and in a matter of moments he was standing next to the troupe of Beramode's accomplices that disappeared off into the battlefield soon thereafter.
"Sorry that I'm late." Law coughed, driving his left hand through his hair. "I was having trouble getting out of bed."
Glancing to the battlefield he had already perceived in entirety through his supernal mind, the World of the Void gave him as much clarity as someone who's mind was infinitely linked could give. Some would argue that such a phenomena was impossible, but Law was living proof that the mine could enter a paradox-like state if it tried hard enough, and if the mind was powerful enough to recover it could access what some would dare to say was infinite potential. This was largely responsible for the computational feed that allowed his mind to calculate things on such a minuscule level that even atoms below that of subatomic could be read for miles in a millisecond or less. Law didn't quite understand it himself but even as he came to greet his long-lost mentor, there was absolutely nothing his mind couldn't perceive to some ridiculous degree.
Save for Beramode Pendragon himself, but that was a subject for another time.
"I guess I'll go fight that red-headed dumbass, ugh...I noticed that one crazy hot-blooded son of yours is here. He's not going to rip my arm off and beat me with it again is he?"
A joke, obviously. When this was all said and done? They'd settle the score. Law cracked a wise smile to Beramode and disappeared all at the same time. It seems as if they were one big happy family again, with Law being the bastard child if there ever was one!
And where did he appear? Why, wherever Crim El Furaga was of course!
Not literally where he was, but about fifteen meters infront of him he appeared, obviously disgusted with the way things had gone between all of the parties, but even more disgusted with Crim as a person. Then again, he didn't bother to do anything the moment he appeared. His presence was enough to kick the harsh reality into Crim's mind of any choices that remained. Wisen up and run away, stay and watch Xylphia be destroyed before his very eyes (along with everything else in the star system!), or get destroyed and then still kept alive long enough to watch everything get utterly obliterated!
The choice was ultimately his, and Law had no intentions of robbing the life of a man who had lived to see so much. All of that talk about legends, this and that about myths and lies, none of it really mattered anyways. It was just a clever lead in to the fate of their lives being taken, and some poor justification for young men like Adell to take up arms (though theoretically Adell was older than him...) and if this whole thing had been perpetrated by Law to begin with? He'd have skipped the formalities and dropped Xyplhia straight ontop of Gaea, smashing Babylon City and everything else with it.
He was sure someone out there had similar taste, with power similar if no greater, but again, that hardly mattered.
Would the Aesir Empire and the Yggdrasil Pirates live to see a day where they weren't plagued by the nightmare of their death by the hands of someone like Law? He wasn't even really involved but somehow, someway, he had any and everything to do with this! Had he been pulling the strings and setting Adell and he rest up from his bedside? Of course not, what a fucking joke!
So Law appeared, his raven black hair and cross earrings blowing in the turbulent wind, a product of the chaos tearing apart the world that the Yggdrasil had figured they would protect in all likelihood. His mentality had already began to encroach upon the battlefield, something that ones stereotypical senses couldn't perceive, but something that the consciousness could certainly feel. It was like a nightmare growing in a pit of black tar like darkness growing into some nefarious beast the longer it remained. If that wasn't enough, Law had left a few surprises along the way, but it'd be hard to notice them before he wanted, let alone that he had left them to begin with.
Indeed, with a mind of infinity and speed rivaling that of the alcoholic badass here, there was a reason Law's original name was The Rapid Gun. The only thing noticeably different of Law as compared to when he had disappeared from Beramode's side was a drop of Jack Daniels on his collar next to his crimson tie.
"Let's get started shall we?" Law mused through his telepathic connection established with Beramode. "We gotta catch up on some tea when this is over, and I'm trusting we'll have our celebration at Vincent's place?"
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Post by Flarhgunnstow MacGrarfileld on Feb 28, 2015 8:49:54 GMT
And after all that big-production song and dance, Reno 'd Law's attack (or whatever it was, he didn't care to really pay any attention to it), through the power of positive thinking. Or maybe it was the power of excessive drinking. It didn't actually matter. He figured he'd wait around for the next potent performance peanut to rear its hilarious head, while simultaneously LOLing about a joke he heard about a moth. Ya'll are scary!
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Post by Turbo Yuri on Feb 28, 2015 21:49:36 GMT
Sensing (read: common sensing) that Ishida wasn't going to bother himself with a response other than laughter, Halinn gave up trying to get him to answer for his undoubtedly heinous crime, and instead thought it best to high-tail it out of the way of any wayward Super-Saiyan power strike that was hurled in her general direction. The weird fog stuff still permeated the air around the place, but thankfully her psyshield warded off that potential danger with ease, along with pretty much anything else that considered itself a potential danger. Like a stray ballistic missile. Or an angry midget.
Anyways, Halinn bolted out of the way a little ways down the street, spurred along by using her telekinesis to push herself faster. Handy thing, that. Quite uplifting, in fact. At that point the guy her light mental feelers had identified as “Elyk” unleashed a multitude of materia attacks against the mage guy, and sending some support-type stuff the way of the Crew and Ishida. The wave of spells seeped into Halinn and gave her a nice assortment of buffs. She'd be sure to thank him later.
Josh the Ninjaman had escaped his predicament and seemed to be squaring off against some huge elf guy a way down the now decimated street who had called him out for some unknown reason. Seeing as everyone else was busy and she had nothing better to do, Halinn thought it a fun idea to go join in. Quickly pulling her Mateba autorevolver up, she fired off six shots in rapid succession, halting their movement as they were around thirty feet away from the elf, and spreading them out to hover around him in a circle at chest height. Thinking it best to quickly dodge the tussle happening all around, the psion reinforced her psyshield, lifted herself off the ground and simply flew over the top of it all, quickly evading or flying straight through any disturbance that got in her way. Within a few seconds she was by Josh's side, floating a few feet off the ground. Her light khaki skirt and white ruffled hair gently feathering in a slight breeze unfelt by anyone else.
Holding her Mateba at rest, she shot a few words towards the elf, who her senses read was called “Vermilion Nightveil” and was sent here by some guy who likes seeing things.
“Hey now, that's not polite, calling a guy out like that. This isn't the Wild West, you know. I already know yours, but my name is Halinn Celera. Pleasure to meet you.”
Halinn sent a quick thought to Josh. “I'll leave the main stuff up to you. He called you out, right? I'll sit back and do a bit of ranged harassment, aha.” She worked her influence into the ground around them, readying for an attack, or defense, whichever was needed first.
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Post by geraven on Mar 1, 2015 5:15:32 GMT
“Seer, eh? Well, I hope you’re ready for this…” That was when Halinn arrived with her shots aimed at the elf’s chest. Her psychic powers were really something. Not to mention her telepathy would make it easy for them to coordinate. Josh smiled that he had a little back-up just in case, and at the moment the sky began to darken as thunderclouds pulled together overhead. Lightning crackled and thunder boomed as the ninja drew a kunai attached to a chain from his pouch. “Let’s see whatcha got, huh, kid?”
Flashes of yellow light appeared at the two side kunai as a pair of clones appeared and rushed in at Vermilion with curved daggers drawn in their hands. They criss-crossed each other numerous times until they reached the elf and moved around him to get at his back. From the back, Josh threw the kunai with pinpoint accuracy towards the elf at high speeds as the 80-ft. chain slid through his barely open off-hand. He was prepared to grab it at a moment’s notice for whatever reason. It would have appeared in the face of Vermilion after the last cross by the clones, for a distraction to keep him from noticing.
”Halinn, prepare the rounds for an escape. I’m sure he’ll try to dodge up. That’s where we’ll get him.”
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Post by Vermilion Nightveil on Mar 1, 2015 5:47:47 GMT
Hmm... A two pronged attack. Clever of them, but not clever enough. The elf thought, his eyes closing with a sign of surrender, or so it would seem at a first glance. The lightning on his hands became a loud shriek, and shaped like a blade. It was a blade not meant for fighting, though. Two quick hand swipes created two gates in front of him to defend where his chest was and send the projectiles back at the female. Of course his primary target would attempt to aim at his back. It was natural for someone to think that someone's blind spot was their back. Instead of the clones completing their tasks, he rolled to the side and turn slashed their legs, making them pop, or collapse, or whatever they would do, and forcing his primary goal to fail horribly.
Dark mist surrounded Vermilion's free hand this time, and fire surrounded the occupied hand. His irises would slowly turn a bluish-white, and as the change took over, his pupils slowly shrunk to the bare minimum diameter. "Boring..."
<Check>
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Post by geraven on Mar 1, 2015 6:14:49 GMT
Ah. So that’s his shtick. Elements as well, huh? This was going to be boring. The clones actually dodged the attack against them as the chain moved suddenly, and made the kunai snake around. Simultaneously, multiple walls of earth rose around the pair of Halinn and Josh to block the bullets he attempted to reflect back. He had a good feel as to where his opponent was, and the clones weren’t as weak as the elf would think. Bolts of electricity crackled some more in the sky as stray bolts crashed down near the copies and the elf as the pair avoided his attack by side-flipping into the air. Immediately after, they manipulated the air to compress and create a platform to kick off of, which broke the sound barrier as they launched towards the lanky elven elementalist in a spinning rotation with their blades out in front. Their goal? To slice through the man and make him dead. It would be a miracle for him to dodge it, but the kunai chain was still in motion just in case. Josh was prepared to manipulate it towards the elf as soon as he dodged. If he didn’t…well, the weapon would continue to circle around the fighters because Josh wouldn’t chance anything happening to his new weapon.
”Whatcha gonna do, huh?” The ninja thought to himself?
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Post by Vermilion Nightveil on Mar 1, 2015 7:02:07 GMT
A miracle to dodge? Not in the slightest. He knew where the clones were at all times and kept his peripheral vision on the kunai-and-chain, or kept it until he was ready to make his move.The time was ticking and he had to time this perfectly, or he would get put in a tight spot. The kunai got closer, the clones closed in on him, right before they made contact with him, however, the mist scattered and he used teleportation to appear at the rear of both ninjas. The clones and kunai made contact with each other, the clones struck each other down and the kunai impaled them.
At the rear:
The fire on his main hand raced up the weapon and super-heated the metal, protected by enchantments, started to vibrate from the pressure around it. The heat would probably be noticed but it would be too late once they did. Both targets were too focused on where he would have been a few seconds earlier, this was a known fact, and Vermilion quickly spun and made two slashes at the backs of his opponents. What slim chance they had of dodging was quite literally, slim to none. One of them, if not both, would die from deep slashes to their backs that would gape wide and burning alive from the flames of the sword that struck them.
<Checkmate>
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Post by Lest on Mar 1, 2015 8:53:07 GMT
Out of sight, out of mind. Considering Eal had “apparently” done nothing there was no reason to target him. The rest fought and Eal waited. But for what? That would ultimately be revealed some time later on. There was little in the way of his plans. Completing his self assigned mission was definitely within his grasp and at the end of the day that’s all he cared about really. Still, despite him having that outlook Eal was very much irritated.
He wasn’t particularly thrilled to not have gotten his drink. Though there were other bars in the area Eal had a tendency to not let things go. No matter how miniscule the offense might be. He was pretty far away from the commotion now but rest assured he would not forget about this.
Actually he was much further away than last seen initially but he still had a pretty good view from a roof top. His eyes would fine-tune accordingly. The longer he glared down towards the enormous gap left from Ishidas attack the angrier he internally became. Smoke even developed on the top of his dome but externally he was pokerfaced, waiting for his hand he supposed. Maybe.
Though the rest we’re not weary of it traces of him were relatively everywhere. Within the bar his tendency to place his somewhat bizarre and invisible wires everywhere did him well. They pretty much tipped him of to everyone’s movements so he could divert his attention accordingly. Before he even appeared he had already set them everywhere he reasonably could. On the walls, tables, chairs, heck, he even tried to put several on a few people but in the aftermath of the destruction most were torn and deep in the ground.
He could reconnect the majority and that’s what he’d do but the target was a bit more of a mystery. Considering the ever expanding wires were deeply rooted beneath the urban battlefield there was no telling who they might go towards or even if they had a specific target at all. They were very much chain like in appearance now. A brief tremor appeared initially as a result but it might be pinned as a product of the arrival of the eccentric effeminate man. His arrival was much of an anomaly as all of this was to him but it was apparent that he wasn’t another member of the rowdy space crew.
His voice began to echo Eal’s his head and he’d receive every word of it until he was struck yet again by the sensation of a message aside from that being conveyed to him. It was from a similar omnipotent force. It abruptly told him “NO.” drowning out the voice entirely. With a psionic tug of war momentarily going on in his head he spoke to assumingly to the A.I. still with him.
“Quick…”
Anyone else in this situation might have lost it in this challenge of sanity but the most important question here was why Eal. Obviously someone knew what he really was within. They wanted a piece of it. But at what cost?
“Shits definitely about to go down…”
Still determined, Eal continued what would ultimately be seen as immature antics. Though Eal was in plain sight he’d start actions that what would universally be considered petty. Despite this his mission was closer to progressing. How was that? He was just out in the open(pretty far from the battlefield) fiddling his hands loosely. For his designated transport the opposite could be said.
Where was his ship actually? It could be anywhere within New Babylon for all anyone knew. Even cyberspace. As ridiculous as that sounded the artificial A.I. controlling the ship had taken another form and a portion set off from the ship in secret. The platinum liquid crept its way through the streets of Babylon in absolute stealth, seeping through cracks and pipes. It was completely under the radar and it wouldn’t be long before it would reach is first checkpoint, a mere street light.
Finding a street light wasn’t the biggest feat but it was pretty useful in the current scope of what it was trying to acheieve. Slowly seeping its way about and on the pole, it ripped the bolts that held it down out like a nascar pit stop. All it did was submerge it yet such force was generated. Next, leaking on to the wires, it penetrated them, doing something that could only be described as feeling the city out.
Starting with theses wires the mysterious ooze absorbed energy and sent it out accordingly. It did so in search of the next power source and so on and so on. Creating numerous sparks around the city, it used those sparks (more like bolts) to spread to the next source and repeated it constantly. In no time at all its influence would spread throughout the entire city. The platinum ooze could pinpoint each electrical socket in the entirety of New Babylon if it was asked. The terrifying part of this all was how fluidity in which it was conducted. In spite of how gigantic the city was nothing earthly could be deemed impossible for the supercomputer conscious of Panident.
Mentally it had begun to use the greatest asset of PRIME. In seconds the A.I. had become informed not only where ample energy was but the entire layout of the monumental city. It almost worked like Echolocation but through electrical impulses. By no mistake computers were hit as well. It actually didn’t matter which either. All that mattered was that Panident had access to the World Wide Web. If it came down to it he’d reach it through WiFi. He was that adaptive.
It was quick and by surprise. Straightforwardly an attack became launched on Aesirs entire network and they wouldn’t even know it. Partially because nothing would appear to change at all. This was not something mere coding or some steroid version of government antivirus (Lol) could stop. All data could be overwritten and altered to his liking. Nothing was visibly done but entire web would be converted into an extension of the A.I’s consciousness. He had pretty much become the internet and there would be a tenfold increase in performance because of it globally. Think of it as his gift for becoming a host.
This was indeed a task that exceeded the known technological and digital continuum but Panident was relatively unknown to most of the universe. Not many knew of his existence but it was likely he heard of them. The people of the Aesir empire would not know of the A.I. but very quickly he’d know about them. He’d know about their culture, history, establishments, government, military tactics, defenses and most importantly geography seeing as that was what he came for. The rest were just perks. Whether they’d be put to use in combat had yet to be revealed.
Mission Accomplished right?
Probably not.
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Post by Killiak on Mar 1, 2015 19:20:17 GMT
{BGM: "Seven Nation Army"}Things got a little screwy after the bar had effectively been reduced to a smoldering crater, and as fortune would have it the intended victims of his attack survived. The mage and his doll, the odd fellow practically perched on Crim's shoulder, even the obnoxious Halinn managed to crawl out of there unscathed. Ishida's amusement wasn't spoiled out of some sense of failure, he was still laughing, more so now because of Halinn's silly outburst. Drawing on the cigarette in his mouth, Ishida's dull maroon eyes scanned the area without so much as flinching. The mage wasted little time with charging the group, but as the warping of the air in the area manifested, Ishida showed no intention of interfering with the imminent attack on ol' Crim. The guy was perfectly capable of defending himself, and the only reason he had ripped him and Elyk out of the bar along with him was out of courtesy. Of course, that wasn't to say Elyk would do the same, the General choosing to unleash a devastating mass insta-cast of his materia arsenal. The whole thing went off without a hitch, and it was at that relative moment that Ishida found himself under attack by a new arrival. Immediately, his lips spread wide with excitement resulting in the cigarette falling from his grasp. When it hit the ground, it began to burn down much more quickly. Halinn removed herself from the scene, darting off to aid Yggdrasil Crew's resident ninja extraordinaire and avoiding the incoming crescent-like vacuum blades that were manifested out of chi. In the Super Demon's current state, he hadn't been able to exactly see them physically but there were other means for identifying the (or any other) incoming attack that were of that particular nature. Means such as an acute awareness of the surroundings, the displacement of atmospheric gases a tell-tale sign that only few individuals in his experience had successfully managed to conceal. Means also such as the imminent threat on his well-being, the untold legions of souls imprisoned within his being already stirring since the moment he'd ignited his cigarette. It took a particular nature of psychotic mind to cope with the incessant screaming echoing throughout his head. Their stirring always intensified when Ishida came under attack, working as sort of an indirect warning system. One particular side-effect was that there was simply too much going on up there for anyone else to force their way in, as if that could be done in the first place. When it was all said and done however, the Super Demon didn't ever rely on those he reigned over. Standing abreast of the Captain of the ol' Crew and the General of SOLDIER, Ishida was already watching for a reason for him to move. First, with Crim's release of the ether-pockets scattered all over the damn place between their position and the bar, Ishida determined that staying put was acceptable. Secondly, with Elyk's attack, the collective areas of effect put him in a questionable position as he did not care to be anywhere near the casting of magic on that level. The amalgam of protective barriers and buffing magic hit him like a truck, though, displaying his susceptibility to magic for all to see. While offensive spells posed greater threat than the intent of their caster typically harbored, the same could be said toward supportive magic. There was no complex weight system, Ishida's body responded one way and one way only to magic--and that was over-sensitive. It was widely known, but often forgotten. Spending so much time raising his other means of ethereal power had the second objective of providing him the means to shield or simply overpower his way through an enemy assault. That being displayed for all to see in New Babylon gave them their one and only hope at stopping the Super Demon when he would inevitably decide to get started. Simply raising his left arm, hand wide open, Ishida released a series of black cylindrical cords no larger in diameter than his fingertips on a path with the assailant their finish line. They unfurled with rapidly increasing speed, cutting through and dispelling the concentrated chi-blades on contact, and continued until nearly skewering the blades' source through the face. Stopping four feet shy of the guy, Ishida manipulated the Reaver's Cord to fan out into a rather threatening cage-like shape. The Ripper Syndrome was responsible for annihilating the blades through a burst-activation of anti-ether, which typically only worked if Ishida was able to determine the type of ether he was dealing with beforehand. Quite frankly, to a seasoned bloodthirsty psychopathic murder like him, the swelling of chi was mere child's play for him to detect. At that moment when he'd overcome the sneaky rascal's attack, Ishida reached his right hand up to his hip and stepped forward. Without calling on some sort of chi-based movement enhancement, the Super Demon cut the distance between himself and his new attacker down to a quarter of what it previously had been in well beneath a second's span thanks in large order to the Haste spell. Slow when compared to the shenanigans put on by Captain Firecrotch and his doll-friend, but it was enough to take him out of the trajectory of the loud-mouth with the gun who'd just dropped in out of nowhere-land. This solitary, simple act was Ishida's way of telling his opponent(s) that his greatest asset was nothing other than his raw physical prowess. As he stopped just a few meters away from them, the Super Demon's hedgehog-esque mane glimmered with a sheen like folded silk accompanied by the sound of metal grinding together. By the time he'd shortened the distance the discarded cigarette had burned down to the filter and exploded. That particular cigarette had been infused with more of his demonic blood (as in his own, not another's) and by lighting the smoke with his chi, provided it with the catalyst it needed to combust in as violent manner as it could. Thanks to the efforts of Crim and company or perhaps his own manipulative hand, the cigarette had been blown astray to the nearby building adjacent to where the bar was. Ishida was pleased to hear the yammering of some hooligan with a gun in that general area, causing him to laugh yet again as the entire block was slammed with a wave of raw, un-aligned ether. The nearest building to the bar was leveled in an instant, while the remaining four establishments were subsequently leveled in less impressive manner. Clearly, the first one got the worst of it and the rest of the effect was some pretty potent collateral damage. As the blast went off, Ishida dismissed his Reaver's Cords and closed his right hand around the handle of his kodachi on his hip that he'd gone and summoned, much in the same way Crim had done with his Kijinjiraden. Naturally, Ishida's left hand fell to grip the handle of the twin kodachi on his left hip. "I take it these two are mine to consume?"
"Yeah, but let's see what they've got first. Think of it like foreplay, it's no fun if it's over too quickly!"
"Whatever, the end result is all I care for. Have your fun, but don't waste my time."The dialogue trapped within his mind between himself and the sentience within his blades spanned less than a second in real-time, the two sharing a bond that went unrivaled by previous holders. Following the explosion not too far from them, Ishida pulled the kodachi from their swirled, mixed black and red metallic scabbards. Flipping them forward within his palm, he held them downward and angled in front of him toward the two before him, while his arms remained shoulder width apart. The Overlord, as the weapon was known, commanded the appreciation of its audience purely in its beauty. In that beauty rests an insatiable thirst for the souls and ether of its enemies. "Well, you've got my attention." Ishida's leg swept forward and up with unannounced suddenness, releasing a towering column of bright blue chi directly aimed at crushing, vaporizing, or just pummeling the one whom had dropped into the city with three companions. Bursting forward with haste, the ground quaked and the air shuddered around them, thereby shattering the windows of that particular street buildings, all in response to the pure force in the demon bastard's kick--but it didn't end there. Balanced on his left foot, specifically the ball of his foot, Ishida spun clockwise while keeping his arms in their lowered position, effectively shielding his pivoting leg. Coming nearly to a circle in but a fraction of a second, Ishida dropped his foot in a vicious axe-kick. Executing a force-displacement technique in his second kick, the ground directly beneath Mr. chi-blades was cracked wide open in an instant. One moment the boy found himself standing on solid ground with naught more to concern him than the rumbling previously mentioned, and in the next he found a ten foot diameter, ten foot deep hole opened beneath him. While it wasn't decidedly life threatening on its own, Ishida sprang forward at just below the speed of sound with his right kodachi positioned horizontally, held perpendicular in respect to his forearm. Before the boy would have fully fallen into the hole, Ishida's blade would drink from his throat or perhaps a leg if he managed to jump. For now, the sword's absorbing effect was suppressed in order to keep the attack on a strictly physical level. Ishida's combined assault brought him to a stop some ten meters behind the position his new targets were standing when he opened up his attack. As though he weighed some astronomical number of pounds, Ishida's right foot that he'd put down to stop himself carved into the asphalt of the city streets like a hot knife through butter, crumpling everything beneath him until the lamp-posts of the street all started falling like dominos. For now, he kept his back toward his enemies as everything he saw turned into an assortment of dull gray hues. Clearly, he wasn't the least bit concerned with the others' battles, setting his targets on the two--possibly six people intending to take him out for whatever reason. [OOC: Riku, Loki & Phantom feel free to PM me any questions you might have. I got distracted mid stride on this one.]
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sole
New Member
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Post by sole on Mar 2, 2015 2:01:29 GMT
Herd mentality, or mob mentality, describes how people are influenced by their peers to adopt certain behaviors, follow trends, and/or purchase items. Examples of the herd mentality include stock market trends, superstition, home décor, etc. Social psychologists study the related topics of group intelligence, crowd wisdom, and decentralized decision making.
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Sole watched the ongoing battle that raged on Xelphia with discontent. There was no surprise on his face. No, it was to be expected that the presence of this many powerful beings, this many egos and this much angst would create this whirlwind of rage, destruction and pain. There was no regard for the innocent population of Xelphia. Those that had nothing to do with the engagement of the rival factions. The cataclysm did bring others though. Those that seemed to thrive on confrontation and battle.
Sole left things alone for awhile. He had no real desire to get involved and tried his best to avoid it. He even gave a warning, that par for the egos involved, went unheard. He debated to himself about how to handle the situation, as it quickly grew out of hand. Should he erase it all from existence? No, that would not do the lives of those caught in the crossfires justice. Should he let them make their own mistakes and simply leave? Maybe. His role was not one to police altercations. As he pondered this, a glimmer caught his eye.
A solitary sword flung from Xelphia pierced the atmosphere. This was certainly a feat of strength. A blade of this size thrown with such force and accuracy. Sole assumed it was accurate anyhow, though why anyone would purposely throw a tangible item into the Nether was beyond him. Could this be an attack on his person? As the tip of the blade pierced the vast darkness Sole raised a curious eyebrow. Inch by inch the blade succumbed to the darkness until it faded from existence, much like the star before it.
What happened next was to be expected given the nature of the void. Nothing happened. Whatever gambit was planned by the sacrificed sword did not play out as expected by it's owner. This was enough to anger Sole though. This was enough to tip the scales of his judgement. He was careful with his power. He never let his anger overwhelm his sense of duty and he would not allow it to happen now, but lessons did have to be learned. The void in the atmosphere that slowly grew before, as a symbol of his earlier promise, spread immensely. In a matter of moments it was large enough to engulf the entire planet of Xelphia and with a wave of Sole's hand it did just that. As the void engorged itself on Xelphia, piece by piece, a light grey aura surrounded everything on the planet just ahead of the devouring darkness.
Sole's aura allowed everything it touched to pass safely through his realm, the Nether. Moments later Xelphia reappeared unharmed with all of it's citizens and infrastructure intact, aside from those that had already been killed and the buildings that had already been destroyed by the battle. The only missing element were those involved in the confrontation. All of the immensely powerful beings simply disappeared. The planet itself was rightfully in a state of panic, but they had an opportunity to rebuild. That was the best Sole could do for them.
So what of the other beings? Were they trapped? Faded from existence like the unfortunate star or the blade that crossed the dark threshold? No. They were just removed from the planet, separated for their own good. Sole understood that this war had to happen. Otherwise, it would just rage on throughout countless universes until there was little left, but despair. The combatants would get their wish.
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The members of the Yggdrasil and their allies, to include Crim el Furaga, Josh Melidan, General Elyk, Halinn, Ishida Sol and Darcy were forced from the void onto a planet that was uninhabited. At one point the planet thrived, but nuclear war left it absent and barren. Some structures, degraded still adorned with a coat of ash, remained. It was only within the last hundred years the planet was safe to explore. Sole thought a sight like this was a fitting reminder for the powerful cohorts.
Approximately 400 meters away the remnants of Havoc were forced out in much the same way. Law, Vincent, Loki, Riku, Vermillion, Eal and Xeta were exposed to similar surroundings. This way the two groups could have their battle, a victor could be determined and no others would have to mourn their dead.
The being known as Crash, was also set adrift on the ruined planet. Left to himself it would be up to him to decide what he would do next. Would he choose to side with the Yggdrasil after the attack from Loki or would he choose anarchy and decide to attack both sides? That was yet to be seen.
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On the farthest reaches of the universe was another planet, much smaller than the other and made up mostly of water. Obviously, the planet was habitable, but there were no native people to this land. It was young, in terms of planets. It could be considered a paradise one day. That would depend on how things would play out between the two combatants that were left here: The legendary swordsman, Dias Blade and the powerhouse Adell. The two stood within earshot of one another, on a deserted island with small outlines of foliage and the occasional bird.
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On a separate, vacant planet surrounded by a single moon the android Cee and the vile Lysander stood on opposite sides of a vast forest. The two had plenty of obstructions that forced them apart, but for two entities with such strength it would not be long before they clashed, at the unfortunate undoing of the foliage no doubt.
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But, what of the newcomer? Charlie and his angels? The one that would pick a fight with the darkness? The group was forced out of the void onto a planet with two moons, due to this the planet was more prone to darkness than light. A setting that Sole was more than familiar with. He stood across the the group and tilted his head curiously. His left hand rested on the sword at his side, as a warning perhaps or maybe it was just comfortable. He let the group examine their surroundings before he spoke.
"You who enjoy chaos so much. Tell me. What did you plan to prove by attacking me? Hmm?"
Sole's monotone voice was mild and not tinged with anger. He gazed at them with swirling dark orbs and awaited an answer, or an attack or a plea. Whatever happened to come next.
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Post by Beramode on Mar 2, 2015 3:19:45 GMT
Part I: Do You Even Read Bro?
Sole was neither the first nor would he be the last god, aspect, eidolon, archetype, or otherwise divine being to try and confront Beramode. His existence was an anathema to an otherwise orderly, if not somewhat divided, Omniverse so it made sense that they all inevitably turned their gaze his way. In Sole’s defense it was the madman who had taken the first swing this time but being on the moral right was no guarantee of success and the result for Griff was the same as it always had been.
The Kaiser Effect kicked in
That great and sudden attempt at sweeping everyone off of Xelphia failed astoundingly. It might have worked if Sole had picked his targets but his problem had been attempting to do so with a single wave of his divine hand as though there was nothing in this reality or any other that could defy him. The attempt rebounded back and Sole was kicked off to some distant world with two orbiting moons and very little light without anyone being the wiser.
No fireworks, no flash, no nothing save for the fact that once where there had been Griff there was no one. Sole was lucky that his attempt hadn’t been a deadly one otherwise he might have woken up with a lot more than a headache worthy of his divine status from the backlash.
“Hey, old man. That wasn’t very smart.” Hakurei popped her head in from around a bend in the universe that accounted for an unseen portal. “Why is it that all you gods fall for the same stupid mistakes? What happened to omnipotence? So what are you, another version of Death?”
“Boring...” Hakurei didn’t seem all that put off when she raised her hand for a great and clearly disapproving yawn. On the back of her hand glowing leylines began to etch themselves into her flesh taking a form vaguely reminiscent of a rune.
Part II: The Price of Ignorance
Meanwhile back on Xelphia the blade Insominum slammed back to the surface. The great and terrible weapon had been specifically designed with the death and imprisonment of the divine in mind and with the ability to cut through energy forms. Whether Sole acknowledged it or not, energy was energy, no matter if the source came from the Nether or from the Void or from the Asscrack of the Almighty himself. Nor were these energy sources as unique as he had convinced himself, death was a common champion in many a Verse and Death in its many forms had challenged Beramode more than once and been trumped easily. Meanwhile Beramode had such a unique understanding of the Void that he had actually gone to lengths to craft a Void for himself.
After all where did Caitlyn come from? What about asses you ask? We don’t talk about Super Toilet but needless to say it too had happened.
Brobdingnag appeared and like an air raid siren his telekinetic blast blared throughout Darius. Most people on the planet were coherent enough to defend themselves from the attempt but three in particular were caught by the blast; Crim el Furaga, Josh Meliden, and Elyk Adalai were hit with the proverbial truck that was Brobdingnag’s brain. For a mortal the blast would have melted their brains in their skulls but luckily they were all pretty tough cats so it more likely than not just slapped the slapped the stupid out of them and left them dazed.
It would however be an opening that would give their enemies the perfect chance to take advantage of them. There were a few others whose brains had lagged so much that Brobdingnag had not reached them yet but hopefully they would learn the lesson from those who were now on their knees vomiting up their organs or whatever it was that constituted that for them.
A few others would have probably been vaporized by it but they were lucky to have appeared late.
Part III: Journey to the Center of the World
Icura whipped around, pausing in her march alongside Beramode and with a twist of her hips she sent a kick skimming along the ground. An invisible blast of force followed it, carving a deep trench in the street and the surrounding buildings; it would defend the duo from anything that happened to come their way like perhaps the temper tantrum of a particularly angry ape or anyone else who was interested in Beramode’s appearance. Whatever force it was that came their way was met with equal resistance and would invariably dissipate against Icura’s sudden outpouring of ether.
Then she turned on and kept walking like nothing happened. Beramode sure didn’t care and Magilla Gorilla found eating babies more appetizing. Mere moments earlier he had kicked Hakurei off of Xelphia, sending her flying off to another corner of the universe with a little gift and a mission to do away with some trash.
“I was hoping for something of a warmer reception.” Beramode chipped in. In the back of his mind he acknowledge another two entries, they just kept showing up didn’t they!
Panident emerged from space, the strange machine was known to Beramode only because of his violent exploits. Merse had been clever to hide the god killer that was Panident from him, at least for now, but this was much more important than a game of chess between a cat and a snake. Meanwhile Law also emerged from space and the appearance of the Rapid Gun was truly pleasing, once upon a time Asimov had been standing in Beramode’s place with a younger Beramode playing the part of the black cat Merse. Their game of chess had been quite extensive, it wasn’t quite over yet, and in that time he had seen the mighty of the Gunslingers.
Interesting. The three of them would have to sit down and have some tea later but for now it was time to do business.
Despite everything that happened no one deemed it worthwhile to come after Beramode himself, a terrible mistake. With a pursing of his lips and a sudden whistle a great portal opened in the sky, the bloody goddess Chidea emerged once more, this time in the form of a giant angry fist. She thrust her knuckles into the closest city blocks and in a manner almost comical she flattened them. It was almost comical until one considered the immense strength that it would take to transform a three dimensional structure into something so thoroughly flat that it would have taken an excavation team to find a trace of their existence.
“Thank you love.” Beramode said in a tone almost playful. A slight smile on his lips. “Well then, let us begin!”
Yes, Beramode had cleared a massive excavation site on Xelphia some hundred or so miles from the fight currently taking place. There was a short lag before moments later a great drill appeared overhead in much the same manner the bloody hand had. Then it drove into the center of the site, drilling its way through the ground at a rate that was quite frankly astounding, in a blink it was gone leaving a gaping hole with the sides spiraling downwards and the stones steaming where it had passed.
“Awful useful that bride of yours.” Icura said with a smirk, leaning herself against the nearest building.
“Isn’t she though.” Beramode swept his fingers back and forth, plucking away at the thousands of strings that lined the air. His fingers danced to the sound of an invisible tune and the vibrations followed through the strings, filling the air with a tune not unlike a melody. He was a conductor, silently ordaining a thousand coordinated movements at once, sometimes directly and sometimes indirectly, all the while as casual as a man taking a stroll through the park.
Every pluck he released a bit of the Warp. Corrupting the presence that was Dias inside every string, in every sword, twisting it with a relentless ever changing assault on an ethereal level that would strip the Last Child of Azure of his toys. Well he wasn’t the last but it sounded nice didn’t it? Dias would have a bit of time to realize what was happening, after all Beramode was taking his sweet time here, so maybe a few extra seconds. By the time the quiet ticking of his strings would reach DIas the foul presence of the Warp would be upon him, leaping out hungrily for the source of so much energy, swathing him in an incandescent flame. It was of a color that could not quite be understood by the mind of mortals but on the material plane for the brief instant men could look upon it without feeling the madness encroach upon their minds it would appear shades of deep purple and blue.
Ironic that.
Part IV: Meanwhile In Space…
Without anyone to stop him Brobdingnag probed his tentacles throughout space, molesting every piece of technology he came across and crushing it in his mighty grasp. The battleship Yggdrasil was left conveniently untouched for his master had a great interest in them, though now would be ideal to attack since they too had neglected to defend themselves from the omnipresent blare that was his psychic will upon this plane. But he ignored Yggdrasil and he ignored the other four planets of the Darius system for now. The beast’s long arms seemed to be groping through the void, crooked fingers clawing in the direction of the single star that supported the Darius system. Already his mind and his soul were beginning to spill into the star and corrupt it in the name of the Domination.
If someone didn’t stop him soon bad things would happen. But if one couldn’t will the Domination away how could they hope to win? Maybe if they had the balls to take a swing but that was too much to ask for.
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Post by Dirge on Mar 2, 2015 16:50:06 GMT
Well, everything had happened the way things usually occurred. Point A always led into point B unless, by some sort of otherworldly force, the line between the two was altered, broken, or distorted. To say that Vincent manipulated reality wasn’t exactly too far from being accurate, but the fact of the matter is that nothing of the sort had taken place in the midst of his movement. The magister’s mind and conscious had reacted accordingly to the events unfolding in the space around him just as they had been reacting in accordance to the things going on across the entirety of Xelphia to begin with. His mental map did not discriminate, his senses did not choose what to see or feel; nothing escaped him as long as it was in the catch-all range of the amalgamation of skills that passively acted upon his body. Not even the bar owner who had been taking a shit in his bathroom minutes before the whole thing blew up or the oddly enticing smooth corners of the objects around the area. Someone had been playing with the anti-aliasing setting a bit too much. Or maybe that’s how things were in Xelphia.
But this wasn’t anything surprising. This wasn’t anything exclusive to beings possessing immense power. This was a basic ability that even common humans with a modicum of supernatural powers in their veins could attain. The sensing of energy of all kinds was not a skill limited to a select few, instead being widespread across the Multiverse and the Omniverse among many of their denizens. And for Vincent, it was a basic technique that had been perfected. It was only Vincent’s constant training over the years, the constant development and refining of his techniques along with focus, concentration, and enhancement of his senses and reflexes what had allowed him to react to an attack executed at the speed of light, simply because his mind and conscious had evolved beyond the limits of normal humans. And that was obvious, considering that, from birth, Vincent had never been a normal human to begin with!
The sequence of events was clear as day: Vincent rushed toward Crim in midair, ether projectiles burst forth from the ground before approaching the magister at the speed of light, Vincent reacted to these projectiles through moving out of the way, and finally attempted to crash into Crim. Of course, there was more to it in every single instance, but that was the general gist of the events recorded somewhere in the Multiverse. However, there would be nothing more than disappointment in the faces of Crim and Elyk when they’d notice that none of their attacks reached their intended outcomes.
First of all, there had been no traces of spacetime magic in what the magister had done. The speed technique known as the Suodi relied solely on basic linear physics, but also borrowed from special relativity, being analogous to Lorentz’ contraction. The space around Vincent never folded. What remained contracted were the leylines of the planet which, in turn, had an immediate effect on the distance of the two affected points between them. It was all a matter of perception rather than magic involving spatial distortion. That dealt with a different branch of magic that he didn’t feel like tapping unto at the moment. Mainly because it would screw with the all-too-real environment around them. But, hey, if Elyk wanted to try and mess around with that, then the magister would oblige! After all, the only thing the Fiorelli needed to do to prevent the space around him from being messed with was let loose a minimal pulse of gravity magic around him, just a little bit of meddling with warping space-time without a mass or object medium. If the general of SOLDIER didn't think something of the sort was going to be felt and intercepted by the magister, he was damn wrong. In short, Elyk’s interference simply fell short against the subtle creation of a micro-black hole that surfaced and disappeared in the blink of an eye to render his spatial distortion entirely useless. Either way, nothing of the sort managed to even affect him as he darted through the air and through the afterimage that Crim had left behind. But to assume that he’d stop there would be a foolish notion.
No, the magister continued flying at terminal velocity for a while, avoiding the Ignas Array Beams raining down from the planet’s orbit. There was little need to do anything else at the moment, seeing as how the ether spikes that supposedly would have blown up around him had slammed into the immense release of magical power coming from Elyk’s materia. Since, you know, all of those spells ended up screwing with the spot where Vincent had previously been before managing to dodge the first ether spike. If the bar’s explosion had been regarded as intense, the show of fireworks coming from the collision of these grandiose quantities of power was probably nothing short of a miniature supernova. See… If there was one thing about these vast releases of raw energy that was relevant to Vincent, that was the ease with which one could garner their power.
While Elyk had his materia and Crim his “traps” and speed, Vincent simply possessed a natural aptitude for dealing with energy; it didn’t matter what type of energy it was. All that mattered to him was if he could use it.
Vincent gradually slowed down after the onslaught from the Ignas Array Beams stopped, undoubtedly leaving behind a trail of destruction far and wide enough to encompass several dozen city blocks in a straight line... Across the entirety of Xelphias. At the speed he had been moving, he would have easily spun around the Earth's equator about eight or nine times in just one second. It wasn't farfetched to say that, in the midst of his dash, he had scoured every bit of Xelphias and then some. He had obviously looped around after that just to position himself at a relatively safe distance from the countless explosions of the ether spikes meshing and mixing with the raw magical energy of the release of power within Elyk’s array of materia. Somewhere in the midst of Vincent’s flight, the remaining portion of mana stored in his right hand was consumed in order for a pair of odd glyphs with a tribal design to practically pop out from the back of his hands before stretching all the way down his forearms until they stopped growing at the elbows. The once pale skin took on a darker, seemingly tan shade but his silver hair didn’t see any changes for the time being, the long flowing locks simply cascading down his shoulders and back. This was a technique only a handful of people managed to lay their eyes on, something that usually constituted one of the magister’s trump cards. But the situation was perfect for it…
The vast amounts of energy tearing through the air begged for the Halfling to tap unto the power of Magia Erebea.
This particular spell was the culmination of hundreds of years of study within the magic school Vincent employed. The theories revolving around it elaborated on the darkness and its origin; it explained how the dark was not the opposite of the light, but an immense, all-encompassing power that devours even that which opposes it. To perfect said technique, one had to find themselves beyond the shadows, confronting their dark selves. The Halfling had been at war with his demonic counterpart for years on end, and every use of Magia Erebea further drove him closer to the darkness in his heart. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before that part of him surfaced to suppress his conscious, at least for a little while. But that was only a possibility every time he tapped upon this type of magic. The reason why he had done this was, again, as clear as day.
Magia Erebea allowed the magister to embrace the ultimate purpose of dark magic onto himself, like embracing death itself and being born anew. The procession of death and rebirth was the secret behind the ultimate spell within the forbidden branch of dark magic. With this, Vincent could take in the ‘power’ of his enemies and make it his own. The energy running rampant through the air was drawn toward the palms of the magister’s open hands, filtering through the layer of darkness caressing them. The process of purification spread throughout the entire mini supernova, freeing it from any shackles the energy could have been bound to, and sinking deeply within the magister’s own body and soul. In short, Vincent was guzzling up all the energy unleashed by Elyk and Crim with the sole intention to minimize the damage to the environment and, and on a more relevant note, to increase his own power manyfold.
While Crim had fled the battlefield and remained huddled in some corner of Xelphia – or whatever was dubbed Xelphia at the moment, given the volatile environment they had been given –, both he and Elyk would find a momentary respite in the magister’s assault to properly greet his adoptive father. For all intents and purposes, the Halfling made use of a telepathic connection that was already established, tapping upon it with relative ease to speak with both Beramode and the misfit that he hadn’t seen in one hell of a long time.
“Like hell you’ll use my tower for your parties! That’s a place for research, not celebrating.” Vincent chimed in with hearty laughter escaping him. “But I’m sure I can make an exception or two. You two have been missing for a while. It’s good to see that you’re still kickin’. Let’s catch up on stuff later, mmkay?”
Of course, Vincent already knew they were alive and well. The Secret Library of Hyades constantly informed him of most events that took place across the entirety of the Multiverse and Omniverse, and then some. While the Library wasn’t as extensive or as intrusive as the Akashic Records hiding somewhere out there, it was a hub of constantly growing knowledge and information where data from every single universe was pulled from and recorded for future generations. It was the perfect place for someone like him.
Beramode’s Kaiser Effect was sure to stop the tampering of the environment by divinities and the sheer manipulation of reality that these would cause, effectively rendering the interference of the otherworldly being in Xelphia’s atmosphere ineffective. And for his own part, the magister had already begun to weave his own threads of influence through the current plane of existence. The power he had absorbed from Crim and Elyk was just the catalyst for what was about to come next. A small portion of said power – which was quite gargantuan to begin with – was shared with his allies once he’d managed to near the group comprised of his adoptive father Pendragon the Lesser and the Queen of Vampires Icura Miu.
The antics of Vermilion Nightveil and Josh Meliden couldn’t be any less interesting to the magister. That one Halinn girl seemed to have a little bit of fight in her but she was most likely lumped with the pair. As for Eal and Panident, the Halfling was sure their presence would culminate into something sooner or later; whether that was for good or bad was yet to be seen. The Super Demon Ishida was probably the most interesting out of them all but Vincent did not feel like analyzing his capabilities in combat by engaging him just yet. But there was still someone else to greet – someone who the magister had been at odds with in years past but whose stance had shifted over the years to the point of becoming a friendly acquaintance.
“Lysander Telos Korvein. Cute nickname you’ve got there, Dunk Squad Blue. Careful with that robot girl. Last time I called her that, she almost blew me up in the middle of a barren planet.” All of the magister’s telepathic links had been secured through magical means, but that was obvious for anyone who knew him. After all, he never left anything up to chance.
“Let’s see here…”
With a swift flick of his right hand’s wrist, runes of many forms and kinds etched themselves into the ground underneath Pendragon, Miu, and Fiorelli, covering at least a hundred meters around the three of them. Thick lines denoted the borders of a circle as multiple trigrams, pentagrams, hexagrams, and other assortments of magical symbols filled the area of said circle. The diversity of the magister to switch from offense to defense, and from defense to support amongst other possible roles was what often marked him as a force to be reckoned with. In this case, he was laying the groundwork for an array of defensive spells on the outer layers of the boundary while the inner area was about to be utilized to aid his allies.
There was one more thing to be done. For the time being, the final telepathic message was directed towards the general of SOLDIER that had so liberally tapped unto his materia to fire spell after spell toward the magister. Spells that had ended up hitting absolutely nothing but Crim’s spikes of ether in the enormous area of effect they manifested in midair.
“General Elyk. Allow me to mock you for all but a moment… It’s one thing to borrow power from crystals. It’s another thing entirely to understand and wield magic itself. Please let me show you the difference.”
Near the trio, Kirisame held her head while continuing to try and shake off the terrible headache the new arrivals had left in her. She appeared to be reacting well to the glyphs inscribed around her, which even made her skin and hair glow with an iridescent light. There was little doubt in the magister's mind that she'd be safe in the end.
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elyk
New Member
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Post by elyk on Mar 2, 2015 18:35:14 GMT
Elyk simply chuckled as the rag master...wait red magister seemed to not see how the spells wove into Crim's assault. Oh well! He wasn't paying much attention to the spew factory also coming from Vin so it was all fair!
The "wave" from Boredmode would find itself not effecting Elyk due to the absence of any normal working biological brain. Of course there would probably be some technical flaw with the explanation as to why but it didn't matter as nothing was really going on towards him for anyone to capitalize on any momentary stun if there was one.
Now...Elyk has direct control over the spells from his materia being able to manipulate them after cast. Fortunately for Vin Vin, he wasn't going to get into some silly who's dick is bigger contest over the energy. This guy wasn't a mage, we should all bow down right now since even matter has an energy to it! So he could technically be able to rip us all apart with a thought or drain the electrons and protons from us! Or suck the energy out of their movements in our atoms! Dont know what that would theoretically do but it doesn't sound great! Oh wait absolute zero does that also!
No, Elyk could tell there were others on the battlefield that were better and deserved more attention but due to Ishidas madness he didn't want to intrude on his good time. The simplest thing for him to do is... His eyes flashed a small glare as his entire body and weapons suddenly liquifies and splashes onto the ground. Absorbing quickly down into the planet itself seemingly Elyk is both gone and still present. Anyone(lol i mean everyone) could probably sense he was still around.
Just a few moments later the giant drill meets a very strange resistance as if something was blocking the path. A strange liquid was pushing back against the drill as it was attempting its downward decent. The hydrolic pressure building and building until the said drill would be forcefully jettisoned out of the hole. In a perfect world that doesn't exist, the drill would hit space cthulu, but it's not so meh! Not like the drill will actually get stopped anyway and will somehow just keep going down like a homecoming queen on prom night.
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