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Post by Hero on Jun 13, 2018 19:16:40 GMT
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Post by Hero on Jun 13, 2018 19:50:10 GMT
 Today, this moment, was special. Everything in distant future, past, and present possibilities led up to this very moment. Many worlds had fallen into oblivion, and even entire world lines dissolved until they no longer existed— but everything was worth it. Even when The Infinity Dragon lacked the vision, Vincent Fiorelli, and even his greatest enemy Beramode Pendragon, were there steady the course. Now with casual footsteps the solar-haired walker of things both seen and unseen ambled across the sacred cosmic bridge that lacked a name. Silver-earrings in both of his ears, his trademark soot black suit and matching shiny dress shoes, and a golden watch that had long since halted it's purpose to tell time; Adell Laemington seemed to be dressed as per usual.
This, however, was no ordinary moment in a passage of time.
On the contrary this place, wherever it were, whenever it were, was the moment that their life changed forever. All of their research, dedicated planning, and careful execution, led them to their final reunion before the birth of something thought to be impossible.
Many had and would in the future play God, but none would do it the way they would— and who more qualified than the absolute strongest themselves?
The Eternals would feel every footstep upon the astral bridge like a knock on the door of their psyche, or atleast that's how Adell imagined it. When the time was right, he expected them to join him on the cosmic road that led to everywhere, the most secure and likely impossible place for any unlike themselves to reach. Until they did? He would walk until he reached the end of the world, for however long it took— after-all, it helped to clear his mind of the memories that existed beyond the present in both directions, almost infinitely. |
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Post by Lysander on Jun 13, 2018 20:31:29 GMT
Bahram's dark gaze held in the eternity, the cosmic dissonance of all living things existing in all spans of time and realities in that singular moment. His sight looked far beyond just the simple constraints of time, and bore its judgement down upon all things. In this moment, the eyes focused on nothing, yet took in everything. The world around him seemed to be nothing, seemed to not exist. Here, on Solitude, his power was absolute. The planet was his home, a segment of his Self. He burrowed into it, and lived upon it, all the same. His consciousness touched it, deep into the core of it. The nature of his existence was to become one with the cosmic nature of all things. He looked now back, through the ages, to the day of his birth. Long before Solitude existed, long before The Eternals existed. In fact, his sight carried him beyond the very confines of his universe - and through the veil between realities. In the Laurentian system, tucked neatly into a back corner relatively untouched by the long-reaching fingers of humanity, a star began the final stages of its life cycle. It blinked, flickering light on and off. The darkness surrounding it seemed constant, yet it brought the light of hope with it - and even that hope was waning. It held a sentience, it spoke unto itself. It bore some semblance of thought, and it was afraid. Afraid of what its death meant. In the womb, buried within the gaseous mass of matter, existed a creature of unspeakable potential - a being whose propensity for good could only be outweighed by the necessity of its evil. The heat of the star worked as an incubator, gestating the creature and gathering its life force. Soon, it would be born, and that birth spelled the end -- or perhaps the beginning -- of something beautiful. It wasn't sure, the star's sentience had no concept of good and evil. Only of being. Only of the task at hand. And that task was the birth of the thing within it. With a final, brilliant spark of light it seemingly exhaled. In that exhalation, came the end of its cycle. The light died away, particles of matter spreading throughout and expanding away from the hardened egg-shape of the thing within it. The egg sat there for a moment, before it rocketed away at faster-than-light speeds. Eventually, it came to rest upon a planet - the surface of the planet cradling it, tendrils of stone lifting up to grasp it. It was as if the entirety of the Universe expected this, and worked to ensure the safe arrival of something amazing. As the tendrils closed around it, the outer shell cracked. They peeled away, and light poured into it. The light bathed over the small version of the creature that now called itself Bahram. His first steps into life, the first touch of air on his body, and he already understood his purpose. The reasoning for his creation. Chaos was the default, chaos was the life blood of the Universe. His purpose was Order, to bring order to the darkness. Bahram snapped out of his trance for only a moment, the sound of bells ringing in the background. Something that didn't happen often, but once it did bore a message of eternity. Still, he had time - no reason to rush things. His eyes once more lost focus, and his gaze carried him once more back to a moment of memory. Several years passed from the time of his birth, and the planet he lived on seemed to be wholly uninhabited. He'd explored approximately eighty percent of it, and in that exploration found nothing. He felt no hunger or thirst, thankfully as no water nor food existed for him to partake of - yet, the planet was home. The only inhabitant was perfect for him, he found he liked the solitude. Though, he couldn't have known if he'd like the other better. Having never experienced what it was like having company, it would be impossible to know if he enjoyed company. Still, solitude fit him. His hand reached down, fingers dragging along the dirt - talon-like fingertips gouging the hard rock. One finger reached upwards, and his tongue ran along it - tasting the dirt. For him, it was home - and home tasted like what you might expect. Sustenance wasn't needed, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy understanding things. Knowing what it would taste like if he touched it to his tongue. So far, he'd found nothing he wasn't a fan of - save for the white, flaky stuff to the North. That was flavorless, and held nothing for him other than the burn of an extremely cold tongue. If he'd known then what he knew now, he'd have understood that it wasn't a bad thing. That the burn would be good for him, yet he didn't - and so he didn't partake. He snapped back again. The tones rang again, and he knew that if he didn't move soon that The God Dragon would come to find him. That wouldn't go over well. Stepping onto Solitude was forbidden, even for his fellow Eternals. He shifted, rising from his kneeling position to a standing one. His eyes closed and his head tilted toward the sun. His mind flowed through the current of celestial bodies, until he located it. His right hand shifted, a minuscule ministration of his fingers flowing through the air opened the doorway. The air broken by a horizontal line, that turned on its x-axis and then slammed to the ground in an opening. Through it was the brilliance of space. It seemed that Adell walked the cosmic bridge, and Bahram stepped through the gateway, letting it snap closed behind him. His eyes opened and he let the air rush through his nostril-slits. "Ah, hello Adell. You rang, aye?"
It wasn't known how he understood the languages of the Omniverse, yet there seemed to be none that Bahram couldn't speak or understand. For now, though, he held his conversation in common. The white frame of his body provided a stark contrast to Adell, as if the petal-like wings and the way his flesh over-layed itself like the petals of a flower blooming in the spring didn't do that enough. |
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Post by Dirge on Jun 13, 2018 22:24:46 GMT
Somewhere in the Multiverse...
"So... That's it? You seek me out, interrupt my entertainment, and this is all you have to say?"
Trouble was brewing in the darker corners of the Multiverse. The planets on the far rim of the known regions of this particular universe were rife with chaos. Slavers moved between solar systems in order to pick up batches of humans and aliens alike, all so they could sell them to the highest bidder in the system known as the Black Lagoon. One planet in particular stood out within this solar system - Morn Afah. In an ancient language, these two words translated to Eternal Death, yet it was a much worse fate what awaited each and every slave transported to it through either spaceship, warp devices, or transfiguration.
Under the command of Vincent Fiorelli, a band of slavers stood out from the rest. The Red Magister had seen it fit to supply them with enough technology and magic augments so that the threats of every planet they knew were nothing more than minor inconveniences. Simple prototypes of the Shadow Queen armor had been distributed amongst his crew, and a simplified version of the Lombardia, his spaceship, was replicated from the bits and pieces of knowledge he still retained prior to his splitting up. The knowledge was hard to remember but it was still there in the form of tiny shards, as though ingrained within his DNA. While running this group of misfits was nothing difficult for him, the fact that he was crudely interrupted by one of his half-sisters in the midst of administering punishment to the new batch of female slaves in his control was surprising enough to make him stop right before a sizzling iron brand could meet the chest of a barely conscious woman.
"I figured you would be interested to know that our father wishes to meet up with you. It is, after all, thanks to his power that you have been able to develop in the way that you have." The tone denoted clear arrogance in the femme fatale's voice, and the way she had begun to walk around the dimly lit chambers told Vincent she had not a single worry in her mind. "Is it not you who wished to become whole? Is it not you who wished to embrace the rage, the hatred, the pain? Is it not you who wished to spread torment and chaos throughout the land? And look at you now... Conforming with a band of simpletons and terrorizing a handful of planets far away from the prying eyes of self-proclaimed heroes and legends. You're as pathetic as they come, brother."
The shriek of the woman dangling from Vincent's grasp echoed throughout the chambers as several other female individuals stared in fear huddled up against the nearest wall. The brand was sizzling against her skin, marking her with a prominent 'V' between her breasts before she was tossed off to the side, wholly unconscious after the ordeal. The iron disappeared no sooner had it touched the ground, with the Red Magister returning to his throne a few steps away. Sitting down, the ominous aura he displayed was in full force, with the tattered ends of his dark crimson robes radiating a black smoke that never seemed to scatter. His skin was tanned more than usual, the once sunkissed complexion darkening further yet still heavily contrasting with his pitch black hair. Vermilion irises fixated on his half-sister as sable splotches shifted across otherwise white sclera.
"Taunt me as much as you will, Vylena. I care not for your petty words and yet... There is some truth to them. This is not who I am. This is far too little for my ambitious gaze." A single glance toward the branded women in the back had them gasping and cowering in utter submission. "This is nothing more than a simple diversion, fleeting entertainment, if you will, much like the obliterated civilizations of the northern reaches of this planet, or the destruction of the artificial planets the Federation has created in this solar system. Soon enough, I will instill fear in all of them, but tell me, Vylena... Tell me about our father's plan."
"I thought you'd never ask..."
The smirk upon his half-sister's face faded into the darkness of the room as she approached Vincent. The night was young, and she intended to use every single minute as their exchange begun...
Earth. Sahara Desert.
Sunlight illuminated the elegant chambers where an experiment was currently taking place. In a magically reinforced glass cage located directly in the center of the chambers, a silver haired, fair skinned individual dressed entirely in red robes sat down with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. The planet he currently resided upon was wholly known to him, and there were no secrets to be found anymore. The leylines of Earth flashed vibrantly in his mind, and it was almost as though he could reach out and touch each and every single one of them, producing any sort of effect he wished on any section of the planet he desired. His attunement with the leylines was such that phenomena mankind referred to as miracles, impossible things, could be achieved without any real effort from his part.
Exercises of this nature were necessary to Vincent Fiorelli now that he was one of two halves of a whole.
The planet's life force soon faded from the view of his mental map, with his Extrasensoria Perceptio, the supernatural extension of his senses, limiting itself to his surroundings. A shortlived sigh rolled past his parted lips before he stood, phasing through the glass as though the object had never been there to begin with, all to stand by the window facing toward the outside world. From the top of his tower, the Red Magister could see the vast expanse of greenery around it, and the heavy contrast the jungle surrounding the construct had toward the rest of the Sahara Desert, and toward the Ahaggar Mountains in the distance. It was from this secluded location that Vincent kept track of his allies, enemies, and the ongoings throughout the locations of the Multiverse that were known to him through his uplink with Hyades, the Secret Library.
Ever since his scuffle with Calibri and the resulting battle against a forgotten god, the Red Magister saw it fit to schedule constant training sessions for himself in order to get in touch with the skills he'd retained. For the most part, they all seemed to be there. His connection with the darkness, however, had been completely severed, rendering the trump card of Magia Erebea vastly less effective. At the same time, his elemental mastery had fully disappeared, leaving him only with the knowledge of magic, martial arts, and anything he had managed to pick up in these fields.
Indeed, Vincent Fiorelli had been effectively split in two halves. One embodying his human traits and the other one his demonic traits. Up until that point, it had been a constant internal struggle, with a myriad seals employed to keep the darker side at bay. Presently, however, the Light and the Dark were entirely separate, and Vincent no longer felt the kind of push and pull he'd been struggling with for the larger part of his life. In a sense, it was a relief; however, at the same time, the implications for the Multiverse were horrifying.
Before he could continue exploring the different avenues of thought regarding his other half, an all too familiar presence invaded his mind. A series of images flashed as vibrantly as the leylines had before in his conscious mind, with multiple individuals present in his memories making themselves manifest in this new location. It was a world without form, a universe without boundaries. It was a space that was not yet fully manifested, something that awaited for the right hands and thoughts to mold it.
It was a summons.
Through the connections the Multiverse had with this space between universes, the Red Magister made himself manifest in the cosmic road as an ethereal construct. In his chambers, it was as easy as facing the window leading to the outside world, embracing the nature of a reflection, or a mirror, as a double-sided gateway to another world. Vincent Fiorelli was present for the current events, and yet, at the same time, he was not there at all on a physical level. He was gauging the worth of this summons, and the worth of the friend who had summoned him.
"Never thought I'd see the day when Adell Laemington would cross paths with me again." The ethereal construct gazed toward the creature swathed in white, lofting an eyebrow in sheer curiosity. If whatever Adell had to say didn't grip his interest, seeing this new entity certainly would make the trip worthwhile. "Greetings to you, as well, stranger."
"So... I take it this is no prank nor a simple reunion of old friends, hm? Got something in your mind that you decided to turn into action after all these years, Adell?"
Vincent spoke with his usual tone denoting the sheer confidence he had in himself, but also always bordering the line of arrogance. Regardless of his personal situation, it was tough for him to refuse a friend, and so he would at least hear Adell out. |
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Otabe
New Member
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Post by Otabe on Jul 3, 2018 0:19:15 GMT
Speak of the devil and he doth appear; but Beramode was a very busy man.
In the years following the Battle of Xelphia and his subsequent betrayal of the mercenary faction known as Havoc Enterprises, he’d sought to consolidate his power, reasserting authority over the Throne of Eternal Night and the Domination which he’d left behind so long ago, neither as a god nor a king but something more and at once less than the sum of both. It was difficult to get an audience with him now just as it was difficult to even remember that he existed at all, though he most certainly did, even if only as a niggling presence in the background of every action. For one Adell Iliades Laemington this had almost certainly evolved into an acute sense of paranoia as the whole universe sought to tell him the man who had taken his arm was but a figment of his imagination.
Funny then, how that madness made him so much more motivated than others, but maybe that was the intent all along?
This one certainly did not know the answers, though he was fully half the man he understood but a fraction of the choices being made, an obfuscation he could not blame his mother for, she’d given him all the tools necessary to see through the cracks. Demons were the masters of lying after all. It was that curiosity more than anything else that piqued his curiosity on a weary night like this. There had been many battles since then and many victories too. But of those who could lay claim to the persistence that this Platinum Prince had, supposedly dead yet here again after so long, he sat with one leg crossed over the other listening to it echo time and again, the roar of a beast resounding through the stars. He set his textbook down, a too complex study on the mating process between some alien species or another, steepled his fingers and thought for a very long time.
He waited until to the voice had howled itself hoarse and then he thought some more in the silence that followed before finally deciding to join the proceeds; “Father never met a bad idea he didn’t love and I don’t see why I should be any different…”
“Well, father never met a bad decision that he didn’t entertain and it would be a tragedy for me to disappoint him, or so I think.” When he appeared before the three, Adell with two arms plus one familiar and another unfamiliar face, it was through a portal of whirling light. His steps careful and poised as though moving down a set of invisible stairs, though it seemed unlikely that he could move fast when on even ground, given the way his dress clung tight to his hips. Long blue hair straight as a razor’s edge billowing behind him in the cosmic wind and willowy body on display. More than just a demon his mother had been a succubus and her gifts were obvious.0 “Gentlemen, to what do I owe the honor?”
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Post by Hero on Jul 16, 2018 1:29:10 GMT
The primogenitors of an eternal dawn and future genesis heard the beckoning call, and they all began to appear one by one.
The astral bridge held the collective weight of an absolute invincible power in but a heart beat. With one lacquered heel after another, it was first that Bahram appeared from the void. Perhaps the most idiosyncratic of the quintet Bahram, a pale-fleshed psion that defied reason and became an enigma among the already looming mystery that was their coalition. The nature of their history, and exactly how Adell had managed to inquire him to join their cause was as much of a riddle as the origination of The Eternals and the sudden shift of disposition that made The God Dragon become who he was always meant to be. Millennia had past before and after his death where his motivations and ideals changed overtime, starting as the champion of the people and changing to become a belligerent mercenary of war, and then to an inquisitive researcher of the metaphysical. The lifespan of an immortal with a heart once human was complicated. However, all roads led here. Either to eternal death, or to creation, or rather, to become the creator himself. Bahram shared a fundamental level of curiosity, or perhaps other motivations that he saw fit to benefit, and there he was, arriving with his usual upbeat personae.
His heavenly footsteps stopped along the celestial bridge just as Bahram appeared, cosmic psion to cosmic psion, participating in casual conversation.
“I have. I can't tell if you look healthy or not but judging by your swiftness you're doing okay I take it?”
A more familiar presence manifested itself as an astral projection along the iridescent bridge, and immediately Adell had the answer to many questions all at once. It was impossible to tell for certain, but something felt suspiciously different about Vincent Fiorelli, The Red Magister's entrance. While it wasn't unusual for him to project himself all across the omniverse for any manor of reason, especially in an metatemporal location such as their own, but the opening of The Eye of Yefrem pierced the inconsistencies of he himself both here and there versus his existence prior. There was no way to tell for certain without asking, and perhaps the time would come in the midst of their future venture.
Wriggling his right hand through his pockets he lifted out a golden-lion pocket watch that in-fact did not belong to him, tracing the time passed in another location from one period to the next. A single click and he studied the hands for a moment, his thick, callous fingers shifting along the mature gold habitually. A moment of thought to consider his words before he confessed, “I promised you all that I would only call when the door was ready to be opened to the world we all worked tirelessly to develop...but there's an issue...one that requires all of us to fix it. Especially you.”
The God Dragon made sure to emphasize the importance of Vincent Fiorelli's role, as the one who had the most experience with the arcane and matters of energy dissection. Slipping the golden pocketwatch back into slacks he ushered with his right hand for Vincent to establish himself before them proper. “If you don't show, this fails, and everything we've worked for becomes nothing. I'd explain, but I'd rather you see for yourself what we're dealing with.”
Every word spoken in this world was communicated telepathically. Words could not flow here, and ordinarily, nor could life. However, for beings of immeasurable power such as themselves, it became a possibility to walk in this world like any other, while most would turn into atomized dissonance otherwise.
Then appeared a child of Beramode, or as Adell Illiandes Laemington would put it, another tool in his cosmic shed. There were no nightmares like before, or even long, overdrawn reflections as to Beramode and the truth of why he had become the way he was overtime. His mind, many things about him, Beramode was personally responsible for, and it all culminated in Ragnarok when the two met in a climatic battle that split existence for a fraction of time relative to eternity but not all at once. The Dragon's Gate had shattered into infinite pieces, and the sheep's clothing worn over the wool's ugly head revealed itself for who he truly was, but not before ripping his arm off in a gory battle of crude violence. In the end, the conclusion was complicated, Beramode clearly the victor, but Adell evolved. There was no unification of the dragon-kin that existed throughout, and he abandoned the crown of what would be the future of all dragons across time and space, but more than ever he realized the reason he existed and the true nature of his power.
So to that, an interesting relationship between the two had come about. Yet it felt like eons since they last interacted with one another, and reasonably so, everyone was morbidly busy— he moreso than most, if he was even still alive in some sense of the word. In his place, however, emerged The Platinum Prince. This was the first time they had met face to face, and Adell Illiandes Laemington was sure that whoever could feel and come to the presence of his footsteps were both powerful enough and apart of the alliance they had forged overtime. To see a new face, however, was initially shocking but not unexpected.
“I don't think we've met, but you can introduce yourself on the way. We have an issue as large as many of the collective universes around us that needs to be dealt with before we can finally finish it.”
Turning away from The Platinum Prince, The Red Magister, and The Evosor he slipped his hands into his slacks and raised one lacquered heel after another, continuing back down the astral bridge while trying his best to answer their inquiry. Adell being a giant hunk of muscle looked slightly odd ambling in such a lackadaisical way, but it was likely something they'd get used to.
“The one I decided to make our gatekeeper to our universe, Lucien, has gone awry. He's turned it into his hostage and is threatening to devour it. As you know, I've put a lot of work into it, but since we developed it with him as the key in and out, our only option is to kill him and essentially change the locks. I won't be able to do that on my own, however, thanks to a certain someone...”
And by certain someone, The God Dragon meant Beramode. Although he realized the actualization of his power, the shards of his existence scattered across the omniverse still needed retrieving, and while he had deliberated to splitting his time working on the Cosmogramma project and doing just that, it had proved to be harder than he thought. “So, you all will have to do it. Lucien is one of the many personifications of this worlds evil, and a necessary component initially to build the world in balance. It seems, however, that I wasn't careful enough...”
The further along he drew along the bridge, the closer he drew to a sigil of golden luminscence with ancient scribes located within the center of circular discs, the bridge ending (atleast here) within the portal before them.
“The good news is, the project is done...the bad news is, he took over my entire dimensional subspace and it won't be long before he devours all of our work. So...”
He stopped, spun on a heel in a vigorous pivot, and stood before the three with a smile of naivety. “Any questions?”
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