Playground of the Omniverse IC

Fitz laughed, though it pained him. "I'll tell you my name in due time, buddy. And no, I mean come out like I do like I just did. Like, floating around and stuff. It's easy, just focus on one part of the body, and push. You'll pop right out" Fitz said, still wincing. "But yeah, I should be able to hold up for the couple of hours. But after that, I'll need some rest. Maybe a nap or something." Fitz looked around the lab. It was full of large canisters and tools. "Building a body. That should be interesting. Anyway, continuing on with our conversation," Fitz said cheerfully, masking the pain of the ribs and the back with a smile as he started to walk around the lab, grabbing the items that Jeannot projected into his head. "Hello, Jeannot." I am Fitz Alphagenoi and I come from the dimension of Invot. I am its guardian, its partisan, It's god." Fitz put dark emphasis on these last words, whispering them with eerie articulation. Fitz just laughed, closing his eyes and put his hands behind his head. "Well, only in a hypothetical sense. Don't worry I'm quite the opposite of evil actually. You met Halcyon earlier, He's the other half of me. I guess you can call it a metaphysical representation of bipolarity. You see, I'm the light, kind, protective side. Halcyon, however, is the dark, sadistic, destructive side." Fitz began to gather assorted tools and lay them on a table in the middle of the lab. "In the beginning, we were one. And we were kind. We created the world, created the animals, and created humanity. However, we were formed by three Goddesses from the chaos that raged during pre-existence. And thus, that which is chaos," Fitz froze and lowering his voice, "Returns to chaos. We were corrupted by our power and strength. The Goddesses tried to destroy us, but we had surpassed our creators. We spoke them into non-existence." Fitz sighed, again feeling his lungs burn. "This part is difficult to explain. You see, when you kill something or break something, it still impacts the physical. For instance, killing someone releases the soul into the world to, in this world at least, presumably go to that idiot that we just had to deal with." Fitz rolled his eyes as he remembered the egotistical Death. "However, when something enters non-existence, it is as if it had never existed, yet it did. There is no death, but no life. It is a state of limbo where the being is and isn't. An odd paradox for a mortal mind to comprehend. Believe me," Fitz grunted as he lifted a canister and brought it over to the table, "I barely get it. Then again, I haven't been around for very long. To be honest, I don't remember anything from my times as a True god. Halcyon was mainly in power then, and when we our original being was split... I lost pretty much all memory from my times of creation. All I have is what Halcyon and my niece have told me. That brings me to my control of my power. Did you see me when we were 'dead'? I have no idea where that power came from. I'm still learning how to siphon my power. I do believe that I am as strong as Halcyon and can do, pretty much whatever he can. I mean, we're literally the same people, aside from our attitudes. Plus I've been holding him back for the last 22 years, give or take a couple of mistakes. However, I can't control my power now... Your knowledge of soul science can help me with that, hopefully." Fitz took a seat in a chair and continued to speak. "Now, remember that deal I made with the Caster of Shadows? I fully intend to go through with it; excepting the part where I bring you back to him. Getting Halcyon back? Wanted to do that in the first place. Killing the High Priest? Knowing Halcyon, the High Priest is probably a walking corpse that doesn't know he's dead yet. But I have no strife with you. I like you, even though we just met. You seem chill. Of course, aside from the whole stealing me and unleashing Halcyon... But that makes life interesting again!" Fitz smiled. "Now, can you explain to me what Tutmose is? Also, the whole thing about your soul thieving, that sounds fascinating."

“Good. Now - thaaank you for coming to my rescue…” Madeline pressed herself up against the floor, rising up to his snout and gave it a small kiss.
Devastation took over Chad's face. "No... bu-bu-bu, I-It can't be..." Chad muttered in defeat. Internally, Chad walk into the corner of woe, crouches on the floor and whimpers in shame.
“…Buuut you should get back to work, right?” The sharkman gave a series of small nods before he began to make his way out the door, but then stopped. Beginning to turn, Madeline put a hand, “Don’t worry, I can handle this.” Another nod and Bruce’s huge frame stomped out of the kitchen.
“Now.” Madeline sighed, straightening her shirt, “Why are you even back here?” Snake eyes looked at Chad evenly…

Luckily Chad was able to quickly compose himself although still a bit disappointed he replies, "As I said before, I came here to make a team of the strongest and most capable people I can find to save the universe from utter annihilation and chaos, and right now I'm looking for Missile because, as of right now, she is the strongest person that could potentially help us. I last saw her come through here with Kuroda to get healed from her injuries." Chad sighs and claps his hands together, "It is really important that I find her and talk to her. Please, do you have any idea where she might be?"

Ganti/ Chad M.F.

“... and the Color Guard TOTALLY had a thing with Fitz’s earth friends when they came to Invot. Belle was a little aprehensive at first but Broakes was definately into her. E.D. and Hermosa…” Ganti’s banter continued as she was lowered to the floor by the confused Shark-dude. “... And then I was all like, “Oh no he didn’t” and he was all like “Oh yeah he did!” and then when they went back to- MMPF! Mmpf mmmmf mm Mmhmm” Ganti felt an apple shoved into her mouth from the Medusa as she talked to Future-dude and Shark-dude. “Mmof mmhm mm mhmmm muhmf...” Ganti continued to spiel while the apple was stuck in her mouth. She heard s the Medusa, who’s name was apparently Madeline, ask the future-dude what he was doing back here. “As I said before,” The man began to speak, “I came here to make a team of the strongest and most capable people I can find to save the universe from utter annihilation and chaos, and right now I'm looking for Missile because, as of right now, she is the strongest person that could potentially help us. I last saw her come through here with Kuroda to get healed from her injuries." The man clapped his hands, "It is really important that I find her and talk to her. Please, do you have any idea where she might be?" Ganti reached up to the apple and took a bite of it, rolling her eyes. “This guy does not listen.” She muttered as she chewed. “Yo Madeline!” Ganti tapped the Medusa on the shoulder, “Hey girl, I’m Gantiiii, thanks for the apple...” She smiled at Madeline. “But this guy isn’t getting it through his skull that my husband can help him 10x more than any ‘Missile can’. I mean, he’s a god sooooo… yeah. That'd probably help him” Ganti, laughed gleefully. “Have you seen him around? His name is Fitz. He was in the bar earlier. Tallish, Black trench coat, and long yellow hair." Ganti mimicked his height and trech coat using her hands. "He caused that little bit of trouble in the bar earlier with his… other soul (Yeah, that bits a little hard to explain.)… when that waitress with the freckles hit on him. He was the guy that was staring down the... Ghosty person with the fire for hair (That's Halcyon)” She smiled and cocked her head, closing her eyes.

The surroundings of space and time whipped together in a fleshy tendon like bond joining together with florescent elements never before seen in all Human and Orin recording. Beams of light dissected them sporadically and a mist the shade of blue came out of nowhere permeated their bodies and causing them distress. In truth Barabbas had no idea what was happening. He felt his bones aching. The few times he had ever used Trans dimensional jumping he was under ordinary circumstances, and never had his body been harmed. As they gripped each other in an inverse free fall and spinning lively in the strangeness of their surroundings both were seriously frightened. Thoughts of home and loved ones flashed in both their eyes and when everything went quiet they held each other - a human and an Orin; two separate species and both a stranger to the other. Slowly the sound of a freight train began to build. Lilly had once heard the sound in an old historic archive aboard her ship and Barabbas was entirely set beside himself, such a sound would have been resolved twelve millennia ago on Pious. The track screeched and when the mammoth sound passed they both appeared in The Crossroads and fell five feet from the ground directly on hard pavement. As they rose slowly tending to their bruises, a flood of pedestrians zoomed by them. They went to the nearest sign posting, a holographic directory beneath a colossal building, and on it in bright blue Verdana read: “Assembly of Corporate Galactic Peacemaking Efforts.” When he turned to question Lilly, she was gone and the adventurous tales of Barabbas Briggs, Trans dimensional traveler of Orin, had now begun.

As Chad was trying to explain the situation, Ganti would not stop rambling about some idiotic story. Chad was already in a bad mood, and Ganti was becoming more of a nuisance to Chad than of assistance.

“But this guy isn’t getting it through his skull that my husband can help him 10x more than any ‘Missile can’. I mean, he’s a god sooooo… yeah. That'd probably help him” Ganti, laughed gleefully. “Have you seen him around? His name is Fitz. He was in the bar earlier. Tallish, Black trench coat, and long yellow hair. He caused that little bit of trouble in the bar earlier with his… other soul (Yeah, that bits a little hard to explain.)… when that waitress with the freckles hit on him. He was the guy that was staring down the... Ghosty person with the fire for hair (That's Halcyon)”

Chad took in a deep breath as he became increasingly annoyed. "First of all, I did hear what you said and the reason I didn't even reply to that suggestion was because 'Free Willy' back there decided to crash in and grab you by the skull! Two, you said it yourself, you don't even KNOW where Fitz is, and neither do I because the last time I saw him, he was blown into OBLIVION! All he left me was a scarf which I gave to the Boar. Fitz could be anywhere right now, and we have ABSOLUTELY no idea when he will come back. Until then, we have to find Missile, she is our best bet."

With that Chad faces Madeline once again. "Can you help us out?"

"Hmm... Well first I would like to apologize for ripping your soul from your body Fitz. I thought that other soul of yours was a demon possessing you... Sorry... Any way get out of that chair, we have work to do. It sounds like you've a quite an interesting past. And about your power, I think we can help you control it."

Jeannot mentally projected an image of a steel tray with eight pinkish spheres on it to Fitz. " Take that tray with round fleshy looking spheres and put the far left one in your hand. I need you to use your power focusing on that sphere. If you need to destroy it to do so that's fine. With it we will measure the consistency and potency of your power. And with that knowledge we can figure out what material we will build the body with and how strong we need to make it."

Ganti/ Chad. M. F.

Future-dude snapped out, annoyed at Ganti. "First of all, I did hear what you said and the reason I didn't even reply to that suggestion was because 'Free Willy' back there decided to crash in and grab you by the skull! Two, you said it yourself, you don't even KNOW where Fitz is, and neither do I because the last time I saw him, he was blown into OBLIVION! All he left me was a scarf which I gave to the Boar. Fitz could be anywhere right now, and we have ABSOLUTELY no idea when he will come back. Until then, we have to find Missile, she is our best bet." The man then turned to the Medusa but what he said to her was irrelevant. Gant’s head was spinning. Fitz… Blown into oblivion? That was… impossible. “... What…” She barely muttered, looking towards the floor, hand clutching her chest. Her heart was racing. “What happened..” She gasped quietly, looking towards Chad, her eyes welling with tears.

Then, something changed.

Ganti felt a surge of anger. She felt darkness in her heart, and a cruel desire for bloodshed. Her tears were gone. Now there was just a thirst for knowledge, and a deep annoyance for this man. This man who had so heartlessly told her this news. Her mind was focused and her senses were hyper-extended.

Ganti reached behind her into an tub full of dirty dishes and grabbed a large steak knife and threw it into the air above her and Chad. She then would dash behind Chad as he was turned to Madeline. Putting her left arm around his throat, she would attempt to put him in a headlock and wrap her left leg around his, threatening to throw him to the ground if he made an attempt to counter-attack, she reached out her right arm as the knife’s hilt landed in her hand. In an instant, the blades tip would be against his jugular, threatening to spill out the dimensional travelers life blood if he moved. “It would be a shame if you never got to make this little team, so I would advise acting to my will.” she would whisper into his ear, her voice full of rancor, pressing the tip a little harder into the throat of the funk master. "“Now, to be honest, if Fitz was ‘blown into oblivion’ we would have known by now. A LOT of things would have happened and this world would be, most likely, immersed in hellfire right now.” She leaned in closer to Chad’s ear. “So don’t lie to me like that. Tell me the truth. Where. Is. Fitz.”

+~+~+~

Fitz/ Jeannot

Fitz winced as he walked over to the sphere of flesh. “This is… disgusting.” He shuddered, which caused him even more pain than he was in. He reached out and picked it up. “What the garbage is this?” Fitz asked as he began to focus his aura. Fitz furrowed his eyebrows and began to shout. “AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” He yelled as Light Aura erupted from his hand, incinerating the flesh. “Is that good?” Fitz panted. It hurt to use his aura in this body, mainly because of his brokenness. He looked up at the roof, at the scorched marks on the ceiling and down at his hands, which were slightly burnt as well. “Crap, sorry about that…”

“It would be a shame if you never got to make this little team, so I would advise acting to my will.” Ganti demanded pressing the knife against Chad's throat. “Now, to be honest, if Fitz was ‘blown into oblivion’ we would have known by now. A LOT of things would have happened and this world would be, most likely, immersed in hellfire right now.” She leaned in closer to Chad’s ear. “So don’t lie to me like that. Tell me the truth. Where. Is. Fitz.”

"I was not lying. The last time I saw him, he blew up into thin air and I have no idea where he is. And two," Chad teleports out of Ganti's hold and immediately reappears in front of her. "The reason why I am making this team is because of HIM! Trust me, you DO NOT want me dead right now because I am the only one that has a CLUE as to what is going to happen! That Halcyon thing you were just talking about took over Fitz body, and now he is running loose ready to throw shit into the fan!" Chad takes another breathe and tries to be more civil about this. "Fitz promised me he will come back. The only reason why I even have a glimmer of hope in saving this universe is because I trust him to come back and take down Halcyon. He trusted me in keeping some scarf safe, but I gave it to the Boar because I believe he is better suited for that." Chad straightens himself. "I don't have time to waste its either you're with me or you're not, but I would much rather have you stay and help than for you to go off on your own..."

“This is… disgusting.” He reached out and picked it up. “What the garbage is this?” Fitz furrowed his eyebrows and began to shout. “AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” He yelled as Light Aura erupted from his hand, incinerating the flesh. “Is that good?” Fitz panted. It hurt to use his aura in this body, mainly because of his brokenness. He looked up at the roof, at the scorched marks on the ceiling and down at his hands, which were slightly burnt as well. “Crap, sorry about that…”

"That's perfect! Don't worry about the ceiling." Jeannot replied just a bit excited. "That measuring device was just a lump of living human tissue. We are going to need to build you something quite strong this may take a number of attempts but it will be good for the both of us I think. Now push that blue button beneath the table." When he did the table rose a few inches and a force field emerged around the perimeter of the table. "Now we will need the ingredients you gathered. Most of them are in canisters and fit into the bottom of the table insert them and the machine will begin the process." When Fitz did so the table was lit with thin red laser beams that ran the length of the table and danced around each other dropping tiny bits here and there of what would make up the body.

"Now while that's working I'll explain to you how I think we can help you learn to control your power. First, I pose the question what is a soul without its body? I ponder this in relation to my common perception of the body without the soul. Often, the body devoid of its soul is likened unto an empty shell, a husk, or wholly hollow. If the two are one, body and soul, to begin with, then what occurs when one entity is rent into two? If when one being is divided into two parts, certainly neither part is whole any longer. And if the body is hollow, it implies emptiness. If then it is empty, what fills it if not the soul? Thus can it be assumed that the in shell is some form of filling? This would make it appear that the soul, being spirit in nature, is distinct from the body, being physical. And in this vein of thought would hold that spirit fills what is physical.

Now, in my own studies I’ve seen a decrease of animation in the body when its soul is rent from it. Namely that the body is still living with its vital organs fully functioning. However, the decrease is leads to a coma of sorts. The do not move or speak or even think. The brain and muscles are intact but lie dormant, unmoving. Left like this these bodies die from starvation or dehydration or some other lack of necessary supplement after some number of months.

In contrast, when soul is removed from its physical form it is not quite the same. The soul does not die the way the body does, and at first, the soul is even more animate. In my observations, after spirit is divided from physical, the spirit enters a state of shock. This shock disturbs the soul into restlessness, for the soul remains in union with the being's consciousness. It can think and communicate, spiritually that is, and even move about.

Though the disembodied soul moves indeed, its movement is not the same as the body’s movement. In this state of shock the soul becomes, for a time, hyper-animate. In some test cases, I have observed there is often a great increase in what I call the souls “presence”

It is difficult (to put it mildly) to measure anything that is spiritual in nature. It is noticeably more difficult to measure spiritual potency. For example, to measure the strength or force of something spiritual. In my efforts trying to measure the strength or force of spirits, I stumbled upon this idea of “spiritual presence” [there are few technological means of detecting spiritual things; those that do exist don’t truly measure spirit  but instead the physical affects that spiritual presence, So out of necessity, I tried to measure spirit with spirit.] This presence is one of the only ways to measure spiritual potency. The soul recently removed from its body enters a state of hyper animation and it is in the process leading to that state which provides the best conditions to measure spirit.

To conduct the measurement, I devised an experiment. I decided I would take five human subjects to maintain consistency. I would rip their souls from their bodies, all at the same time, and I would keep the souls captive and monitor and record data in kind. What I did to contain them was construct a physical vessel that could contain them similar to how a body would. Then I removed a fragment of my own spirit and placed my fragment and the test subjects in their respective vessels.

At first the souls were docile but then the shock I described set in. As the soul became more active or more "powerful" the fragment of my spirit became overwhelmed and subdued by the test subject. It was as if the subjects where filling the vessel more and more with their increase in activity.

So I arrived at two conclusions by the end of the experiment. First this filling aspect of the spirit was movement, was consciousness, was animation, was life. And second to my great surprise and minor loss that souls could be subjugated. The fragment of my own soul that I left in the vessel was consumed by the test subjects souls."

The body was nearing half its completion, The machine was wrapping sinew over the freshly made bone.

"So this helps you because once we know the limits of your power we can utilize them. Spirit it utilized like the will of the person. Once you know what you are capable of you can control that. Or at least that's the idea..."

Old Boar’s Inn; Kitchen
[Ganti/Chad M.F.]

For the present medusa, it would be difficult to deal with the flurry of introductions and questions. However, Madeline did her best, smiling and nodding slightly as she gave a friendly smile and tilt of her snaked head towards Ganti. She was about to speak, but then Chad’s friendly personality turned sour as he snapped at Fitz’s wife.

Madeline stood uncomfortably as the octopus man slammed a pan on the marbled countertop, anger clear in his demeanor at Chad’s outburst. He began to walk towards the Master Funk, but Ganti’s reaction was not expected. Madeline gasped as the octopus-man took a step back, a hand stranding behind his belt as he cautiously looked at the grappling pair.

Chad’s last words rang in the air, everyone practically holding their breath as both of the Boar’s employees waited for the pair’s reactions. For anyone who looked at Madeline, a very frightened expression was on her face, a feminine hand covering her mouth, eyes wide as saucers, and her “hair” began to rise, a rattling noise rasping the air…



The Lows; Main Street
[Kresnik]

As the pair made their way further down the street, the more the pair walked, the more the ever present crowd became more streamlined. People moved around, past, and with the limping elf and the dhampir as their conversation continued,

“It’s obvious.” The elf laughed, throwing back his head, his belled hat echoing the gesture, “Not many would stand against Tala alone, especially at the gate.” Kresnik guide’s eyes did a quick up-down look as he continued, “And this inn, mate.” The cripple looked into the dhampir’s eyes evenly, stopping in his tracks as he did, “This inn is like none other of its kind, or any building of that matter.”

The elf moved forward, “This place holds every crook and cranny, and its a city of itself. No man pays attention and all are there for an escape, at least for the most part.” A pause in his speech as he limped on, past stranger after stranger, before he chucked again after a few dozen steps, “Aye, it’s a good place to prop up your feet for some booze and whisper secrets among friends and foes.” A wink was cast at Kresnik as the elf said his final word, “Though it is usually packed, and not at all without life.”

If the dhampir had nothing more to say, after crossing crooked street after crooked street, they would soon find themselves under the polished wooden sign of the Old Boar’s Inn and inside its walls. “Pick a spot, mate. I’ll find you when I gather up some drinks!” With a lazy half wave, the elf melted into the crowd, giving Kresnik some time alone to decide whether or not he really did want to know why this elf really saved him…

"I was not lying. The last time I saw him, he blew up into thin air and I have no idea where he is. And two," The man began to speak. Without warning, he teleported out of Ganti’s hold, causing her to fall back onto the ground. She raised the knife and looked at her dull reflection on the dirty knife. Her eyes were fading from a bright red back to their normal grey. She shuddered, as the man continued to speak."The reason why I am making this team is because of HIM! Trust me, you DO NOT want me dead right now because I am the only one that has a CLUE as to what is going to happen! That Halcyon thing you were just talking about took over Fitz body, and now he is running loose ready to throw shit into the fan!"

Ganti felt her heart stop. Time stood still as the world crashed down around her. “Oh god…” She muttered, starting to rise from her position, but collapsed under her shaking legs, this time hitting the ground with her chest. Fresh tears began to well up, as she pondered the cataclysm forthcoming.

"Fitz promised me he will come back.” Said the man, as Ganti looked up “The only reason why I even have a glimmer of hope in saving this universe is because I trust him to come back and take down Halcyon. He trusted me in keeping some scarf safe, but I gave it to the Boar because I believe he is better suited for that. I don't have time to waste its either you're with me or you're not, but I would much rather have you stay and help than for you to go off on your own..."

At this, Ganti took the steak knife, raised her arm, and plunged it into the floor, pushing herself up. She gazed at this man who had such faith in Fitz and such resolve. Lips quavering, she managed a smile. “Ok…” She barely got out. “I believe you… And I’ll help…” She threw her head up and took a deep breath. “Alright!” She exclaimed as she looked back at the future-man, smiling at full force. “If we’re gonna stop Halcyon, and if Fitz isn’t here right now,” Ganti began to speak, voice unwavering and with as much vigor as before, “We should go get some more help!” Ganti was back in her normal attitude, or so it seemed. Deep inside, the inner machinations of her mind were turning at a ridiculous pace. A combination of great fear and great joy raged in her heart. If Halcyon was out there running around free, who’s to say she could keep back the bitch? “SOOOO…” She continued, “Where is Missile?”

[Kresnik]
Kresnik listened intently, memorizing each and every word and inflection the elf uttered. He even noticed and memorized the up-down look the elf kept giving, measuring Kresnik; perhaps measuring not only his character, but his capabilities, limitations, and even more... but Kresnik could not comprehend, fully, what the elf was truly looking for. He kept this thought to himself, and listened as they continued. Eventually, they came upon the Old Boar's Inn. "A city within a city, an inn that's not quite an inn but is an inn..." Kresnik muttered to himself, mildly amazed by the place. There were many people around, bustling, lively; just as the elf had said previously. Kresnik glanced around, measuring each and every individual character that wandered, measuring their worth, character, and severity. Many of them seemed capable of being dangerous, but he didn't bother to appear dangerous; he wanted to be here, unnoticed, merely a shadow. Nothing worth looking at. It would prove pointless to do so and Kresnik knew that he would need to be on guard, at best, in order to not cause trouble.

The elf spoke again, telling him to find a place to sit, to stand, a place where they could talk under the safety of the din. Kresnik was curious about the favor, so much so that he wasn't even irritated with being told what to do. The dhampir found a nice spot in the shadows, his back in a corner, eyes surveying all of those before him under the security of the dark corner. "This is beginning to look promising..." Kresnik muttered, a sly, rare smirk appearing on his usual stoic face.

“Ok…” Ganti barely got out. “I believe you… And I’ll help…” Chad took a breath of relief as he heard this. “Alright!” She continued as she looked back at him smiling “If we’re gonna stop Halcyon, and if Fitz isn’t here right now, we should go get some more help!” Chad nodded in agreement. “SOOOO…” She continued, “Where is Missile?”

"She seems to be doing alright." Chad thought to himself. "But I don't think anybody would be okay just like that, especially after hearing that her husband is gone. Even if Fitz is a god, and she is a trained cold-blooded assassin, the emotional shock is still there. For now, I'll just have to wait and see what happens..."

"Before we continue our search for Missile," Chad interjected announcing to the group, "I would like to make on thing clear; when we find Missile, I want to talk to her alone. The less amount of people involved the better, and plus," Chad paused in reflection "Things will probably get ugly."

Missile nodded at Kuroda's words, understanding and yet... not quite. She wasn't sure she wanted to. She watched in silence as she cleared the china away, and her eyes followed Ayuna into the trees.

"I've had far worse in the past, but I appreciate the concern." Missile gave Kuroda a warm-ish smile and held her arm up, wincing maybe once or twice but not out of any genuine pain. The salve sort of burned, and she disliked the feeling of bandages on her skin in any situation to begin with. Once the job was done, her vectors grasped her bloodied clothes - she'd get them cleaned up somehow, and she still needed to get the heart upstairs.

She nodded her farewell to Kuroda as the door closed, "Have a good night, Kuroda-sama." She turned and walked up the hallway, grateful for her bare feet; she wanted to get upstairs as quietly as possible, avoid anybody. She felt tired and even after that lovely bath, everything just sort of still hurt - probably a leftover of the stomach acid she'd briefly had contact with.

Her hand reached for the kitchen doorknob and she froze, hearing her name on the other side. She recognized the voice but couldn't put the name to a face - Chad, Chad, the fucker from the bar, what did he look like?! Her eyes widened, hearing him joined by another voice. Shit, she wasn't getting involved. Hell fucking no. Who was Fitz again? She searched her memory and she dimly remembered the fellow from the fight with the monster, the god? With a quiet groan, she rubbed her face with a free hand, the other still holding onto her precious parcel.

She heard a scuffle and decided to check another room; picking one at random, she shut the door behind her as close to silence as needed. Shit; no windows? She looked around, chewing on her lip, before seeing in the dimness a shape on the floor. Hmm... She nudged it with her foot and realized it was a trap door. Great! That worked.

She took a few minutes to carefully lift it up and lower herself inside, taking great pains to make as little noise as humanly possible. Once the door had been slowly lowered, enough light gave her an idea of where she was - that and the smell. The aroma of wine drifted through the air and it made her feel just a bit dizzy as she searched around for a way out; hell, if she spent enough time down here, maybe she could avoid the search party altogether.

In a corner - which corner, she wasn't sure, the building was huge enough that she could easily lose her sense of direction if she wasn't careful - she spotted a ladder rising into the ceiling. If her guess was correct, she'd wind up somewhere else in the building or outside.

Her steps still soft, continuing to be immensely thankful for naked toes, she walked to the ladder and the closer she walked, the more she realized she heard a very faint noise. Said noise grew gently louder, and she listened hard - to the sound of sobbing. She glanced around, hesitating, before calling out in a whisper, "Is someone there?"

[Ganti]

“Meh,” Ganti shrugged, “I don’t really care about tallking to this person anyway. Doesn’t bother me.” She smiled, “I’m gonna run and grab my stuff from my room!” And she ran out the door. As she entered the bar, she threw herself on the wall and gasped for air, putting her hand over her mouth. Halcyon, admittedly, wasn’t as strong as he was during the Imprisoning War, but he could still take over this world. And if he gained enough power to begin making Shaeds again… Even worse, if the other side got out... Ganti shuddered. She hated that part of her. Stupid Halcyon, splitting her soul in two. Ganty, her other soul, had never come out after it had been defeated by Fitz’s earth friends. This was the first time it had shown, even the tiniest bit of itself. But it was enough to initiate a bit of fear in her. If Ganty took over the body again, it would only make that future guy’s life hell; another superpowered Shaed to deal with. And where could Fitz have gone? The future man said he got blown into oblivion; that wasn’t what happened last time Halcyon took over. And what’s up with this scarf? She began to walk from the bar door to the stairs, thinking over this strange predicament, looking down. If she bumped into someone, they would have to jostle her quite a bit to get her out of her pondering state. If she reached the stairs without causing any major disturbance, she would continue up towards her room.

Ganti knocked on the door. “Gaudete!” She shouted, “I’m locked out! Open up!”


========


[Fitz/ Jeannot]

Fitz intently listened to Jeannot intently. What he was talking about had so much pertinence to Fitz and Halcyon. Maybe, with his help, he could figure out the mystery of the Aura that so eluded his comprehension. "So this helps you because once we know the limits of your power we can utilize them. Spirit it utilized like the will of the person. Once you know what you are capable of you can control that. Or at least that's the idea..." As Jeannot concluded his discourse, Fitz looked at the strange machine still working, wrapping flesh over bone and making their new body. "Well Jeannot, it seems your studies will help immensely in our little adventure," Fitz smiled, "If we can figure out my power soon enough, getting my body back will be a mere problem of FINDING Halcyon." Fitz winced. The pain had subsided mildly, but it still racked his body. "Soooo, how soon will this body be done? Cause I am in quite a bit of pain still, and would love a break." He smiled. "And you should try projecting yourself out of this body. It's fun, trust me."

Old Boar’s Inn; Kitchen
[Ganti/Chad M.F.]

For the present medusa, it would be difficult to deal with the flurry of introductions and questions. However, Madeline did her best, smiling and nodding slightly as she gave a friendly smile and tilt of her snaked head towards Ganti. She was about to speak, but then Chad’s friendly personality turned sour as he snapped at Fitz’s wife.

Madeline stood uncomfortably as the octopus man slammed a pan on the marbled countertop, anger clear in his demeanor at Chad’s outburst. He began to walk towards the Master Funk, but Ganti’s reaction was not expected. Madeline gasped as the octopus-man took a step back, a hand stranding behind his belt as he cautiously looked at the grappling pair.

Chad’s last words rang in the air, everyone practically holding their breath as both of the Boar’s employees waited for the pair’s reactions. For anyone who looked at Madeline, a very frightened expression was on her face, a feminine hand covering her mouth, eyes wide as saucers, and her “hair” began to rise, a rattling noise rasping the air…

However, the situation was quickly handled, the octopus man rushing out from the grilling area. With a greasy rag in hand, he threw it with surprisingly great accuracy, causing the soggy, smelly piece of cloth to smack the medusa in the face. Madeline let out a terrified and terrible shriek, her entire body quivering as a glaringly light issued out from behind the the rag. The temporary weapon would save both Ganti and Chad as it took turned to a rough sculpture of the cleaning device, shattering as it hit the ground.

The next events were swift and decisive. As Ganti and Chad conversed, Madeline was quivering visibly, the octopus man wrapping an arm around her in a comforting position. Madeline would quickly compose herself nodding slowly, whether in agreement with Chad and Ganti’s words or something else, it would be hard to tell. But when asked Chad’s repeated question, Madeline would slowly look up to Chad in an unsteady voice, “Missile? You mean Kuroda’s guest? In her room, but…”

Regardless, as Ganti made her leave, Madeline clicked her tongue in disapproval, a hard look cast in Chad’s direction.

“Tsk - you’ve made her upset, you-you…!” Madeline’s face scrunched in frustration as she looked for the right word, slithering past Chad, shouldering him roughly (though her lack of strength would be apparent as she brisker by), “You brute!” A sniffle escaped from her mouth as she passed through the swinging doors…

Chad would then be left with the octopus man, who looked after Madeline as she made her leave, then to Chad, and then back to the grill. With an odd-sounding snort, he would return to his post at the grill…

If Chad asked to be directed to Missile, the cook would just look at Chad for a moment and then return to his grilling and frying. Obviously, something would have to be done in order to get this employee’s attention…

If Chad persisted in questioning, the cook would eventually glare at the Master Funk, raise a spatula, and slam it down on the grill. Practically stomping his way out of his cooking space, he would literally drag Chad off his feet and pull him in tow, regardless if the futuristic man fell, and after passing through the same rooms Missile did not moments ago, Chad would find himself at Kuroda’s lovely, decorated door.

If Chad turned to thank his guide, a grunt would issue from the cook’s mouth and a hand would stick out, asking for payment. If Chad were observant, he would see that each finger was a tentacle, dozens of suckers on each finger. However, if the Master Funk did not thank his guide or refuse to pay, a heavy blow would be delivered to where Chad’s kidneys were, leaving Chad on the ground with an aching back and a very upset cook who stomped back to his duties…


Ganti’s stifled gasp would not go unnoticed by the pursuing medusa, but Madeline would not be able to catch up to Ganti until she reached her room’s locked door. “Ganti!” She would call out to her once within ear reach. “Ganti… I’m-I’m sorry.” Madeline would say nervously, “For everything. He had not right telling you that-that way about your…” The medusa’s voice would trail off…



Old Boar’s Inn; Kuroda’s Quarters
Missile

The diclonius’s actions were decisive, quick - just what was needed. As she closed the trapdoor above her and descended into the black via a solid ladder, she would hear movement above - two people at least.

Once she scaled downward without light or sound, Missile would hit the ground (which would seem like an eternity. Darkness plays tricks on the eyes and the hands of a watch), she would feel cold, smooth stones against her feet. This place was unmistakingly a wine cellar, from the smell of the air to the barrels she would possibly touch as she would possibly scrabble to find any source of direction or light. Eventually, if she moved around enough, her bare left foot would bump into (and maybe even crashing over) a wooden stool, sending a booming, crashing noise of a metal plate. If she managed to fumble about in the right place, Missile would find just that - a metal plate with a candle firmly mountedon it. Under the plate, a wooden stick (more than likely a match) would be taped under the it. However, if she managed not be careful and not send the wooden stool crashing to the stone floor, a mounted candle stick would be around the next corner of the cellar, its dim light dancing merrily in the dark.

After a few moments of light and a few dozen steps, Missile would quickly discover that this cellar was built in the shape of a “number” symbol. (#) It was just a catacombs of wine. Upon wandering towards the middle (if she so chose), something would look familiar. In the many adventures with Pullo, she would remember something - a deja vu from a very drunken night…

If she could remember correctly, the lover had been here before - after all, how could you call something home if you hadn’t fully explored it. And while they hadn’t, for the most part, a rumor had led them here - a rumor that had been true and a rumor that had led to a night of near alcohol poisoning. Regardless, the memory would be her ticket out - a torch would be one of the “outside” dead ends of the maze. The easiest way would be to enter to the middle, but if she felt the need to explore she could.

Regardless if she did explore, however, Missile would eventually find herself in the middle of the symbol. The exit would not be more clear, as flare of light coming from one of the beckoning halls. practically melting the darkness away with its blazing color. But then she would hear it, and respond, her voice echoing into the darkness beyond her candle’s little bubble of soft light.

The words echoed, as soft as the weeping she had heard with each moving step. But her words suddenly caused the weeping to rise to a agonizing wail. The sound from the darkness would definitely be male, but it was clear he was beyond the point of shame or hiding.

Missile had two options at this point: If the beastly cries, pain filled, terrible, and practically causing the very walls around her to drip of sadness, the sound echoing through the seller in some sort of despairing dirge, frightening or startled the diclonius, she would only need to flee down two corners and into the light. Her memory would prove to be correct, the torch shedding its protective aura around her and show her to a ladder. From there, she only need breach a heavy manhole covering and arrive back into the alley she had only been not two quarters ago. After climbing from the black, she would be free to go where she pleased (and maybe even through the window that Pullo had damaged).

However, if Missile could not resist pursuing the sound, whether it be through bravery or curiosity, she would come across the source of the weeping, though she would have to wrap around two more corners to do so. The noise, the wailing, all of it would come from one being: The Boar. His bulky frame would be hunched, half leaning, half slumped over an opened barrel of deep purple wine, which was as big as he. Broken shards of glass were scattered all about the innkeeper as he turned to the approached diclonius. In that instant, his single eye would betray his prolonged suffering, the single orb puffy from crying, and oozing a wet trail from his glassy eye to his jawline, where tears had undoubtedly dripped away.

He would look at her drunkenly, but suddenly snuffle, wiping away his tears and the end of his snout, his usually gruff voice sounding cracked, wavering as he called out to Missle’s “distant” figure, (things always seem when so far away):

“Looshe? Ish that too?”

He would stumble to his feet, only to fall back to one knee. If she hadn’t picked up yet, Missile would definitely know that her lover’s landlord was extremely intoxicated. However, he looked longingly and hope filled in the direction of Missile…



The Lows; Main Street
[Kresnik]

The Old Boar’s Inn has many coveted places of seating in its four walls. For a beautifully constructed building, it certainly had a lot of places where seating just didn’t seem normal, nor did the shadow just seem to cast naturally. Krenik had picked such a place.

He had wandered to the left, where the noise seemed to be at abnormally level - too loud to hear gossip from a table across, but quiet enough to speak in lower levels without need to whisper. In short, it was perfect.

Five booths from the door, it was miraculously open, as its previous owners were just departing with a nod of their heads. As Krenik seated, a small girll, dressed in a uniform, walked up to him, holding a tray nearly three or four times her height and possibly her weight as well. Her arms were practically twigs and her body could pass a beanstalk. However, she was small, her shoulders barely passing the table’s surface. She would speak in a soft, careful voice as she asked the night hunter a question, “Hey mister, you thirsty?” If Kresnik responded yes, she would nod quickly, as if eager to please, “Oookaaay, well, what do you want to drink?” A cute little smile would appear as she waited for Kresnik’s order…

However, if he implied that he was waiting for the elf, she would nod with the same energy, “Okie dokie, just tell me if you change your mind!” with that, she (and the giant tray) would disappear into the crowd.

And the crowd. The crowd would be that of legend - the same size that a small festival would bring. Laughter always echoed, along with the shrill cries of a pleased wench, mixed in with the occasional shout or clatter of pewter flagon’s crashing against each other with great gusto. Cheers broke out three tables over - apparently some type of arm wrestling competition - as a drunken song broke out in another corner. Or, to put it simply, the well-loved environment of a busy and well-off inn. Individuals would be hard to pin-point, but a few the hunter would be able to pull from the crowd were only due to his training: a woman sitting by herself, evident by the large bubble the crowd was giving, a bard furiously playing (and gaining the love of the crowd), and a possibility of grave danger…

Suddenly, any other observations would be broken by his elf guide, who held two foaming ales, their tankards barely able to keep their contents within their bowels. “And here we are, mate!” Both came crashing down on the polished table top. Foam spilt over onto the table, but the elf was unphased as he slid into the booth, opposite of Kresnik, “Like I said, nothing like this place, aye? Just how I like it—“ The elf took the drink to his mouth, take a large mouthful and swallowing it with a satisfied slurp, “Loud and drunk!”

Wrapped hands pressed fingertips together as the elf cocked his head to the side, “Now, before names, I think it would be best to tell of our work, aye?” A sly smirk pulled the right side of his lips as he almost tauntingly rose the drink to his lips as he spoke into the tankard, “Bet you can’t decide what I am, mate.”



Tutmose; ???
Barabbas

And start the adventure did. But however, possibly not in the most expected of ways. The dimension traveler would painfully smash his knees to a efficiently constructed cobbled street. While it would not be too painful, the aching sensation would make it difficult to rise immediately.

The world around Barabbas would be something practically from 19th century England. The city itself would evidently be organized in such a way that law and regulation was clear. Everything was in its perfect, set place; the mapping of the city must have been designed by an expert designer. Everything about the city would be evenly spaced, in exact measurements - a gridlock of well maintained streets, smooth stone slabbed walkways and fortified, sturdy homes for who ever lived in this area. Yes, it was an organized and well planned city.

However, it would also not, for it would have some things not of Earth. The houses were crammed together, varying from three to four stories tall, but somehow always having the tallest of buildings in the center of collection of rowed houses. Technology of steam and computerized chip would be beyond common, as well as mechanical beasts that prowled the streets more commonly than that of the carriage and stallion-like animals. Buildings would glow as displays reflected their building’s purpose as windows were pure and clean - unlike those of places. If Barabbas were to look at this city’s skyline, it would be triangle after triangle, positioned like teeth eating the sky. However, these “teeth” would only be interrupted by specifically placed (almost seemingly in a strategic way) of grand buildings that seemed to prominently protrude into the sky, beckoning visitors into their walls.

However, such details would be practically lost on Barabbas for a singular fact. As he turned in the street (already being honked at by traffic), the orinon would definitely see the familiar blue Verdana, boldly declaring “Assembly of Corporate Galactic Peacemaking Efforts.” Unfortunately, he would not see a pair of white gloved hands roughly grabbing him by the shoulders, a thick British accent booming in his ears, “You ah’ undah arrest, intrudah!”

Ganti turned around as she heard her name being called. It was Madeline. “Ganti… I’m-I’m sorry.” the Medusa said apprehensively. “For everything. He had not right telling you that-that way about your…” Ganti turned to the kind medusa, her eyes watering with tears; “Oh Madeline, thank you” Ganti said, with a slight, but genuine smile “… It’s just… it’s just…” Her smile slowly broke into a quivering frown and she looked at the ground. And with that, Ganti broke down in tears, falling to her knees and covering her face, sobbing frantically. In between gasps, she got out the words “Apocalypse,” and “Halcyon” and “Only Fitz…” Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and Gaudete burst out kneeling down next to Ganti, grabbing her much younger aunt and holding on to her. Gaudete turned to Madeline with confusion and concern in her eyes. “What in goddesses name happened?” She asked the Medusa, trying her hardest to calm down the bawling bandit.

“Missile? You mean Kuroda’s guest? In her room, but…” Regardless, as Ganti made her leave, Madeline clicked her tongue in disapproval, a hard look cast in Chad’s direction. “Tsk - you’ve made her upset, you-you…!” Madeline’s face scrunched in frustration as she looked for the right word, slithering past Chad, shouldering him roughly (though her lack of strength would be apparent as she brisker by), “You brute!” A sniffle escaped from her mouth as she passed through the swinging doors…

Chad sighed as Madeline slithered away. "There was no easy way to tell her," Chad contemplated "Maybe I was a bit harsh, but there are greater things at stake here. The sooner she knew, the better..." Chad rubbed his eyes. Chad is starting to feel weight on his consciousness. He felt that the further he continued his pursuit of Missile, the colder he would become. Stress is slowly getting to the best of him, evident by how he responded to Ganti, but he can't be blamed. After all, the mission to save the world was on his shoulder. He has little room for failure. He took a quick glance at the cowboy to see if he was still with him. Regardless of the cowboy's response Chad would say, "I think its best if we give her some time. In the mean time," Chad looked at the Octopus-Man, "Where is Missile?"

The cook looked at Chad for a moment and then return to his grilling and frying. He was obviously upset at what just took place. "Can you at least show me where Missile went?" Chad persisted. The cook glared at the Master Funk, raised a spatula, and slammed it down on the grill. Practically stomping his way out of his cooking space, he dragged Chad off his feet and pulled him in tow, and after passing through the same rooms Missile did not moments ago, Chad would find himself at Kuroda’s lovely, decorated door. "T-Thanks..." Chad replied in a low voice. The cook stuck out his hand and gestured for payment. "Oh, right..." Chad reached in to his pocket and gave the rest of the money he had from Missile paying for his meal. After Chad made his payment he knocked on the door and made his entrance.

"Well Jeannot, it seems your studies will help immensely in our little adventure. If we can figure out my power soon enough, getting my body back will be a mere problem of FINDING Halcyon... Soooo, how soon will this body be done? Cause I am in quite a bit of pain still, and would love a break." He smiled. "And you should try projecting yourself out of this body. It's fun, trust me."

Jeannot responded:
“Exactly! I hope that we can sort out your powers rather quickly. However we will likely end up destroying this new body in learning the extent of your powers as you do seem rather powerful. This one may suffice but if not we will build a better fit. It took at least a hundred bodies for me to first figure it out but now the process it quite easy.” He could sense the pain that Fitz felt in his body and truly it was astonishing that he could bear it so long.

“At this point in the process the body will be completed in a few more minutes and we can put ourselves into it and repair this body and relieve your pain. We can start discerning your powers immediately afterwards. Until then I wanted to ask you about projecting my soul out of the body I didn’t know it was possible to do so on one’s own’ I’ve only done so with a tool. I don’t even know how to go about doing it. But I did notice that Your other half pushed you out of your body which presumably led to our entanglement. Could you do the same to me so that I could feel how it is done? I don’t know how else to do it...”

Fitz scratched his head. Soul projection had always come naturally to him and Halcyon (well, mainly Halcyon because Fitz was in charge of the body for pretty much their entire time in it.) “Maybe…” Fitz thought out loud. “Maybe it has to do with the aura…” Fitz looked at his hands and summoned a bit of light aura. It licked around his right arm like white flame. Fitz cocked his head questioningly, but ignored it. “Truth be told, I’m not an expert on aura. I just kinda use it.” Fitz laughed, but it was true. It just came naturally, and Fitz took it for granted. Maybe he could figure it out on this little adventure. “Alright. You ready Jeannot?” Fitz asked as he began to focus. He siphoned power towards Jeannot’s soul, and it popped out. “Well, you didn’t put up much of a fight!” Fitz chuckled.

“Maybe…” Fitz said through his body. “Maybe it has to do with the aura…” Jeannot felt spiritual power swell slightly and it focused into his hand. Like a white flame it licked around his right arm. “Truth be told, I’m not an expert on aura. I just kinda use it.” Fitz said out loud and laughed. “Alright. You ready Jeannot?” More power swole but this time from no physical reference point, then Jeannot’s soul was suddenly outside his body. “Well, you didn’t put up much of a fight!” Fitz chuckled.

It was weird to see his body from the outside as usual but this time his features were different and it almost scared him a bit to see this change. He was still rather handsome but it was different. Regardless he figured it out and it was quite simple realy. He dove back into the body to try it himself. It felt much like trying to force one’s self through a solid object, but far more convenient as he was in an intangible state. He gathered his soul to a point and “forced” his way through and he was then floating about outside his body without using the severe. He looked at what would be his hands and he was shocked! He was visible!

[Kresnik]
Kresnik took quick note of his surroundings as he waited for his future associate, noticing the strangeness of the lighting. The lighting where he sat should have dispelled the shadows, yet the shadows were thick and welcoming. The noise, mostly the acoustics, were discombobulating; here, it was loud... yet he could hear his own breathing, his own heartbeat, with such clarity that he naturally forgot that he was within a pub; as though he were in a secluded forest, alone, save by being surrounded by the threatening orbs of fairies that quickly silenced any noise... predator or otherwise. However, he quickly snapped out of the nostalgic reverie, reminding himself he was within a magical inn and cursing himself for feeling at home. Ironically, home was a place of orphans, corrupt aristocrats, and the constant threat of death and disease. Kresnik continued his survey until an adorable waitress, the size of a halfling, appeared with a tray far too large for her and must have weighed at least ten times more than she did. He glanced at her and smiled; but his mind wandered to a painful, mournful memory of the Grey Folk of the Dark Realm, of the children... they were inherently evil people, and he had seen what they had done, seen them laughing with mirth born from malice as they watched a normal human being being burned alive by the Black Flame Elementals. The human, though burning, never died... he burned with no visible burns. It was Kresnik who had shown the man mercy... but that mercy was born from rage.

He quickly snapped out of it, clearing his head of the children whom he'd killed with the very flames that tormented the man. The young girl asked him a question, a question he had not heard. However, he assumed it had something to do with either drink or food. "No, thank you..." Kresnik replied kindly, smiling that sad smile. "I am waiting for an associate." He concluded. In response, the young lady left with an adorable adieu. I hope she will be alright... Kresnik thought, feeling somewhat empathetic of the girl. Though the Crossroads weren't like his home, he knew there were horrible people about. That was one constant he truly believed... the wicked existed and lived everywhere, and a place rid of them was merely a lie. The dhampir continued looking around, nevertheless, continuing his surveillance of the inn. There were many interesting figures; however, he picked out the folk who seemed to be radiating a sensation of awe and/or fear. The lone woman appeared to be very powerful and introverted, perhaps possessing many burdens and a volatile personality. The bard was loved by the crowd whom flocked to him, listening to his music (music that was alien to him, but he enjoyed it himself). Then, there was the dark figure whose presence dominated Kresnik's surveillance... this figure was most likely at the Old Boar's Inn on a mission (or a perhaps some dark dealings with the Black Market); however, Kresnik found him, or perhaps it, as a huge danger. The dhampir kept himself in check, reminding him that the dealings and consequences of the Crossroads was to remain their problem, not his.

Eventually, the elf returned, his face one of smiles and mischief. Kresnik's lavender eyes settled on him, taking the mug. However, unlike his companion, he did not drink. "Loud and drunk... that sounds like most inns and taverns," Kresnik remarked cynically. The elf, ever so talkative, started the conversation with a bothersome question. However, he would play the elf's game and analyze him before responding. The dhampir looked the elf up and down, sizing the figure and his character. "An entertainer, of sorts..." Kresnik replied finally, going with a general overview of the elf's clothing and personality. "However, you are not a jester; you have a limp, one that would prevent you from performing certain tricks required of jesters. You wear armor, but it's too light, so you can't be an adventurer, especially with the limp, which marks you as a traveler. If I have to guess, you must be a bard... you seem a little too fond of inns and crowds. Of what specialty, I do not know, but I can tell you talk a little too much about nothing. Or, perhaps you're just a cryptic, speaking of something with little specifics." Kresnik deduced, sighing. "Am I close?" He asked slyly.

Old Boar’s Inn; Kuroda’s Quarters
[Chad M.F./James]

Chad’s payment was accepted with a blunt mixture of a snort and grunt as the octopus man stomped away, leaving Chad and James (who had been quietly off to the side washing dishes through the whole ordeal), were left to their own devices, the cowboy tipping his hat politely in the direction of the departing cook.

“Well.” James observed as he straighter his leather vest, “That could have gone better.” He would continue to comment as Chad knocked, “Still, I think she’ll be fire, all women need is a good cry sometime—“

James had his back turned to Chad, watching the cook disappear behind the door into the storage room they had just passed. However, the sound of Kuroda’s door opening caused his neck to snap towards Chad and his body to whirl around as he swiftly reached to catch Chad’s shoulder. If the Master Funk did not shake the cowboy’s grip off or disappear into the room before James could snag his companion, the cowboy would pull back on Chad. “Woooah there, partner. This is someone’s home. Can’t just go barging in.” If Chad yielded to his companion’s advice, the pair would close the door and knock once more. It would take two more tries, but the door would eventually open, a hooded figure (a woman, judging by the figure and size) would open the room’s door slightly, poking her head out from the safety of the room. Looking both Chad and James up and down once before curtly stating one word: “Yes?”

However, if Chad believe he would be fine and thought the cowboy’s logic foolish, the door would open with no resistance. In fact, it would seem no one was home, though the scene that Missle had seen not two quarters ago would be unlike anything Chad had seen. The “room” was not a normal one, not even close - it would be one grove of cherry trees, their blossoming leaves filling the air with the color of pink and white. A scent so heavenly would drift about their noses  by some unknown source of wind, gently wafting through loose strands of hair and their clothing. The scene before them was peaceful, serene, an absolute oasis in comparison to the chase of the inn. If Chad ventured forward through the shroud of pink and white, he would discover more. If he were to look closely, objects and shapes of a room slowly came to realization. Chairs had transformed into roots, cushions into heaps of soft moss, counter tops and tables into large stones. All of it was so magical.

Yet, some things remained unchanged, such as a bronze bathtub that stuck out of the scenery. That and the name woman, her back turned to both men. But she was no ordinary woman - she had two fox tails, an auburn red like her hair and long foxy ears that were atop her head. both james and Chad had about three seconds to react before her left ear turned, and she revealed her jaw dropping beautify, her face follow her ear’s reaction. A shocked look stamped itself on her beautiful features as James, face flushed, dipped his face downward, along with his western hat, muttering, “Cuse me, miss.” However, this shocked reaction quickly turned to wrath as she scooped up a loose piece of cloth, letting loose a screech of rage as her other hand reached for a pack, removing a handful of shriukens. As she threw them with great effort towards Chad and James, a wrathful scream rang ripped through the air, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”


Old Boar’s Inn; Fitz & Co.’s Room
[Ganti]

The Medusa couldn’t respond. Tears that had started to well up began to slowly pour down her face, as she tried make out words to Gaudette, “I…She… It was…Her husband…I-I’m sorry…” A delicate hand rose to her mouth as turned quickly and slithered away out of sight…


Old Boar’s Inn; Booth
[Kresnik]

“An entertainer, of sorts.”
The bard rose his tankard in salute to Kresnik, muttering comment as the dhampir spoke, the elf speaking with a semi-tipsy droll, “Props to you, mate.” However, as Kresnike continued, the elf’s left eyebrow quirked, raising in surprise as Kresnik finished his details, “Well…” Another swill was taken of the tankard, “We do have a pair of sharp eyes on this one, don’t we?” A lazy wink was cast at Kresnik as the elf continued, “You’ve got me down to the letter, one way or another. Aye, I’m a traveling bard. Spreading my joy,” The cittern clunked against the tabletop as the bard pulled the instrument on top of the table into plain sight, “from place to place, while boozing and loving my way into an early grave.” He would laugh at the last part of his sentence, a joke for himself apparently. “As for being cryptic, well…” The impish smile returned, “Let’s just say I like to keep people on their feet…” Another up-down look.

“But it’s my turn, right, mate?” Suddenly, the bard would slide himself up top of the table, sitting directly on top of the sturdy wooden surface, his green eyes peering into the dhampir’s lavender ones before rolling his gaze over the night hunter himself. As he did, idle hands somehow found their way to their instrument. The cittern began to sing a its tune as the bard’s searching gaze didn’t leave until the idle hands had finished their work.

As Locien looked this way and that, Kresnik’s glance may possibly find itself looking over the ever milling crowd of the Old Boar’s Inn. The mustached bard’s song had just ended, earning the praise and drunken yells of the crowd before him. However, the elf’s playing had suddenly shifted the crowd’s attention slightly, as well as the bard’s, cast an icy glance at Kresnik’s bard, who apparently didn’t even see the glare.

Meanwhile, the dark figure suddenly moved from his position of leaning against a thick, wooden support beam, catching someone by the arm in a very rough manner. - the little waitress that had not moments ago asked Kresnik a question…

Then, something demanded Kresnik’s attention - the elf. Somehow, he had managed to seat himself beside Kresnik, two fingers of his right wrapped hand over his own lips, speaking slowly as he did, “Well, at first I thought it was rather simple. You are dressed in rather… unusual way. A rather skilled sell-sword, no?” Locien then positioned himself on the table once more, cautiously scooting half-a-cheek backward as he continued, “But then something caught my eye, mate. You’re no ordinary sell-sword - you’ve got too much magic around you.” A swig of beer interrupted the banter, “In fact, it’s a very rare type of magic, at least in these parts. And the way you use it, and your ears, your teeth.” The cittern again, began to play, keeping a steady strumming tune (repeat 00:00-00:05), as he continued, “You’re no man, mate. I’d stake my life that you were vampire or something of the like.”

If Kresnik reacted in disdain, or any other slightest of emotions, the elf would pounce on it, “So you are! But you don’t like them - I can see that mate.  Not a sell sword, but a blood hound!”

However, if Kresnik made no reaction to the statement, the elf would continue, “No offense meant, of course. Got nothing against them, not yet anyway. It’s her kind I’m more worried about.” A side glance was directed at the lone woman who was still sitting with a invisible bubble around her.

At that moment, the bard across the way would begin to play louder, eyes locked onto the elf. A mad grin crawled across the drinking bard’s face, rising on top of the table as he muttered sideways to Kresnik, “Be right back, mate - need to put this whore’s son in his place.” The last part of his sentence had been said loudly, loud enough for the crowd to hear and roar at the insult. Shots had been fired, and only one would keep playing by the end of the conflict. With a sweep of his jingling hat, the elf gave the stage to the mustached bard with a bow. Returning the bow (although mockingly), the bard broke out into song. His rough voice caused the crowd to cheer and his guitar sprang forth a fast ditty.

“A Scotsman clad in a kilt left a bar one evening fair, and one could tell by he walked, he drunk more than his share,”

While playing, he managed to sweep up a bottle of ale and drink it without the use of his hands. The trick impressed the crowd, causing several people to cheer as he continued,

“He fumbled round until he could, no longer keep his feet, then he stumbled off into the grass, to sleep beside the streets.”

With a smooth motion, the bard found swept himself off his feet and landed on the hard wooden floor, laying flat out on his back. This is caused the crowd to yell with laughter and cheer, for the mustached man didn’t miss a single beat as he continued, eventually rising to his feet and slowly striding over to his opponent eventually at one of the last verses, stopped playing, and lifted his kilt to reveal a blue ribbon wrapped around his dick as he belted out the following,

“O lad, I don’t know where you been, but I see you won first prize!”

The crowd roared at the insult and cheered him on through the last verse, taking the crowd with a grand bow and mooning the elf at the end of the song.

The elf waited until the crowd was quiet, and then began his previous strumming. The crowd began to shout and boo before the elf raised his hand in silence, halting his playing as he did. The limping bard placed his hands on his instrument and then, all of a sudden, an entire band ripped from the strings, fiddle, drums and guitar all in one as he began to sing. The crowd before the elf gawked and then erupted into cheers and intoxicated yells. The elf sang and played hard, eventually stomping on the table in beat with the music and soon got the crowd to follow.

As fast as it had started, it ended. The crowd ended with a round of hearty applause, feet stomping, and coins being thrown at the table. The elf took his bow, rising to give the defeated mustached bard a friendly parting salute. He then began to sit down, but the crowd wouldn’t have it. “More!” The elf waved them away, “One more!” Someone began chanting and soon the crowd roared two words,

“One more!”
”One more!”

Finally, the elf rose with a reluctant grin on his face, causing the crowd to go wild. A hand was raised, for silence, and then, another song. As he played the first notes, a glance was cast down to Kresnik, the elf mouthing, "Sorry, mate."

At this moment, Kresnik’s eyes could cast about - this obviously wasn’t his thing. But something would come to his attention as the music continued - the woman had begun to move from her chair in the direction of the singing elf. Simultaneously, the lurking dark figure moved from his position and roughly grabbed the small waitress that had only served Kresnik moments ago by the arm, speaking to her with an equally harsh manner, or so it seemed by the frightened look on her face…




The Lows; ???
[Halcyon]

The power. The sheer power.

Halcyon would be string in the middle of the ritualistic circle, the drums beating once more, the masked man chanting - just has it had been before Halcyon and Gerald had interrupted the ceremony. But something was different this time. It was more fevered, excited, terrified.

But then agin, when does your god appear to his followers in his purest form?

It would only take a moment for Halcyon to be ushered into the circle. The bird-masked man would take Halcyon’s silence as a demand to be worshipped and before the chaotic god could interject, he would feel a less than gentle push from behind. Thought its source would be not seen if the god turned, it could be easily assumed that it was Gerald (but who knew?).

As the chanting reached its peak, and the drums beat so fast one couldn’t see the instrument that was banging on the rawhide covering, Halcyon would feel different. His aura would wane and wax, like a living breathing thing all on its own. The shadows all around those present would begin to seep into the walls, the circle, everything - even the minimal candles positioned all around them were strangled inside their barely visible bubbles of light. The darkness became as thick as fog, as black as ink. Something powerful was coming into being. Halcyon’s mass began to contract and expand, growing to monstrous size, energy coursing through his popped veins like a new level of adrenaline.

It was power. Sheer power.

The ritual would end after three quarters, all participants flat on their faces, arms outstretched to the one in the middle of the circle. Even the masked man was completely bent at the waist, arms bent in offering. Silence reigned as they awaited their god’s next words…


???; Jeannot’s Laboratory
[Jeannot/Fitz]

As the new body began to weave itself together, bone sinew, and flesh, the god and soul their would become better acquainted with each other, and their joined abilities. Ametuerish at best, but growing stronger in bond, the two would wait for the clock to move along. Time would be their only barrier for now, as the soul thief well knew. Regardless, it would be good to discover more about each other, especially since Fate seemed to favor their partnership…


Tutmose; R.G.T.S
[TSM]

The shuttle’s ride had been one of silence from all present parties. The only exception was the ever present radio chatter, the receiving and responding of commands, orders, coordinates for their mission.

However, one thing would be for sure: speed. The shuttle itself would have little room for windows, but from what The Story Master could see, through a small porthole window, the world would be zooming by, impossibly to pluck real details below. But, from what Tyros would be able to see, was the passing of the Middle Wall and the High Wall - he soon would be home.

The Highs from above was a sight to behold. All five palaces stood proudly, powerfully in their regional areas. Circular buildings, easily standing twenty stories high, spiked the skyline in homage to the omniverse’s wealthy and influential. The Story master would be able to see familiar landmarks as the shuttle seemed to slow: The Highs College, The Collective Library, The Octagon, The Market Circle, The City Barrack,s and many more.

Slowing down?

Slowing down.

The shuttle halted all together, descending at a constant pace. All soldiers gathered themselves and their weapons, unbuckling and awaiting the order that was quickly barked into the closed space, “Prepare for landing!” Mechanical legs could be heard, vibrating the floor that the soldiers were preparing their formation, the armored individuals lining up near the door. With a heavy and sudden jolt, the aircraft landed and the door began to open, the officer’s voice booming, “Go, go, go! Move it, move it!” The soldiers marched smartly out of their transport and into the bright light. After motioning his soldiers with the constant waving motion of his arm, he would gesture towards Tyros, speaking gruffly as he did, “This way, sir.” Not bothering waiting for Tyros, he would stride hastily out of the aircraft and into the blinding light after his soldiers - apparently, it had been rather dark inside the shuttle compared to light of the Crossroads.

If the Story Master decided to follow immediately or straggle behind, it would not matter - it would take a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but once they did, he would find himself on the outside of the Council Palace. Even though he would have been there a few times in his past, the sight would be none the more breathtaking. To those of Earth, it would resemble the mix of a courthouse, a Greek parthenon, and a fortress wrapped into one, the grand building towering over the present crowd that stood behind a futuristic laser-shield barrier - obviously, there was something wrong that required the mass of the Royal Guard. They stomped about, groups entering and exiting the scene.

Tyros would be able to quickly locate the officer, who was talking to some fellow commanders. However, if he decided to enter the palace himself, there was really no one watching The Story Master…

[Kresnik]

Kresnik kept his wits about him, even in the midst of the banter between himself and the elf, eying the bard suspiciously all the while. When the elf rhetorically asked Kresnik about his turn, the dhampir would only sit in stone silence. The night hunter had been given contracts by many folks, young and old, wealthy and poor, drunk and sober, and some were of questionable lineage... but this elf was far from being professional, and was overly vulgar to boot. However, he kept himself calm and rational as he listened to the bard, memorizing his speech patterns and swagger. This elf... does he think this is a game? Kresnik wondered, trying to peg the entity down. Without a doubt, the bard was a survivor first-and-foremost, but something had been bothering the dhampir too greatly about the man.

However, before he could finally peg the elf for what he was, a couple of events took place. They were small, insignificant things. The first thing he noticed was the mustached bard cast a threatening leer their way--or, more specifically,the elf's direction. Secondly, the sudden motion of the dark-clad figure, grabbing the waitress that had tried to serve Kresnik previously. Kresnik felt his blood run hot, his eyes narrowing slightly. However, the elf found his way next to him, already in the mode of talking, using basic deduction skills to peg Kresnik and his personal identity. When the elf had finished such a task, Kresnik stared into the elf's eyes, his face devoid of expression; however, his eyes hardened, their sheen becoming more like amethysts than flowery lavenders. The elf, however, picked up on the stare and quickly diverted Kresnik's attention towards the lone woman. This is starting to look bad already... he pondered, suppressing a groan of irritation and dismay. However, his attention was once more diverted towards something else... the mustached bard was playing louder and his glare was completely locked upon his contractor. The elf quickly got up and went about his merry way to accept the challenge of the fellow bard.

"We're not getting anywhere..." Kresnik groaned, running a hand over his face. When he heard the songs, Kresnik groaned again, shaking his head. His attention went towards something odd, however... the woman started to move. After noticing that, his attention went to the ominous looking figure. Could this possibly be a trap initiated by those three? He wondered, putting himself on edge. The bard was interested in the elf... the woman didn't start moving until after the elf took up on the bard's challenge... and the only contact with the elf the waitress had was from Kresnik, and the dark figure seemed to have some interest in her. Kresnik did not believe in coincidences, but that line of reasoning, as well as the actions of those three, was the only thing that made him feel very, very uncomfortable. What did that elf drag me into? Kresnik rose from his seat, drawing two daggers swiftly, faster than the human eye could see. In one, fluid motion, he threw his daggers with deadly accuracy towards the woman and at the ominous man holding the small waitress. Kresnik's eyes kept focus on all three of the figures: the woman, the mustached bard, and the dark figure.

“Well.” James observed as he straighter his leather vest, “That could have gone better.” He would continue to comment as Chad knocked, “Still, I think she’ll be fine, all women need is a good cry sometime—“

Chad knocks on the door again but still no answer. As he was about to open the door and walk in, James holds him back. “Woooah there, partner. This is someone’s home. Can’t just go barging in.” Chad looked back at James, "True, but its worth the risk" Chad replied. "I don't particularly like the idea of breaking in someones house either, but the more we explore the better. And besides, if anything happens we could just say we got lost." Chad proceeded to walk through the door.

As he enters the room, Chad finds himself in a garden paradise. "Wow.." Chad whispers in awe. Pink and white cherry blossoms petals danced in the wind and brought aroma to Chad's nostrils. Nostalgia flowed through his mind. "Japan..." Chad murmured. Chad took another deep breath and more memories rushed in.

Although Chad is a couple hundred years from the future, there are some things in history that never change, and cherry blossoms are one of them. Out of all the countries Chad has traveled in, Japan is one of his favorites. Japan is known for being one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world and played a major role in the intergalactic wars in terms of military supplies. It was in Japan Chad received one of his most prized possessions: his katana.

As Chad further explored the room, he found chairs had transformed into roots, cushions into heaps of soft moss, counter tops and tables into large stones. There was a bronze bathtub in front of them and a woman with her back facing them. She had ears and tails like a fox and beautiful red hair. Chad, having a weakness for women with red hair blushed slightly, but he looked over at James and his face was as red as a tomato and tips his hat down covering his eyes. “Cuse me, miss.” James muttered. The woman twitched her ears and turned to face them revealing her beauty, but to their surprised, the woman's beauty turns into rage and she attacks them, throwing a handful of shurikens as she roared, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

Chad reacted quickly and grabbed James by the shoulder and he teleports both of them away from the shurikens and reappears point blank in front of the fox woman. Chad draws his katana and points it to the woman's throat. Assuming the woman is Japanese, Chad speaks in her native language. "Shinobi are supposed to kill swiftly, silently, and show no emotion. You of all people should know that letting a scream out like that is not the way of a shinobi." Chad says with a smile, clearly showing off his experience but at the same time making it clear that he does not mean harm. Chad did not mean it so much as an insult but more like constructive criticism.

If the woman pacifies, Chad will sheathe his sword and apologize for the intrusion and introduce himself and James and continue the conversation in English. If the woman decides to attack, Chad will try his best to fend for himself and James although he can't use his teleportation for another 10 seconds.