Playground of the Omniverse IC

The Lows; The Old Boar's Inn
[Pullo/Missle]

A string of curses would immediately follow Missle's sing song taunting, but the dicionous would not be able to tell what she was saying. However, one thing was clear - this cat fight would not stay in the room. Bess's arm would have already pulled through the now holed door and would have opened with tremendous force as an enraged vampire would have screamed through. But there was one thing Bess hadn't counted on: a flying figure launching toward her.

With a tremendous impact, both females would fly out of the room and hit the floor with a incredible thump, easily sliding across the wooden floors and smashing into another door, the wooden door across the hall. In the tangle of bodies and blood curdling screams, Bess would have some how managed to get on top, clawing Missle's face, neck, and boobs, cursing and shrieking like a banshee, fully intent on ripping her rival to shreds...

The impact didn't startle Missile much - no, what startled her was suddenly being on the bottom and having nails scrape her flesh. "You bitch, that's my best shirt!" She screamed like an animal and slammed her fists into Bess's face, vectors grabbing the nearest object - in this case, what seemed to be a coat rack - and brought it slamming down at Bess's back, trying to get an upper hand; being torn to bitty flesh chunks wasn't on her agenda!

It didn't really occur to the diclonius that they'd broken into someone else's room - hell, another room altogether - but she was really quite disappointed that they hadn't broken through the floor and into the tavern below. Live ammunition - ahem, other people - were great for bludgeoning stupid people to death. Her primary concerns embodied a group of things - not waking Pullo up, not pissing off the Boar, and getting Bess the fuck off of her!

Western Gate of Tutmose
TSM/Tara

Today hadn't been much. Just the usual for the guardsmen: Lumbering carts of the WildWood folk, well armored carriages of the Highs' nobles, travelers coming and going en masse. A heavy sigh would blow from the armored man's invisible mouth, a jet black helmet concealing his face, and thus his identity. A similarly armored individual would turn its head (sex would be impossible to identify) in the direction of the sign of boredom, a chuckle issuing with a sound of a radio. "Bored, solider?" A chuckle of amusement would pass between them.

As bored as they were, they would be glad. Gate watch was as close they could get to safety. They all knew about the dangers this city could hold. It wasn't called the Crossroads for nothing. They knew, that even at this very moment, brothers and sisters of the Tala were protecting the citizens of the Middles and Highs.

A cry from above their heads caused their conversation to never receive an answer, as a broadcasted message was transmitted in their earpieces. "Tower Four, this is Eye Seven. I just picked up some unusual readings. Standby." Both sentries tensed, hands already reaching to their hips for the weapon that swung lazily at their sides. There was radio silence for a moment, and then, "Tower Four, looks like some fog just popped up. Can't really tell where it came from."
"This is Eye Four, can confirm that it wasn't there a moment ago. Weather isn't supposed to happen for another month, right?" Suddenly, a distant boom was heard. All present people shuddered, as a few screams of fright came from some of the crowd present at the Western Gate. Already, more Tala sentries shouted to keep the situation under control. More reports came in.

"This is Eye Three, readings are picking up signs of highly volatile magics"
"Affirmed - standing by."
"All Sector Four Personal, this is Tower Four - resume positions, standby for immediate action."

The two sentries looked at eachother once more as they removed a batons from their side. Suddenly, it sprang into a spear. The action would have startled the present traveling peoples, but they quickly announced the situation. "Just doing our job, people. Move along." Tension was present, but not enough to cause panic. "Waiting." The first sentry muttered to the one next to it, "I hate the waiting." Moments passed, but nothing. Until the radio silence was broken once more. "Tower 4, this is Eye One. I have eyes on the perimeter - something is definitely out there... And it's big."

Though distant, a sound was heard that caused the travelers before the gate sentries to scream in a barely suppressed panic: a frighting roar was heard over the horizon. More report came flying in:
"Anyone see that?"
"Looks like a flare or something."
"Fire magic?"

The confusion was settling in over the Sector Four Personal. The fog was coming closer to the walls and people were beginning to panic. It seemed that chaos would rule until clear orders were blasted over the airwaves of the Gala's transmitters. "Sector Four, battle stations."

Suddenly, the wall came to life. All matter of wall defense gear, everything from buckets of oil to laser cannons appeared on top of the Western Wall of Tutmose, unfolding like some sort of mechanical beast. A hundred strong began manning their positions. Thunderous wind would be heard, but none would feel it. The Western Gate was slowly shutting, sentries urging people to return to the safety of the wall.

And there would be waiting. Lots of waiting for the invasion of Tutmose - something that had not happened in a very, very long time.

++++

The Lows; Old Boar's Inn - 2nd Floor
Missle/Pullo

The ruckus created by both women was becoming a thing of legend. The screaming banshees terrified the young couple they had smashed into, yelling and crying as the vampiress and dicionius smashed through their door and began rolling. Bess gave a gasp of pain as the coat rack knocked the wind out of her, clearly giving Missle the upper hand as the waitress attempted to roll under the bed in agony. If Missle was not too focused on smashing her nemesis to a bloody mess, she would hear the man yell, "Go get help! I'll try to stop them!" Rough hands would lay on Missle's shoulders as the woman fled out the door, and more than likely to the bar...

He emerged from the fog and it faded behind him as he ran. With the sword held awkwardly in his hand under the girl, he ran twice as fast as he would normally, though with the weight of the girl that was only about as fast as his normal run at full speed. If all was clear he would run directly to the gate without stopping. And he would tell the guard a dismal tale.

The guard may not have seen the dragon, however he was certain that they would have heard its roar. It was also likely if that bard had seen the fox's fire from so far, then the guard might have seen flame from within the fog. And there was no doubt they would have noticed the unnatural fog, which appeared suddenly and would now dissipate in like manner. This would draw suspicion on the two.

With the sword's aid in speed, he made quick work of the mile or so separating them from the impressive gates.

As they approached The Story Master began to scream and holler frantically,

"Help!" He cried. "Dragon!" He screamed between exhausted breath. "You must help us! We are in danger; we were attacked!" His hysterics were more than convincing, he had effectively worked himself into a fit. "Dragon! Please, you must grant us entry!" He pleaded with the cold metal gates looming over them. He pounded his fist on it again and again, barely keeping the girl up with one arm. He began to weep as he fell to his knees, the girl in his left arm and draped over his thighs. He looked at her intensely. She was very weak in his arms. He checked her pulse; it was faint. New and sincere tears welled in his eyes. The amulet brought him to this girl but helplessly he could do nothing to save her. His tears fell out of torment and failure and sorrow.

"Please... she will perish... she will die..."

"Launch will commence in 3 minutes." Chad breathes in deeply as he hears this buzz in his ear piece. He brushed his hair with his hands and sat back on his seat trying to relax. It is the first time in the history of humanity that some one attempts to travel through space at light speed. Aliens from other galaxies visited Earth many times before but never a human went to visit another galaxy.
Chad is one of the top agents of I.P.A (Intergalactic Patrol Agency). I.P.A specializes in alien activity from other galaxies, dimension, and even time as other alien races successfully mastered time travel. Being part I.P.A, Chad has seen bizarre things in his career, from weird looking alien races to giant egg vomiting frogs.
As Chad sits on the pilot seat nervously and absent minded, he hears another buzz in his ear piece, "30 seconds until launch." Chad replies "Initiating primary boosters". The ship begins to hover in place and charges its engine making a loud whirring sound. "Launch will commence in 5... 4... 3... Hold on! There's somethi-!!" It was too late. Before Chad could hear the warning he was violently launched into space. He could not move and all he could see was a powerful flash of light burn against him. No one knows how much time passed when Chad woke up. He was lying on the concrete floor in a dark alley with some strange people looking at him from a distance. They whispered to each while staring at Chad. He was covered in some trash which had a faint fishy smell. Behind him he saw a trail of debris leading to his ship, now completely wrecked and smoke rising from its remains. He sat up, his body aching with pain, and looked down the alley's wall and saw there three stenciled, painted words: "Old Boar's Inn."

Missile wrapped four of her vectors around Bess to keep her pinned down and snarled as the woman ran out of the room. A fifth vector shot out and snapped to hold her ankle and trip her up to keep her from getting help. "This filthy bitch is mine to deal with, you-!"

When the man grabbed her shoulders, she froze. Both Bess and the woman's ankle would feel a sudden tightening of the pressure on them before she shoved the man backward with a sixth and seventh vector. An eighth and ninth grasped at his wrists and ankles with the former pair and she turned around, eyes wide with bloodlust. "Touch me again and I will tear you and your pretty little lady friend into pretty red ribbons," she said, perfectly level. Her face contrasted her easy tone with a manic half-grin, half-grimace. "I guess you're new to Tutmose. Let me introduce myself." She walked up to him and stood on her toes. "I'm the Missile. This wench is employed by the Boar downstairs and she won't-" She shook Bess hard for emphasis once, then twice. "Won't fucking stop flirting with my lover."

She let her smile take a fake, friendly appearance. "So if you don't mind, don't mess in matters that don't matter to you. I'll pay for the door, lovey!" She walked toward the door, counting in her head how many vectors she had free. Twenty three, minus nine... equals-

An explosion rocked the building and she grabbed the door jamb to stabilize herself as she stared out the window. "... Is that normal?" she asked placidly. She loosened her grip on the man and woman, though didn't relinquish her hold on the vampiress.

Tutmose;Western Gate
TSM/Tara

The Western Wall was in uproar. The Gala were indeed arming their battle stations and come hell or high water, they would be ready to repel any major threat that had called for such a major defensive action. This is why all that were armed and ready to defend their home were slightly surprised when the next order came from their commanding HQ. "Sector Four, standby."

Such actions usually called for "fire at will" or at the very least, "Brace yourselves." The Western Tower seemed unsure. It was radio silence, all hands tense, all eyes focused on the horizon for a horror beyond compare. But then, "Tower Four, this Gate Eye Two. Sensors are detecting life at our gate. Standing by."
"10-4 Gate Eye Two. What does it read."
"A human civilian, possibly two. Sensors unable to decipher second life form as dead or alive."
"Noted. Hailing now."

From The Story Master's point of view, no matter of yelling or beating the door senseless was going to help. His charge was dying and there would be no way of receiving help now. The very likely possibility of defeat loomed over the pair like death itself. Suddenly, the once seemingly decorative circle on the gate before him suddenly transformed into an eye, it's color laser red. Most of his pleading would have been missed, but one thing was clear as day, "Dragon! You must grant us entry!"

"Sector Four, this is Central Tower - all aggressive action is green light. Begin warning barrage." With that, the sky lit up with lasers and all matter of projectile, literally painting the High Time sky a blood red. More orders came flying over the airwaves as the eye kept steady gaze upon The Story Master and his charge. "Do not open the gate; prepare extraction team. Execute Operation Harbinger."
"Harbingers deployed - ETA three minutes."

Meanwhile, The Story Master, regardless what he would say, would be ignored. Any amount of pleading would apparently go unseen or unheard by the eye, at least until he saw three metal-like cord drop like deadly icicles, plummeting no three feet from him into the ground, easily leaving divets. The eye would suddenly speak in a ringing, metallic voice, "Remain where you are, human. You are now under the Tala's custody. Any resistance will be met with swift and deadly consequences." In the vertical distance, The Story Master could see three figures descending rapidly, complete with the necessary rigging and four harness. Before long, three of the Tala were present and surrounding The Story Master, weapons extended to their full length and crackling with energy. Any words from the Story Master, whether thanks or protest of the missing fifth harness would be met with no words. Regardless of he would do, one of the three would electrocute The Story Master with high voltage and send the man plummeting into darkness...

----

The Story Master would jerk awake. He would find himself in a blank room, minus the mirrored surface that reflected all around him; even the ceilings, floor and furniture would be one giant mirror. The only light source would be that of a globe that hovered over his top hatted head, dimly giving the man his surroundings. His wrists were shackled to the table before him; no slack was existent, giving uncomfortable hunched position to The Story Master. His ankles would also be suffering a similar fate, constricted to the stiff chair that he found himself sitting upon.  Before he had time to think, a figure began to phase in (think teleporting), appearing to sit on the chair before the table he was bound to...

++++

The Old Boar's Inn; 2nd Floor
Missle/Pullo

The amount of intensity and murder in Missle's voice caused the couple's mouths to fall open, their eyes of saucer plates. The wife began to what sound like a hyena and a baby - it would be near impossible to tell if she were nervously laughing or repressing frightened sobs. The man made to speak, lifting a finger as he did (both hands would have immediately tucked into his chest once Missle gave  her... "advice"), but then a tell-tale boom ripped through the foundations of the Old Boar's Inn - not an easy feat, to the least).

"You tell us, dearie." The pair, would instantly give a cheshire grin at the woman, each now on opposite sides of her front or back, the woman somehow to slip her grasp like oily water. "You're from around here, aren't you?" The instant change of expressions, the now paleness of their skin and the stretching of the lips toothy smiles... Something wasn't right. "Thank you for being such a generous individual." The man stated, his blank, wide eyed gaze boring through her soul; a hand extended. Regardless if Missle attempted to shake it or not, it would uncontrollably melt into a large, razor sharp tooth, slowly at first, but then quite rapidly. A disguise.

Suddenly, the "disguise" would reveal more and more teeth, instantly protruding from the man's chest, the shape of a jaw and mouth's opening quickly forming around Missle's kneeling figure, joining more than likely with its other half behind her. Teeth ould begin to close in around the diclonius, a disgusting fate almost sealed...

As he was wretched by the emotions that welled within him he heard metal begin to stir above them.

Suddenly all manner of armament lined the walls and from them was loosed all manner of destruction in the form of lasers and explosives. They flew over their heads and off towards the place the dragon had gone on its rampage.

He tried his best to cover his ears and pull the girl closer to the wall for better protection, which was difficult to do at the same time.

The instant the barrage ended three metal cords fell from the top of the wall. Behind him he barely heard, "Remain where you are.... are now under... custody... resistance will be met with swift and deadly consequences." His ears still ringing, when three dark figures belayed down each cord.

"Please, take the girl." He pleaded before they figures electrocuted him...

He jerked into consciousness in one abrupt motion as he attempted to stand on his feet. But his motion was restricted due some form of bondage. Frantically he looked to find his hands and feet shackled to a table that he was forced to sit at. He surveyed his surroundings and was nothing but confused. A room of mirrors, a table, and two chairs, including the one he was sitting in. But that was all. He was confused and felt incredibly weak. His senses were dull, as if he had been drinking heavily. Despite this fact he could tell he was alone, which worried him. Where was the girl?

Suddenly, there appeared a man before him. He must have teleported into the strange room. This probably meant that he was still in the Crossroads. The man appeared sitting in the chair opposite of him. Before the teleporter had a chance to say anything The Story Master spoke loud and frantically, "Please sir, with all respect due, I beg of you, tell me what happened to the young woman I was with?" The tone of his voice was frantic but he apeared composed.

Pullo Half-Human's form was as limp as a rag-doll and a fair amount heavier as Missile dragged him onto the bed. His elfish form was lean but he was still tall and not without musculature and the mystical guitar strapped to his back didn't make him any easier to move. Drunk, drug addled, suffering from exhaustion and dehydration Pullo was dead to the world around him and didn't respond to or even notice Missile's moving him to the bed, the arrival of Bess or the ensuing taunts that turned to violent argument between the two women. At some point after they started smashing doors and furniture the bard clearly was disturbed though; he half sat up suddenly and loudly declared “THUNDERWHOURSE!” before collapsing back onto the bed and back into complete unconsciousness.

"What in the goddesses names were you thinking?!?!" Fitz yelled at Halcyon. Ganti was sprawled on the bed. She had been expecting this to happen. "I wish we could have just stayed in Invot..." she muttered. Gaudete was sitting in a chair by the window, looking outside at the expansive town. Their room had a nice view; she could look down and see the people bustling about, and look out along the city skyline. It was cloudy, but in the distance, she could see a sparkling light. Focusing in on this light, she could sense a strong presence being emitted from it. Whatever was there, it was big and it was powerful. Halcyon was floating across the room, back to Fitz, arms folded. "I was getting information." He responded coldly. "And what I got, will interest you greatly." Fitz's face went from fury to confusion. "... What?" What is he hiding from me? Fitz thought. "Halcyon. Tell me." "Well," Halcyon sighed, facing Fitz, "We're not in Fiore." Every head in the room jerked towards him. "... You're kidding... right?" Fitz asked. "Nope." Halcyon replied, shaking his head "That little display of our power down there would not have cause such a stir if we were in Fiore. No, we are in a different dimension." Fitz clenched his hands and grit his teeth. "No..." He muttered. Ganti gasped "But... Fitz, what will happen to Hal??" Fitz brought his hands together, "I'll just cut us back into Invot. This trip was stupid from the beginning." Shadow aura began to wave around Fitz's hand, and then... nothing. "... Fitz?" Gaudete asked "Where is your sword?" "I... I..." Fitz stuttered. "I have my Shaed Swords but the Sword of the Hero. It's... gone..." Ganti clamped her hands to her mouth to avoid whimpering. "Well," Halcyon eased closer to Fitz "We could always use... mine-" "NO." Fitz stated. "There is no telling what you'd do. The sword has to be somewhere in this place. I guess tomorrow we'll just have to find it." "And how will we do that?" Ganti asked. "I don't know I'll just... look, lets figure this out in the morning."

The lights were out and the sound of slow breathing filled the room. Fitz and Ganti were together in bed, having fallen asleep hours ago. Gaudete sat in the same seat still, having a sense of uneasiness about the distant light and their new predicament. "We'll have some fun there soon." a voice whispered in her ear. She jerked around to see Halcyon floating right behind her. "But don't worry. It will all be OK in the end..." Halcyon dissipated into the air. She shuddered; how they were related she would never know. Transfiguring into her trademark blue ball of light, she settled down for some rest, hoping that tomorrow would go smoother.

Tutmose; ???
[TSM]

As soon as the teleporting person had formed in front of the imprisoned man, The Story Master would hear the sharp hiss of compressed air being issued from the suited human in front of him. He would then witness a pair of suited arms removing the helmet and reveal a strange woman in front of him. The voice would strangely alter from a radio covered sentence to that of, not a man's voice, but a woman's, possibly to The Story Master's surprise. Regardless, his plea would be answered in the most blunt manner possible, her voice pitiless and maybe even bored: "No."

She would rise suddenly, casting a glance at the wall to the left, as if checking for something, before redirecting her gaze back to her prisoner. "I don't believe that you are in any position to be asking questions, let alone making demands." Her athletic, suited frame would quickly lean squarely against the table, hands on either corner of the table as her masked eyes, or lack of eyes, bore into The Story Master's own green gaze. Her voice was demanding respect and was far from reasoning - she was a straight shooter.

"Let me make this as crystal clear as possible, human." Her face leaned in close, intimidatingly close. The Story Master would be able to smell as sweet scent of some sort of foreign flower and he would be able to feel stray strands of her impressively flowing mohawk falling over the brim of his hat. "I am going to ask you a series of questions, quickly, and you will answer them truthfully. I will then decide what happens to your miserable corpse."

A brief moment of silence, and a slow inhale of air was taken in by The Story Master's captor before she rapidly spat out three questions, as promised.

"Who are you, why are you here, and why are you harboring a dragon?"

====

Tutmose; ???
[Tara]

Blinding light. That's all that would be present at first. But then, sound came with the painful eye stabbing pain that came with the over head light. Tara might recognize the situation in front of her. She was on a lab table, or something that of that nature. Everything was white around her - from the walls, to the futuristic equipment, to the two floating orb-like robots that hovered around her body. To her left, if she managed to squint past the white light, she would see a person in some sort of lab coat, though the sex of said person would impossible to tell, thanks to a equally white helmet.

If she moved too much or made any sort of sound of life, the person would turn around and exclaim in a radio-masked voice. "Oh good, you're awake." The person would come closer, slowly and with slight caution, addressing Tara as it did. "I am Doctor Sophie Former. Who are you?"

However, if Tara was startled, and made attempts to escape, things may have begun to get... messy.

Fitz jolted awake. "Damn..." He muttered. He was startled awake by a loud noise and yelling from the rooms above his. "Who on earth is making this ungodly noise at this hour..." He got up and threw on his coat. "Halcyon." Fitz called for his soul. "Right here babe." Halcyon responded, rising from the ground underneath Fitz. "You know, if we put that in context, we would sound extremely narcissistic. Don't call me babe." Fitz replied, rubbing his eyes. "Let's go upstairs and shut up these people." On the way up, Fitz heard more banging and yelling. How this boar guy gets any business beats me... Fitz thought to himself. As he got to the top of the stairs, he felt an explosion and was thrown down the first flight of stairs again. "What the..." He summoned his Shadow Swords and dashed to the top of the stairs. Down the hall, he saw the wreckage of a couple doors. He dashed towards them till he got to the broken doors. In one, he saw a drunken, passed out man with a hot dog in a bed. "Umm... O.K..." he muttered. Then he turned around and saw the source of the commotion. It was an odd sight. A young woman was standing in the middle of a messy room. There were two "people" standing on either side of her, growing... spikes? Fitz had no way of describing them. Also there, the waitress from downstairs was hanging in midair.  "What in my name," Fitz shouted, "Is going on here???"

White.

As if she was floating among the clouds, Tara was surrounded by white.
Could it be the afterlife? Heaven? Everything seemed to shine and blur her view.
Tara felt a sense of peace and closure in the place. Without a doubt, she wished to be dead. She wished to be lost in the light, in the blur, and in the air.

However, the serenity started to disappear as her senses became more clear.
What seemed to be fleeting images came back to her. Tara could feel the dry eyelids separating. She felt the wind swift through her nostrils, and the coldness from the table started to creep on her skin.

'I'm still here.'

Like being sober, her realization struck her hard. Tara felt her heart squeeze from an inexplicable stress. Her eyes started to cry, but they were too dry for any tears.
Her memories became more vivid.

Could it have been hours? Days? Months? Her past wasn't worn off yet. She could still hear the chains shackle and the incoherent growls. She could feel her body being submerged in darkness and the stench of dead flesh. Tara's mental state was even darker. Yet, her last memory wasn't the darkness.

It was a figure. A figure of... a man. Her mind could not clear the foggy view of the man's face in her memory.
But below his face was an amulet - an amulet that dangled in her face when he bent over to get closer.

'Oh, God,' she thought. What could it be now? Was months of imprisonment not enough? Could it have been Piyavka? But Piyavka never carried an amulet.
Besides, he had never took interest in looking after the Unwanted Children. Was it possible that someone worse than Piyavka took her?

All these racing thoughts were interrupted when a robot hovered over her.
There was no time to think. All throughout her life, the pattern of choices given was to do or die, and there wasn't a reason for it to change then.
She visualized the perfect way to escape. Then, Tara thrust herself off the table and started running towards the exit.

Or she thought she did. In reality, she fell off the table and broke her wrist as she landed on top of it with her chest.
She let out an earsplitting shriek as she noticed how her limbs were too weak to even move. Suddenly, several robots and a doctor-like figure started to gather towards her, and she screamed, "did he put you up to this? Let me go! Let me go!"
As they got closer and closer, she cried, "LET ME GO!"

The teleporter removed the mask only to reveal a smaller mask underneath which covered the eyes and black hair, shaved close on the sides with a strip left long down the middle of the scalp. This made it clear the masked person before him was woman and immediately The Story Master was embarrassed; he had called her sir. Blood rushed to his face and he straightened up as best he could under the restrain of his shackles. She answered him with a hint of frustration and boredom, “No.” It was a cold voice, but one that could only belong to a woman.

  Though he was embarrassed, he was indeed overjoyed. The single word the woman spoke was telling. There was no reason for her deny him the information if the girl were dead. He was convinced that the girl was alive and he hid his joy, but this was reason enough for him to preserve his own life, so for now he would be compliant.

   The woman approached The Story Master and leaned in close, rather uncomfortably so, and began a brief rant. Her unattractive hair shown beautifully in the dull light and it swayed as she spoke. The black of her hair resembled the clutch of uncertainty that lingered in the mirrored room. At the end of her short invective speech she asked three questions:

   "Who are you, why are you here, and why are you harboring a dragon?"
These were questions The Story Master had not wanted to answer but he had anticipated they might soon be asked. He took a short breath, nodded politely, and said:

   “Of course, but first, please forgive me miss. I could not make the distinction due to your outer mask. It was insensitive, and you have my humble apologies.”

   “ To answer your questions, my name is Tyros Atrems, though most know me in the Tutmose as The Story Master. I know not why I am here but I have been here before. You may know a good friend of mine from the Highs, Antony Savant.” At this point he assumed a confused look and tone, “And I dare say I am not harboring a dragon.”

Tutmose; ???
[TSM]

The interrogator would remain close to The Story Master's face as he answered the given questions and quickly retorted as soon as he was done speaking. "Oh look, he has manners." She commented drolly, rolling her stiff stance off from the table towards the wall behind her, an armored suited hand pinch the bridge of her mask's nose. A tired sigh issued half from her nose, half from a closed mouth in an almost regretful manner as she paced back towards him, speaking as she did. "Well, Tyros Atrems, let me tell you what I think." She held the elbow of the arm that sat an angle, her fingers still pinching the mask's bridge. "I think what you're giving me is a rather well practiced story. Not a single dragon has been spotted since the days of The Draconian Purge, and all of a sudden a dragon appears out of nowhere and you expect me to believe you aren't some how connected?" The frustrated hand was now gesturing in a questioning manner, bent back at the wrist, palm upward. "Our scanners did detect a dragon, no doubt about it. It was there and then it was gone." Her back turned to him in a thoughtful manner, her hand now slowly going to her chin in a thought manner. "You appeared as quickly as the dragon disappeared..."

Suddenly, she would whirl around, both hands slamming on the mirrored desk, the glass crunching under the violent outburst; the interrogator would be nose to nose with Tyros. Yet, no words were spoken - all that was there was the black void that hid behind the mask, the empty space looking piercingly into The Story Master's eyes. Then, "...And you expect me to believe that one is not connected to the other?" She seemed she would have continued, but a single blip interrupted her. She would slowly relax, the ferocious stance she had taken fading into one of resistance. Her supporting hand would raise to her ear, two fingers relaxing over the earhole. A faint grimace would pull at the corner of the right side of her mouth as she slowly turned from the desk. The wall behind her suddenly split open, four shutters opening and revealing a smooth stone corridor. As she left the interrogation room, another figure entered, giving a nod to her departure. He would enter, removing gloves as he did, and then sit on the chain opposite of The Story Master. He would briefly sniff at the broken shards on the table and then swept them off with a swift stroke of his gloves before refocusing his attention on Tyros, the wall behind him shifting back into its illusionary state. "You spent a series of years in The Highs, did you not?"

====

Tutmose; ???
Tara

Tara's sudden outburst and (miserably failed) attempt to escape would result in a very unexpected action - at least by her standards. "Restrain her!" The lab coated figured would cry out. Immediately, the two robots would grasp either of Tara's arms, scooping her up by the under the armpits. Meanwhile, the labcoat cried out frantically, "Sweetie! Sweetie, calm down!" White gloved hand would remove the helmet on its head in a scrambling fashion, revealing a woman. "We're not here to harm you - we're here to help you. I'm Dr. Sophie Former." The robots would lift Tara back on top of the glass table, leaving her in a seat position. The doctor would continue to speak, slowly and gently place a gloved hand on the side of her arm. "You're safe now."

Glancing down at Tara's new injury, the doctor muttered, "Now, let me take a look at your arm..." If Tara resisted, a glance from the doctor would cause her robotic nurses to restrain Tara according to how much the girl was struggling. Sophie would observe, lifting and slowly turning the damaged wrist with a practiced hand, looking from it to the girl to check for pain and other reactions. "Well, at least it appears to be a clean break. Let's check under the xray though." Quickly, one of the mechanical nurses would issue forth a scanning light, a thin non-lethal laser scanning over the broken appendage twice with robotic diligence. A tablet would be pulled from the doctor's labcoat, the image of glowing black and white hologram issuing from the thin device. "Just as thought. You made a clean break - see?" Sophie would flip the image towards Tara with a small smile and a quick sweeping motion of her hand, showing the xray to the girl. "Let's start fixing that." As the nurses floated away, leaving Tara to who her own devices, Sophie would ask a question in a hesitating voice. "So... what's your name, sweetie?"

++++

Old Boar's Inn; Second Floor
[Fitz/Halcyon/Missle/Pullo]

The deadly scene that had unfolded so swiftly froze in time, almost comically. Even the forming shape shifting monster that had begun to show its true form around Missle stopped, its jaws only half protruding sword length teeth, aiming towards the diclonius. All visible eye seemed to look at the arrival of Fitz/Halcyon with dumbfounded stupor, at least by the viewpoint of a passing stranger, if there had been any.

However, Bess was the first to recover, her fierce demeanor suddenly transformed in that of a damsel in distress, "Ay mistah! Halp aught a laday, ay? This crazay bitch ahttaked me fo' no gawddawmn reas'an. Ay was just mai'den mah own business and she cawms and--!" The waitress, however, was rudely interrupted by the shape shifting monster as it refocused on eating Missle. However, if the bard's lover had been quick and had gathered her wits about her, she may have been able to gain just enough time to escape the monster's digestive tract...

++++

The Lows; Alleyway
[Chad, M.F.]

Chad's not so subtle crash landing had luckily not gather much attention. Well, "much" may be a strong word...

While he had not been with his ship, as the man had miraculously been ejected by some strange good fortune, his choice of transportation now resemble a crumpled copper bullet, completely totaled against the alley wall of the Old Boar's Inn warded walls. If he managed to get past the possible shock trauma, the heavy disorientation, and the piercing ringing his ears, he would realize fate had only saved him for a rather unpleasant event. Three voices, one resembling a gargling gutter, one resembling squeaky rusty bed springs, and one resembling a talking parrot, conversed, getting closer and closer with every word.

"What the hell was that?"
"Ain't you ever seen a newcomer arrive?"
"Never, mate. Suppose he's still alive?"
"Doesn't matter - dead or alive, his stuff is ours."

Possibly under the influence of a dizzy head and a spinning world, Chad would see a gigantic rat-like humanoid, a tall, scarecrow-looking, raven, and an unusual female with a hat approaching his fallen body at the pace of a fast jog. Before he knew it, heavy hand and claw were falling upon Chad's person...

"Well, that's different." Missile tilted her head, a grin coming to her face. "Haven't fought something bigger than me since Bowser burned down his shop." She rolled her shoulders and shifted into a crouch, ready to-

"What in my name is going on here???"

She stared at the man in the doorway for a moment, raising an eyebrow; she'd consider him more thoroughly later, but for now, she had a situation to deal with.

The diclonius had seen some weird things in the Playground - shapeshifters, Lovecraft's little babies, pretty sure she'd seen a rendition of Hellboy somewhere at one point and recognized so many pop-culture icons that she started to wonder if there was a universe involving whales turning into pots of petunias after all.

Missile cracked her jaw, counting the visible teeth closing around her while the monster was distracted. One, two... six... five.. twenty five - no, twenty-six, she saw as she raised an eyebrow. More were beginning to protude.

Yeah, that'd do.

Rescinding her grip on Bess, twenty of her vectors launched out, wrapping around the teeth and pulling in every direction with every pound of strength they contained while pushing the jaw in the opposite direction that it was trying to go - ergo, trying to snap whatever jawbone it had, if any at all or just shred its mouth.

Her remaining three vectors grabbed the nearest window, shattering the glass, and she yanked herself from between the two, snarling before shouting to the stranger (Fitz), "If you're any good with those blades, shred the bastards and the bitch while you're at it!" Her feet hit the wall above the window and she propped herself against the ceiling with one hand. Her muscles tensed, a grin stretching her mouth again. Pity Pullo wouldn't wake up, he'd love to kill this thing!

"Damn!" Coughed Chad, "What was that?" A bit dizzy and disoriented, Chad struggles to sit up and rubs his eyes. A dull pain rang through out his body. Chad notices his ear piece is still intact and with a slight smile of hope on his face he tries to contact HQ. He places a finger on his ear piece, "This is Chad, what happened?". Static is Chad's only response. A bit concerned Chad tries again to make contact. "This is Chad do you read me?". Once again Static cried from his ear piece. Despair sank into his chest and his smile faded away. Chad became desperate and started yelling in his ear piece. "Respond dammit!! I need help!!" Static once again mocks Chad in his despair. "No...", Chad whispers as he drops his arm, and falls back looking up to the sky. With little time to reflect on his situation Chad hears multiple foot steps approaching him with an awkward raspy voice, "Doesn't matter - dead or alive, his stuff is ours".

Chad felt grimy claws grab his arm and lift him up to his feet. Before the other assailants could react, Chad kicked away his opponent, breaking free from his grip. He flinched from the pain and dizziness but he was in good enough condition to stand. He noticed how they looked like some sort of humanoid animals. Chad looked around for an escape, but found himself surrounded by walls and a wrecked ship behind him. Chad faced his assailants ready to fight and asked, "What the hell are you?".

Marn stretched in his old armor, the blue-grey leather just as flexible as it always was. It had been some time since he had put it back on, but he seems to have kept in shape since his time in the army. It hadn't taken long for the feel of the armor to become normal for him, the weight comforting in a way. He rubbed the gems in the palms of each glove, one a bright green, the other a dull grey-brown, reminding himself of their presence. Though he couldn't feel them, he knew there were two clear stones put in each of his boots.

For the last few years this armor, along with the stones he kept, had been wrapped and hidden in the basement of his herbalism shop behind several drying racks of herbs and at the bottom of a box of bandages, but today was a special day. Marn glanced back at his comrades, a mage, one from his company no less, and three former soldiers. Marn was originally surprised to see another one of his company had survived the mage purges, but on reflection, the old empire did a good job of rounding up and putting to work any mages they could find, meaning all the governor needed to do was get ahold of the royal records. Luckily, his company was recorded as killed to the last man in combat towards the last days of the war, a lie that the captain’s connections and a few greased palms made official while the remaining members of the company deserted and went their separate ways.

How he managed to be leading this raiding party he may never know. He didn't take much of an active part in the resistance, despite the begging of other members, generally just healing their wounded and providing shelter for any members on the run. But, recently there had been a major leak and most of the resistance had been killed, captured, or scattered to the winds.  Some members came to him out of desperation, and he held a meeting to determine what to do. It was decided that taking out the governor would cause enough chaos to allow the remaining resistance to recover and reform. It was a desperate move, but mages were a powerful force, and three of them plus some soldiers to back them up could be enough, if they were lucky, and it they weren’t…

He felt the familiar weight of his medicine bag handing from his side, filled with various herbs, basic surgical tools, whiskey, and the additional weight of a magic bomb. If all went well, they wouldn’t need to use it, but if they were desperate enough, the blast would demolish the palace and everything in it.

The group was waiting in an alley, one house and a large open area away from the palace’s outer walls. Marn took a look around outside the alley before turning to address his comrades. “Alright lads, you all know the plan. We make this quick and take out the governor before the guard has time to form a proper defense and we can get out of here alive. Remember, no civilian casualties, and avoid killing soldiers where you can, but don’t hesitate if it’s necessary. We’re here for the big man, nothing more, nothing less.

His squad nodded in confirmation and Marn kneeled just outside the alley, watching the guard movements for the right moment, before sprinting down the street. Bursts of air from his feet propelled each step farther. He put his right hand down on the ground as the other caught up. The earth under his hand moved and rose until a large hole emerged, widening until it was wide enough for a man to fit through. He finished right as the others got the walls and Marn wasted no time crawling into the hole, under the wall and out the other side. He emerged in the gardens, where he took cover and waited for the others. They popped out one by one, hiding by him, before they all crouched and moved towards the walls to the palace. There was no digging under the building walls, the thick floor cobblestone path around the palace prevent that.

Marn turned to the other mage in the group “Ivy, you ready?” The small woman gave a sly grin and a nod, before turning away from the group. Marn in the meantime faced the wall and pulled his right arm back, channeling a great deal of earth magic through the stone in his palm and into his hand.

“On three. One… Two… Three!” He half yelled before slamming his fist into the stone wall, a huge section cracking into smaller and smaller pieces, before a 10 foot circle of stone turned into gravel sized pieces. At the same time, Ivy raised both her hands to the sky and the garden erupted in growth, turning the peaceful garden into a rainforest of flowers, trees, and vines. Any guards trying to get through would find the plants actively stopping them from passing, slowing if not completely capturing them.

“Let’s move!” Marn yelled before entering the building and turning left as he followed the mental copy of the palaces blueprints. He dropped his right hand into his bag of stone and replaced the earth stone with a purple stone with a white line zigzagging across it. He led the group around a corner right before the king’s chambers, where they met a group of 6 guards across the hallways coming their direction. The guards seemed just as surprised as he was, but quickly recovered and made ready to charge the group, the spears in their hands glinting in the torchlight of the hallway.

As soon as he saw them charge, Marn raised his right hand and pointed at the lead soldier. Lighting arced from his finger to the guard, and then bounced between each other guard in the group until they all jerked violently and randomly and fell to the ground. Marn was hoping they could have done this without killing the guards, who were, at least mostly, innocent of any crimes against mages, but he knew the cost coming here, and they knew the cost signing up.

The group continued on down one more hallways until they got to the kings’ chambers. Kicking in the doors the group walked in, and immediately regretted it. The king stood at the end of the room, flanked by two men making circular motions with their hands. He couldn’t see their gloves very well, but he recognized the movements and the slight shimmer as a shield spell around the king. On either side of the room, a dozen crossbowmen stood, aiming at the group. One of the soldiers reacted quicker than the rest of the group and drew his bow, firing at the king. The arrow seemed to hit an invisible wall and bounced off. Immediately afterwards, one of the crossbowman fired, hitting the soldier in the head, the man crumpling to the ground. Marn reacted, but he already knew there was nothing he could do, the man was already dead.

“I was wondering when your rabble would make your move.”  The governor began, with every sign that he intended to continue on a speech that was tired and overused across the multiverse. . Marn his options and didn’t’ like them. Surrender meant death, running meant they were cut down before they left the room, and there was no way he could break the shields the mages were producing on his own, or even with the help of Ivy. He still had the bomb, but he wouldn’t have enough time to set it up before the crossbowmen got several good shots on him.

He glanced to his side at Ivy, who gave him one of her trademark smirks and tilted her palms towards him, revealing two smooth stones that looked like liquid silver, small perfect mirrors. Apparently she switched stones since they entered the building as well. He gave her a small smile and nodded, years of working with Ivy making what she had in mind fairly obvious to him. He mouthed ‘on three’ to her and began a mental countdown, tapping his foot with each beat. The governor was still going on about something, but Marn was neither listening nor caring.
At the count of three Marn ducked and grabbed his medical bag, digging in it for the magic bomb. At the same time, Ivy stood behind him and raised both her hands, large mirrored shields appearing on either side of the rebel group. The guards immediately responded by firing at them, the crossbow bolts entering the shields and coming back out a moment later, flying randomly back at the crossbowmen. At least a few hit, as Marn heard at least a few groans and yells while he worked on activating the bomb. He also heard a scream from behind him, presumably one of the soldiers wasn’t fully covered by the shield. Marn wanted to help the lad, but Ivy couldn’t keep the shield up forever, and the bomb took precedence at the moment.

Marn was so focused on arming the bomb as quickly as possible, he almost missed the sound of a body falling to the ground a few feet behind him. He turned around just in time to see the remaining soldier, Xanas, swinging a club at his head.

Marn woke up on the floor, presumably only a moment later, as the guards were still reloading their crossbows. Ivy was lying next to him, unconscious, or so he hoped. Further behind him the second soldier lay, a knife lodged in the back of his neck. He looked ahead of him and saw Xanas kneeling before the governor, the bomb at his side. Marn felt anger, at Xanas for his betrayal, at himself for not seeing it coming, and at the governor for all the thing he had done. He raised his right hand, which was surprisingly difficult, and a large bolt of lightning rose from his hand towards the bomb. He had no idea if this would work, but he had to at least try. There was a sudden surprised look form the governor, a high pitched wine from the bomb, and a bright light…

The Story Master did not flinch or lose poise as his interrogator bore down on him. The complexion of her skin seemed to match her expression, cold and enduring. After he gave his answers she was quick to speak again; she seemed to enjoy the sound of her own voice. As she spoke she strolled back and forth, towards and away from the table he was chained to. She stopped, turned her back to him, and said,

"You appeared as quickly as the dragon disappeared..."

In all his experience as a captive and prisoner throughout the years he noted that this facility was certainly the cleanest he had been interrogated in. However the reception left him in want. While he did count it an accomplishment to be questioned by a woman for the first time, he did not think her very professional. Her Majesty Queen Victoria’s elite were far more polite, even if equally cruel, about it. But every interrogation was the essentially the same and he began to grow weary of this one. Now that he was convinced the girl was safe he was relaxed.
Suddenly, (though expectedly) she slammed her hands into the glass table, but to his surprise the table crumpled under her might. The void of her eyes bore into his soul and he began to fear her. His face was expecting until the destruction inflicted on the table gave way to a surprised and slightly concerned look. She finished the sentences hollering,

"...And you expect me to believe that one is not connected to the other?"

Thank fully she broke the gaze after a small electric noise sounded. She stepped away from the table and he stole himself from her influence.

She put a hand to her ear and her demeanor changed, she seemed irritated. She moved again and without warning the wall behind her opened. She left through the new exit and another entered after her. The new presence in the room was certainly a man he could tell from his appearance. His face was uncovered. The wall behind the new comer returned to its former shape. The man before him appeared to be of import from his decorated uniform. In a deep and commanding voice he asked The Story Master,

"You spent a series of years in The Highs, did you not?"

He nodded. “Yes sir, I did,” he answered in a voice that betrayed his gladness to be getting somewhere.

The room went quiet for a second, the 3 (4?) ocuppants turned and faced Fitz. The waitress was the first to break the silence when she screamed "Ay mistah! Halp aught a laday, ay? This crazay bitch ahttaked me fo' no gawddawmn reas'an. Ay was just mai'den mah own business and she cawms and--!" but she was interupted by the... teeth people? Fitz still had no idea what that thing was...

Suddenly, the woman in the middle of this mess leapt out and landed on the wall above the ceiling. She looked to be pulling on something, but what it was, he couldn't tell. How is she...- Fitz was interupted in thought by Halcyon She has a bunch of invisible arms. I don't know how else to describe them. Tentacles maybe? Halcyon thought to him. Ohhh... we could do some fun stuff with- Shut up... Fitz thought back. How come you can see them though? He asked. We're gods. We can do a lot of things, Halcyon replied. And I, being the stronger half, can do somethings YOU can't... "Whatever..." Fitz muttered. Halcyon could get annoying, but he was right You might be stronger, but at least I can touch things. Fitz chuckled at his own retort, but was interrupted by the woman who shouted from her spot on the ceiling "If you're any good with those blades, shred the bastards and the bitch while you're at it!"

Those were the exact words Fitz and Halcyon were hoping to hear.

Fitz felt a rush of testosterone. He hadn't had the chance to fight something this big since he fought with Bilix Wrath, a giant dragon, on his first adventure in Invot. And that was 7 years ago. His pupils constricted and his muscles tensed, as he tensed his grip on his swords and shadow aura flared around him. The floorboards shattered underneath his forced, as he pushed of, bearing his swords and dashed towards the tooth guy. In a flash of blades, 8 of the teeth were on the floor, as well as the tooth man, in a pool of his own blood, not dead, but definitely maimed. Fitz dissipated one of his swords and turned to the second tooth man. Raising his left hand, he fired a devastating blast of shadow aura towards the abdomen of the second tooth monster. The blast rocketed towards the monster.

Trying to calm Tara was rather difficult. She could not hear anything except her own scream. When the robots grabbed her arms, she couldn't help but panic. She saw flashes of her past and struggled more.

By the time the robots sat her up and the doctor told her that she was safe, Tara stopped screaming. She was still breathing heavily.

She no longer felt an imminent danger, but she could not calm herself.
It was partly because of the strange surroundings around her. The more she recognized about her surroundings, the more uncomfortable she became.

So many questions rushed through her mind. She paid minimal attention to what the doctor was doing, and tried to get a grasp of what was happening.
Then the doctor interrupted Tara by asking her, "what's your name, sweetie?"

She took a deep breath.
Then she answered, "I'm Janie. Janie Taylor."

~In the Beginning~

Old Boar's Inn; Second Floor
[Missle/Pullo/Fitz]

Death would be scowling once more - the amount of times Missle had evaded his grasp would be more than he could count, but it did not matter now - a grand fight was about to begin.

The vectors had, indeed, done massive damage. A mixture of screams between man, woman, and beast shredded through the air as the invisible limbs of the diclonius had done their damage - while the beasts' jaw had not snapped, thirteen teeth had been vicious ripped from their natural placement, the sword-like bones scattering as she lept from the suddenly appearing monster.

Missle's encouragement of Fitz had only damaged the monster further. The room's floor literally shook as Fitz took on his shadow-wrapped form. From an onlooker, his transformation would definitely appear to be anything human - the amount of mass and muscle that suddenly appeared on his form flexed as he charged, dealing even further damage the monster. Eight more teeth were stripped of one side of its forming mouth and as if to add insult to injury, Fitz's blades sliced cleaning through the woman half of the morphing jaw, cut from hip to hip in a well executed slash. As the first half fell, the other writhed in pain, more unearthly screams raking the air at an ear shattering pitch.

Naturally, the beast would seem finished and the day saved, but this is not some fairy tale...

As the finishing blow from Fitz shot forward in a blast of shadow, heading directly towards the remaining "human's" torso, something... disturbing occurred. With a frightening velocity, a series of "tongues" shot forth from the pit of teeth, now fully formed where Missle had been standing not moments before. Each one would be no thicker than an average male's thumb, but they moved with an alarming speed - three would wrap around one of Missle's ankles, sticking into her flesh like a piece of live barb wire as they literally ripped her from position over the window. Meanwhile, the now almost fully transformed half jaw would morph around Fitz's projectile, creating a hole through the room's wall as three other tongues simultaneously grabbed Fitz's ankles and caused the demigod to go head over heels.

All the while, the completely dismembered jaw was already sliding itself back together, reforming its fearsome jaws and slowly growing to the height of its true form...
++++

The Lows; Alleyway
[Chad M.F.]

Not all gone to plan - for either party. The rat-man (who had been grabbing Chad's coat) was flung backwards against opposite alley wall, his furry form quickly swallowed by a half filled dumpster with a tremendous bang. All members of the situation held still for a moment, Chad's question hanging in the air:

"What the hell are you?"

The two other would-be-looters gaped at Chad, as if they couldn't believe what he had done, or maybe the fact that a corpse just came to life and wasn't zombified. However, someone answered Chad's question, causing all eyes to fall on the voice's source. Half echoing in the metallic container, the ratman emerged from the dumpster, practically ripping off the thin metal lid that had slammed behind the rodent as he had been thrown into the the container.

"I'm the rat that's gonna fucking rip your head from your spine!"

Suddenly, the girl (if you could call the female-with-rotting-flesh that) screamed something far from english as the bird-man lunged forward, hand-talons attempted to rake across Chad's cheek and/or eyes. If he managed to dodge that, however, he would quickly find himself in immediate danger of being clubbed by a copper (or rusty, it was hard to tell) pipe that was swung in baseball fashion by the zombie-girl. If Chad continued to display a grand skill of combat, he would feel the heat of fire and notice that the Raven's hand talon's were now engulfed in flame. And after all this, no matter what Chad did or how well he performed, he would unfortunately fall victim to the tackling form of the rat man and find himself lying skyward and looking at the huge figure of the rat humanoid.

The stench of his fur and cloak would practically unbearable as the rat man cackled with glee as he firmly pinned down the Master Funk's arms and legs, gloating as he did, "Now your head will be mine!" Jaws opened fiercely, sharp rodent teeth exposed themselves to the shadows of the alley, leaving Chad in a do-or-die situation...

However, if Chad were to fall victim of either of the bird man or zombie girl, he would find himself pounced on by the other, forced to go face first in the filthy muck of the alley floor (burned or not, it would depend how well Chad could hold his own against three opponents). The rat-man would then charge forward and slam his rodent foot on top of Chad's back with breath taking force, hissing his victory in Chad's ear as he did. "Now you'll pay, filth!" A sharp blow to the head and then - darkness...


++++

Tutmose; ???
[TSM]

“Yes sir, I did."

The officer before The Story Master would grunt in response, but a ghost of a smile tugged at the right side of his mouth as he produced a cigar box, removed one, and offered one to his prisoner. If one was taken or not, a match struck from no where and with two puffs, light the cigar (though he would light The Story Master's first if he had accepted the gesture). For several minutes, there would be complete silence, aside from the puffing noises from the officer's cigar. A steady gaze would be placed on the prisoner, as if the officer was

Finally, after he had smoked about half of the dark brown stick, he would reach to his side, still puffing, to remove a vanilla envelope, carefully looking from its contents back to his charge, flipping through papers, and muttered, "Ah, yes." as he removed a slip of paper.

"It says here that you were care for under the house of Clavant?" Dark eyes looked up under bushy eyebrows as he waited for a response. "More directly, having some more definite connection with an Antony Savant?" If The Story Master gave any form of a "yes," the officer would immediately cut him off. "Let me be clear, sir. As I am sure you are aware, you are classified as a member of the Highs' Society. This, of course, is the only reason I made an appearance in representation of the Highs' Security Sector - otherwise, you would be under the scrutiny of Officer Mryandion."

The folder would snap shut quietly, but with a force that could not be measured by sound, but a demand of attention and respect. "The mentioned person, Antony Savant, is currently under investigation. Assuming that your connections with him are a serious as this," the file was raised in a gesture of implication, "describes, I can only assume that you know of his business and have had some sort of knowledge of possible whereabouts." A stern glance was cast in Tyros's direction, a bushy eyebrow raised as another question was asked, "I'm sure you're aware of your rights, and what consequences were to befall if you withheld any information from The Councils' Guard?"

Armored gloved hands were placed where glass had been shattered only minutes before, though they were folded and interlaced in a calm manner. "If you are aware of any hidden caches, safe rooms, common contacts, or any of the sort, now would be a time to reveal them."

The stern gaze remained...

====

Tutmose; ???
[Tara]

"I'm Janie, Janie Taylor."

The doctor would nod as she constantly looked from the pad in front of her and Tara, her soft smile ever present as she multitasked between her work and her patient. A few more taps on the computerized slab before she let it sink to her side, Sophie's attention fully on Tara now, "Well, it's nice to Janie."

With a wave of her hand, the robotic nurses slowly  began to fade into the other background, the other exiting from a door that had suddenly appeared, the vertical shutter that quickly rose and then closed with breath taking speed. The doctor quickly spoke as it left, "Don't worry about the protection measures, dear. Don't worry, there are windows and doors here, but we want to make sure you aren't infected with anyway while trying to keep you from getting ill from anything we might have here."

"This is an isolated room, but we'll move you to a more comfortable room once we get your blood work back. In the mean time, would you mind telling me about yourself? I know it's intrusive, but..." The pad slowly rose to chest level again, a pen-like stick her hand, obviously ready for writing. "...It would be very helpful to know what you could have been exposed to and how we could help you, medically or psychologically."

The gentle smile still remained, her eyes furrowed in a genuine concern as she awaited Tara's answer - or she would have. Suddenly, red light shattered the peaceful white being of the room as an eerie alarm began to echo from somewhere outside. The doctor made a bee line to the door, calling over her shoulder with a somewhat shaky voice as she disappeared to the world outside, "Janie, stay here. I'll be right back." The shutter would open and shut in the blink of an eye, before Tara could call out.

Meanwhile, the nurse bot that had drifting in the background called out in a dead, robotic voice, "Active defensive protocol - protect patient at all costs." It would then go exactly where the doctor had exited, its "back" to the door as a red laser scanned the room. "Patient - alive, Room - secure."

Tara would then be left to her own thoughts and to gaze around the room. In all honesty, it was plain, with very little difference than that of a normal doctor's office - a clean sink, white washed walls and cabinets, their purpose all unknown to her. However, if she managed to look around her bed, she would see a few buttons on what seemed to be a support for patients and a touchpad with three pressable buttons: Nurse, Help, or On...

====

The Crossroads; ???
[Marn]

The light would be beyond blinding - if one were to try to define it, it could only be done be creating an entirely new shade of white. Ears would ring, flashes of black would burst before Marn's eyes - disorientation would be a major understatement. However, before all this lack of senses, the last thing he would hear was a crack of sound, as if the sky itself had been ripped open by some unearthly sword.

However, all this meant one thing: he was (miraculously) alive.

But if he was alive, it could only mean one things: the bomb had not exploded, meaning his mission had failed. While he would not be able to hear or see anything, the obvious rustle of bodies was still around him - it would be impossible not to noticed the flurry of cloth and booted feet stomping around him.

Something was strange though - as his hearing recovered (as it would before his eye sight), it was not the sounds of kings chambers. The sound was of mass panic, women screaming, men yelling:

"What is that?"
"What sorcery?!"
"Who could have possibly teleported past the wards?!"
"Sound the alarm!"
"Invader!"
"Grab him!"
"Protect her highness!"

A drone of an alarm suddenly sounded, drowning out any basic conversation as people fled or rushed about him in general chaos. As his eyesight recovered, a quick glance would reveal that he was in a grand throne room of sorts. However, there would not be just one throne, but a series of five thrones were place in a half circle. A long desk in a similar shape was in front of the throne's platform. Any other detail would be missed, however, as he could see a group of soldiers, five or seven in all, rushing towards his half lying, half kneeled body, all intent on apprehending him...or worse.

Much to Chad's surprise, he hears an echoed scream behind him, "I'm the rat that's gonna fucking rip your head from your spine!" Chad turns his head to see the monstrous rat rip through the thin metal dumpster in rage. He hears another battle cry behind him, but it wasn't English and it sounded feminine. It was the zombie girl and the bird-man lunging forward to attack.

Chad had little time to react! He quickly countered the raven's talons with an uppercut to the ribs. The bird-man coughed violently, gasping for air as he kneels to the ground. Immediately after, the zombie girl jumps from behind the kneeling raven mutant with a violent battle cry as she swings a rusty pipe towards Chad's head. Chad ducked as the pipe swiftly brushes against his hair but the zombie attacks again. Chad dodges her barrage of swings before finally finding an opening and counters with a left hook to the jaw sending her crashing into the brick wall. With out a moment of hesitation, the persistent raven attacks once again with his burning talons. Using the momentum from his left hook punch, Chad spins into a back heel kick before the raven's talons could reach him, taking advantage of the bird-man's already injured rib and lands a powerful blow on the same spot. The bird-man coughs saliva and gags for air as he staggers and falls over the zombie girl.

Chad had made a fatal mistake, but when it happened it was too late for him to do anything about it. In the heat of combat Chad had forgotten about the rat-man, but was shockingly reminded of him as he was tackled and pinned to the ground. Mud splashed on Chad's face as he was violently thrown to the ground. "Now your head will be mine!", the rat snarled as he exposed his teeth.

"Damn! How am I gonna get out of this one!?" Chad thought to himself as the rat prepared to do his worse. "C'mon Chad! Think fast!" Chad's thought rushed through his head as he tries to break free from the rat's grip. Chad's eyes widened as he came up with an idea to save himself, but it was a gamble, and he was running out of time.

"That's it!" Chad thought to himself in excitement as he noticed his teleportation device is in working condition and didn't take any serious damage from the crash landing. "Luckily I still have my teleportation device on me and its still working! I can warp both of us 50 meters into the air which should scare this ugly fat ass off me, and I can let gravity do the rest of the work and send this sucker crashing into the ground. I highly doubt this stinking lard could survive a 50 meter drop. If I'm lucky I could send him falling head first, which would definitely kill him! I will need my hover boots to break my fall though, but I don't know if it got damaged when I crash landed here, I didn't have time to test them. If my hover boots don't work, my last option would be to land on top of his dead body, but even a smelly hairball like him wouldn't make much of a soft landing and I would get screwed over badly."

Fitz. Halcyon thought, You know that isn’t going to kill it right? As the shadow aura rocketed towards the tooth monster. Fitz smirked. Of course Halcyon. We just started fighting. Why would I want to kill it already? Halcyon cackled devilishly. You’re starting to act like me. Maybe theres a future for us after all.

Suddenly, with alarming speed, thin, barbed tentacles shotout from the center of the room and violently grabbed the woman from her position on the wall. Fitz then looked down and saw his own ankles were wrapped by these tentacles. ‘Well.” Fitz sighed, “Thats unfortunate.” and he was jerked upside down.

From his new position, he looked down and saw the body he had just decapitated was slowly reforming. Great. Fitz thought with anger, Now I have to kill that again. But in the middle of this thought he looked again and saw, rising from the floor a giant demon worm, as it morphed around his shadow aura. Thankfully, it wasn’t an Alaskan Bull Worm, because those things are know to kill in the most terrifying ways possible. No, this was just your average giant demon worm.

Seriously? Halcyon asked, You didn’t see that coming? Maybe your not acting like me at all. Fitz rolled his eyes. As annoying as Halcyon was, that was all he was at the moment. An all powerful annoyance. Fitz looked over towards the woman and chuckled as he shouted “This happen often to you too?” in quite a joking manner, not seriously expecting an answer, as he refocused on the predicament at hand.

Lets see. Whats the information I have on this situation;
This tooth monster is big.
I am upside down
It can morph around things
It regenerates, so I’ll need to completely destroy it.

Yeah. Thought Fitz. Thats about it. Halcyon, you got anything else on this predicament? Halcyon scractched his immaterial head. Well, he sighed, other than the fact you’re missing your anniversary right now, I’d say thats about it.
…
…
…
“WHAT??????” Fitz screamed. Fear filled his eyes. Demon worm tooth monsters, He could deal with. Ganti pissed off? That was an entirely new problem. And a much more serious one at that. “Why didn’t you remind me???” Fitz asked with trembeling voice and eyes welling with tears of terror. You didn’t ask me! Plus you yelled at me… so now we’re even! Halcyon retorted, crossing his metaphorical arms “You’re such a baby!” Fitz yelled, grabbing his head. If he didn’t get out of this quick, he would be dead quicker than you could say giant demon worm. Halcyon, Fitz thought, Do something amazing! on my cue. Halcyon sighed, FIIIINNEE, as long as I get to be with you when you do Ganti. Fitz cringed at the thought. Ugh… okay! he thought back, disgustedly. He turned to the other tentacle suspended person in the room “Sorry lady! But I’ve got a bigger problem!” Fitz shouted to the stranger (Missile) “I’m missing...” Fitz grunted as he summoned his Shaed Swords “... MY ANNIVERSARY!!” He bellowed, as he spun, slicing the tentacles from his ankles


Fitz fell to the floor, landing with a thud. He rolled onto his feet, and sprinted towards the door, shouting “I’ll be back in 10 minutes, tops! I just gotta do this real quick!”

While Fitz was sprinting out he thought-spoke to Halcyon, NOW! and Halcyon emerged, revealing himself for the first time to the room, putting on a most grand display of his power, full with hair flaring and shadow aura immersing the room in, not full, but vibrating darkness, akin to how heat rises from the concrete on a hot summer day, yet adding a dark tint to everything distorting the vision of the people/ things in the room. He floated in front of the giant demon worm, attempting to instigate the attention it. Halcyon hovered inches from the eyes of the giant demon worm and spat at it, “Hey little buddy, Ready to play?”

Marn lay where he was for a moment, the light and sound making thinking a task too great for his mind to handle, overwhelmed by his senses and the pain from the blow to his head. Slowly his ears stopped ringing and he could think somewhat again. He immediately thought of Ivy and felt a pang of guilt. She knew the risks with the mission they took, as did they all, but that didn’t make the idea that he was the one to kill her sit any better with him.

It then dawned on him that he was alive, which raised all sorts of questions, since he was pretty sure there was an explosion, but his line of thought slowly died out as the adrenaline started to wear off and he began to feel the full effect of the knot forming on the back of his head. In the back of his head, he recognized the symptoms pointing to a concussion, but the rest of his brain was kind of fuzzy at the moment and wasn’t listening.

He slowly got to a kneeling position, hearing shuffling and voices around him. What they were saying didn’t make any sense, but Marn wasn’t paying attention to it anyway. He looked up and saw about half a dozen guards running at him. Combat training kicked in and he quickly stood up, raising his right hand out to them. He felt lightheaded and the world went black for a split second, but he recovered quickly. He tried to focus on channeling, making a lightning bolt to jump from guard to guard, but instead a spray small bolts, very painful but non-lethal, arced out from the stone and his fingertips.  

Marn was concerned about the result, but he didn’t have the time to think on it. He immediately turn around and ran towards the nearest door, ignoring the pounding in his head from the sudden rush of blood.