Guild Wars III Roleplay (Rated T)

[Fraze]

((To start, a summary of the important plot points of past RPs.
GWI: Really doesn't matter much, not a whole lot carried over from there.

SPOILER: Click to show

Hundreds of years ago, the guilds went to war, each guild sending great armies to do battle with one another. The demon alchemist Leraye trapped all of these people in a magical gem, and used theirs souls as a power source for the gem. Now in modern times, it has nearly lost its power. It gets found, and quickly becomes the focal point of a new war between the guilds. Eventually, the gem is broken and the armies are freed. There's a big battle. Meanwhile, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse--Death, War, Famine, and TMC (see Hunty's notes on the NPC persona thread for all of these)--watch the proceedings. TMC starts meddling, and gets turned into a new gem by Leraye, who manages to escape. TMC's horsebike goes to Spacefleet to be studied by the labs. There were numerous musical and dance numbers throughout.

SPOILER: Click to show

A Pirate/Spacefleet RP that takes place several months after GWII. Cyborg wants to rejoin the Pirates, but in order to do so, he must steal Spacefleet's information on Leraye. Their journey to the 'Fleet is funded by Merpo (see Fraze's notes on the NPC persona thread), a disgruntled ex-Spacefleet scientist, but in return they must steal some of Merpo's notes from the 'Fleet library. Meanwhile, a demon army--seeking to rescue their great leader Leraye--attacks the 'Fleet. A lot of fighting happens, and eventually Leraye turns the demon army into ANOTHER gem and subsequently goes poof out of there. Cy fails to get the Leraye info. Hunty/Fraze becomes an official 'ship. Merpo gets his notes back, and uses them to begin research inside the Underdeep.

))




Fraze decided he really didn't like bureaucracy.
It had been nearly a year since the second Guild War, when Commander Strife had mysteriously vanished without a trace. After some milling around, Keng had eventually become Spacefleet's leader. It had been another nine months since the demon attack on Spacefleet. It had been just around seven months since Keng had disappeared to who knows when, and--Fraze still wasn't quite sure he could believe this part--managed to mail a letter forward in time to make him the de facto leader of Spacefleet.
His old superiors, the ones who had done their best to hide him away after that mishap--who were so glad to send him to Spacefleet so as to keep him in quiet obscurity--now saw that he was the leader of the interstellar equivalent of a small first-world country. They weren't pleased, but there was nothing they could do about it. In terms of galactic politics, he now technically outranked them.
In the beginning, he allowed himself a few laughs about this. But he didn't let it go to his head.
But now, he sometimes felt himself yearning for a deep-space special ops mission, something that would give him a little peace and quiet while he sped through space, invisible to everyone but seeing everything, to some destination and some secret objective.

Schedule for today:

• 7:30 AM--Get up, get dressed, get presentable.
  
• 8:0005--Get to the office. At the very least, it was a great location. Read and sign papers, coordinate things. Eat.
  
• 10:45 AM--Visit training grounds and see the new recruits. Give a few words.
  
• 11:30 AM--Go over to the labs, listen to their current research and progress.
  
• 1:00 PM--Meet with the dignitaries from wherewasitagain, really should remember that planet's name, and give them a tour.
  
• 3:00 PM--Take the dignitaries down planetside, give them a flyby tour of the planet.
  
• 6:00 PM--land at the new spaceport. It was in a field outside of Tabloid Town. It was nearly completed, and already accepting a limited number of flights for special purposes.
  
• 6:30 PM--After showing around the Spaceport, pay respects to the dignitaries and have personnel bring them back planetside.
  
• 6:40 PM--Duck into a spaceport restroom and change out of those stuffy official clothes and into something more comfortable. Put suit into the briefcase that's been carried around all this time. Put small plasma pistol in holster under shirt and activate bee-sized protection drone. Can't be too safe around here.
  
• 6:43 PM--Leave spaceport and walk to Tabloid Town harbor.
  
• 7:12: Arrive at harbor, pier 17. Wait.
  
  Getting up wasn't fun. It never was. But still, it was worth doing today, for something about twelve hours away. Just twelve hours. Just twelve hours.
  Bill for new pillows for crew quarters' wing 3A--reject, apparently they're only three years old. Bill requesting additional funds for ongoing construction of somethingsomethingomething--sign. Bill for...
  The new trainees seemed to be doing well. The labs were doing fine. The area around the one that used to hold the bike was still acting a bit funny, you could feel yourself just barely shifting into slow-motion when you walked in. And no two watches ever read the same time. The dignitaries were actually quite pleasant. For once, a group of visiting diplomats, ambassadors, and high-ranking business officials actually seemed interested in what most thought was a backwater little planet. It seemed they were interested in seeing Tabloid Town. It was rather hard to persuade them that no, actually, there really wasn't all that much to see, and wouldn't you much rather know what the labs are working on, I could arrange a tour for you, there's this rather interesting lab where something odd happened with a vehicle a while back, and...
  Finally, they were gone. There were, in fact, two truths Fraze didn't particularly want to tell. The first was that Tabloid Town might in fact reinforce many of the preconceptions people seemed to have about the NTWF. The second was that a tour would mean delaying his next appointment.
  Out of a Commander's uniform and into loose pants, t-shirt, comfortable walking shoes, and the briefcase magically became a backpack. Relations with Mage Manor had been getting rather good, and several dozen of these had been sent to the 'Fleet as a gift. It could also be a duffel bag, purse, suitcase, shopping bag, bandolier, and so on. Wonderfully useful little thing.
  The pier faced west, so Fraze sat and watched the sunset. Hopefully she would come in time to watch it with him.
  
  
  --------
  
  
  Merpo watched and recorded measurements.
  He was in a tunnel of the Underdeep close to his mansion. Close enough to run a power cord to power his protective suit, so that he didn't have to rely on its external batteries. Over the past six months, he had successfully mapped nearly two hundred fifty miles of corridors, and set up monitoring equipment at intervals all throughout. All of the equipment sent information wirelessly to this terminal.
  He saw forms occasionally. Shapes. Shadows. It seemed as though they wanted to coalesce into things, real, discrete bodies and entities, but they couldn't, because they were not able to get close enough to him to get into his mind. The suit he had constructed for himself--which looked like one of the suits used to deal with hazardous chemical spills, but with a hole for the face--made sure of that. Just as someone in a Faraday Cage can see the electricity arcing all around, but will not be harmed by it, Merpo could see the anger and malice and magic all around him, but knew that he was safe as long as the suit's power held out. And he was very careful about that. If there was one thing he had learned in his twenty years of practical exile, it was patience. When he was mapping the Underdeep's corridors, he would turn back once the first of the three battery packs he carried with him had drained. When he attached to the power generated by the wind turbines above his house, he would only stay until the generator's power reserves were at half of maximum. He was very, very careful. He was proud, in the way that all great scientists are proud, but he knew his limitations. He knew that if he ran out of power in the Underdeep, even so close to the safety of his house, he might not make it back.
  
  But now--now, he was almost ready. He had completed the first rough draft of a simple power collector. It would feed off of the Underdeep's immense magical fields, turning them into usable energy. This one, if it worked, would produce as much power as the wind turbines he already had. But there was enough energy being created here to power his entire home planet.
  He flipped the switch.
  
  It ground, it grated.
  
  Merpo didn't realize he had stopped breathing. If this worked, it would be the most important advancement he had made in the past two decades.
  
  
  
  
  It hummed to life.

[Deleted]

((Do PM me if you think you can help me with my writing layout and dialogue etc. xD))

Spacefleet

Leoness woke up with a splitting headache in a tight space, that after some light examination seemed to be some kind of janitor's closet.

A little lightheaded she stumped out into the hallway on the main ship of Spacefleet. People who were normally doing their routined jobs stopped and looked at her like she had just appeared from thin air.

Some of the faces she recognized... faintly, as if from a dream you try to hold on to before it slips away. Others were totally strangers to her.

"So uhm, that was quite a party we had last night, huh?"
She grinned sheepishly, knowing full well that there had been no party and that was not the reason why she had woken up in the closet.

An officer came up to her. He seemed familiar.
"Leoness?"

"Yes... yes I believe that is me."
She looked down upon herself; still wearing the medical officer uniform with the Spacefleet emblem on the chest.

"You've been gone for a year. We..."
He looked away as if to try and find the best wording,
"thought you were dead, since Commander Strife never returned."

Strife...
Her headache became more agressive.

"I'm back now... from whereever I've been."
She tried to shrug off the past because just trying to think about it made her head feel like it was gonna split in half.

"So, did anyone fill in for me... or is the spot for Chief Medic still available?"
She sent the officer a reassuring grin and made a mental note to try and get to the surface as soon as possible.
The mages... maybe they knew.

[Ninja Superior]

Ninjas

Through the mild breeze that crossed his open temple, the Ninja Superior listened. It was a routine observed and highly respected by everyone in the dojo for many decades. Passed on from generation to generation through his bloodline, he would use this innate ability to sense whatever was going on, or going to happen. No one, not even the highest of ninjas, would realize what the ability really was. It was enough for them to know that it helped them for many years.

However, the Ninja Superior had been stricken with disease recently. Every now and then, he would fall under a cycle of heavy breathing and coughing, possibly due to his old age. While it had not severely rendered him too ill, it had definitely slowed him down.

The Ninja Superior coughed once more, the result seen on the mixture of spit he made on the ground.

Blood.

Only a trace of it, sure. But that single drip of blood made him contemplate on what was going to happen to him.

"Someday... I will have to pass away."

But he will have to continue his obligations while he is standing, he kept that thought in mind.

As if ignorant of the sign of sickness, the Ninja Superior returned to his ordeal. He remained motionless, meditating on the hidden messages of nature. Suddenly, the wind picked up speed for a second, then died down quickly.

A premonition.

One that made him stand up trembling.

"... I must assemble the ninjas."

[Nova]

Mage Manor

Flying through the night winter sky, Nova looked over Tabloid Town. It was so peaceful this late at night. Only a few lights shone from the houses; everything else was as dark as night. He had heard many stories from Tabloid Town that weren't peaceful at all, but he stayed out of the adventures. He didn't want to be killed in an all-out war betweent the guilds. But it had been over a year since the last one, so it didn't seem like another one would break out. But yet, NTWF is unpredictable, so one can never say.

Even though he's a member of the Mages Guild, he always seemed to manage to get away before even the slightest hint of a war came up. Something he liked. Whether it was fate or extraordinary luck, it didn't matter to him. But as he flew, something arose in his stomach. It wasn't a good feeling... at all. He shook it off as just nausea, but in his heart he knew it wasn't it. But whatever the case, it wouldn't mean much. Would it?

He noticed a small light in front of him. He flew closer to find out what it was, only it moved back.. at the same speed of himself. Then, the small light zipped towards himself, and Nova couldn't see it anymore. Instead, he felt a tingling sensation from inside. His eyesight became blurry and the brightness changed from bright to dark very suddenly. He felt air rushing up against him; he was falling. He saw a bright flash, and became unconcious.

--

Woken up, his eyes were very itchy. After rubbing them for a good minute, Nova looked around. He was in a very large and empty room. There was a fireplace at the far end, a window to his far right and a door to his far left. He was in a large bed, completely tucked in as if his own mother put him to bed last night. He noticed the rug and ceiling patterns; they were familiar. He tried to think, but his mind couldn't remember where they were from or what happened.

Then.. he remembered. Mage Manor. He was in his own room at the Manor. But... how? He hasn't been here in over a year! Something was going on, he didn't know what, but he had to know why he was 'called back' to his own guilds mansion.

He tried the door. It was locked. "Dang!" he said a loud. Then he remembered his weak teleport skill. He can't go long distances, but he should be able to teleport himself past the door and into the hallway. Thinking hard, his surroundings turned a solid white for half a millisecond, and he was in the hallway.

"Let's get going," he said to himself as he walked down the very long corridor.

[Goosh]

((The Underdeep))

The world was made of stories. This she knew.

It could only be called a nest, and it too was made of stories. Pages upon pages, yellow and tattered, making a mattress twice her size that crinkled when she shifted. Pages torn from good novels and bad novels, self-help books and instruction manuals, telephone directories and anthologies of poetry. Her fingers curled around them possessively.

If one were to sample a handful of the pages, one would see that all the proper names were crossed out. Each one was replaced, in pretty violet ink, by "Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam".

"The villagers knew that only person brave enough to stop the dragon was Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam--

Producer - Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam
Assistant Producer - Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam
Key Grip - Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam--

Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam
44 Loopy Lane
Tabloid Town--

And upon it all she slept. A lock of silky silver hair fluttered when she exhaled. Her pointed ears twitched at the occasional noise. In one hand she grasped a sword so carved with mystical runes it was almost transparent.

Scratched into the wall was a crude portrait. A woman with a stripey ponytail, hard smile and large crossbow. Kassandra had given her little x's for eyes. The pirate filth. The heartless intruder. The villain.

The world was made of stories, and stories were her element. She would find her nemesis, the one who had wronged her, and end her story. The thought made a perfect white smile flicker across her face. If anyone had been watching her--and the small camera halfway down the tunnel indicated that someone was--they would have thought she was dreaming about unicorns or bright forests.

Suddenly, there was a low, distant hum. A slanted, violet eye shot open. Kassandra Amethyst Moonbeam rose from her slumber, sword in hand, and followed the noise, ready for her story to begin.

[Deleted]

Location unknoooooown...

"Oh hell... another one."

A pair of grey eyes watched as a young human man, coughing up blood and choking, slowly stopped breathing. The cause of his death was obvious: a sword had gone through him. Most would assume that the being standing above him had been responsible. But if they looked closely, they would see that he had been holding the sword himself - as if he had tried to end his own life.

That was exactly what had happened.

That was what had happened to everyone in this clearing.

The being, a chimera in faded clothing which had once been bright and colourful, sighed in frustration. All these people had come here, seen the dozens of corpses, and assumed that she had been the one responsible. Then she showed them the truth about what would happen to this world, and they just couldn't take it.

In a way, she couldn't blame them. After all, the NTWF was going to be destroyed, and there was no way of stopping it. Even magic was useless in the face of this threat.

But were they really all this weak?

--------------

Ninja Dojo(?)

Mercifully, things were quieter than usual at the dojo. Not that it wasn't usually quiet - while they enjoyed conversation and occasionally getting drunk, ninjas generally weren't any louder than regular people, and in fact were likely one of the quietest of the guilds. It had been that way for years now - one wouldn't expect anything less from masters of stealth.

But, five months ago, that had changed.

It was all thanks to the arrival of one large, muscular reptilian warrior who might have been less out-of-place in the Knights or even the Mercenaries - but he stuck out like a sore thumb in this guild for one simple reason.

"I AM KOV'RAN MO-KRA, THE SWORD THAT CLEAVES E-VIL!"

If you guessed 'he was LOUD', you would be exactly right.

Kovaran Mokra, the Screaming (Komodo) Dragon and self-styled Sword That Cleaves (or Smites) Evil, also known as 'Shut Up PLEASE', was currently not anywhere near the actual dojo itself, to the relief of more traditional ninjas. Instead, he was having a bath in a body of water that had formed at the bottom of a waterfall, and singing while doing so. Did I mention that he was singing poorly and very LOUDLY - enough for people to hear him from a long way off? Because he was.

His clothes were on the bank, conveniently beneath a gigantic and absurdly heavy sword (so much so that, to his knowledge, Kovaran was the only person who could even lift it). So as far as he was concerned, his clothes were safe from theft. As was his sword, but that went without saying.

"K-Kovaran Mokra!"

The huge lizard looked up from scrubbing some particularly tough dirt off of his scales. Sure enough, another ninja was approaching the shoreline - not just any, though. He was a black panther (actually a melanistic jaguar) in black clothing.

"Greetings, Oncara!" Kovaran cheerfully called, waving in the feline's direction. "Come to bathe with me?"

"No, you idiot!" Oncara snarled, his fur standing on end. "What makes you think I would want to be that close to you?!"

Cue the awkward pause. Then the panther sighed.

"The Ninja Superior has requested the ninjas assemble," said he.

Kovaran dropped the rag he'd been holding. What?!

"I know," said Oncara. "Finish your bath then get to the dojo."

And with that, the panther took off, clearly eager to get as far away from the Screaming Dragon as possible.

[Jason]

* Mage Manor*

Jasor sat in the library of the manor, door lightly ajar. After his failed participation in the last Guild War he had messaged his siblings to find out what they had contributed. It was wit such misfortune that he found out that the eldest hadn't joined a guild yet and that his twin had been lazing around the Knight's castle with little are for the War. This hand been months ago, however. With a sigh he turned back to the device he found in his hand. It was a sleek device with a rounded top. A Spacefleet logo could be seen carved into it.

It had been this morning that he had woken up to find this contraption lying on his bed. After taking a quick shower, he proceeded to listen to the message he had been sent. Javeron, Jason and his' elder brother, had apparently joined up with Spacefleet a few months ago as a Chef. Or at least something that sounded like a Chef. Jasor had since resolved to returning the technology the next time he encountered a member of the technology-advanced guild. The message however is what had led him o the library.

Just as Jasor dipped a quill into some ink to respond to the message, he heard the unmistakable sound of a rattling door. Pushing himself from the table for which he sat, he glided toward the open door and into the hall. It was then that he saw Nova appear outside of one of the rooms. Before he could call out a greeting, Nova had began to walk rapidly away. With a frown, Jasor went back to the libray, remiding himself to ask Nova later on.

[Rikku]

Mage Manor

Soulful music hummed through the air.

Of course, when most people say ‘soulful’, they mean filled with rich emotion, that kind of thing. In this case it was more like the kind of soul that was currently in the process of being tortured by some ghastly method that involved chainsaws and something suspiciously squelchy.

The undead vulture bore it with good grace, mostly because he didn’t really have anything that could, in a pinch, be described as ears.

Fred stopped mangling the banjo and said, with an eager grin, “What do you think, The?”

“Well,” said The, quite slowly. This struck him as a good way to delay, so he said it again, dragging out the syllable as far as could possibly be managed by someone who lacked lips, a tongue, or, indeed, a vocal cord. “Wwwweeeeeeelllllll.”

Fred frowned in confusion. The watched with a kind of morbid fascination. The zombie’s face did strange things when he frowned, few of which had much to do with frowning and a lot of which had to do with various bits falling off. Their master’s last batch of preservative had got Fred looking almost human again, but it hadn’t lasted particularly long.

“Is there something wrong with it?”

The clacked his beak. “Not wrong,” he said slowly. “As such.”

Fred brightened. It was quite something to watch. “Good!”

“Not that either. Um.” He scratched the back of his neck with one mouldering wing. “Maybe try not to rhyme with ‘Oh, how beauteous thy shining eyes’ with ‘if I accidentally eat your brains I’ll be quite surprised, and I will bring your family flowers and Rikku will probably pay for the funeral and might even take the body off their hands with a minimum of inconvenience!’ next time.”

“Too forward, do you think?” said Fred anxiously.

“Yes,” said The, seizing upon this with great relief. “Too forward. Definitely.”

“Ah,” said Fred. “That was just the first verse, actually. Would you like—”

“I’ve got to go check on Rikku,” said The with somewhat insulting haste, and he flapped into improbable flight and out of the door of Rikku’s room, which she probably would have resented them hijacking if she’d been her usual perky self. She wasn’t.

Fred frowned after him, looking rather hurt. He sighed.

“Some people don’t appreciate art,” he said sadly, and, after reattaching a few errant digits, he went back to strumming sadly. The Manor, being a helpful near-sentient sort of building, automatically directed anyone who might have been walking in the corridors near there to somewhere far, far away.

The flapped through the corridors, shedding feathers. Rikku had originally named him ‘Britney’, for some reason.. He called himself The Decomposinator, The Supreme Avian, The Master of Moulderers, and a whole host of other things. Fred just called him The, and after a while Rikku did too. It was easier.

--------

The Manor was perfect for mages. It had a formidably vast library, well-stocked kitchens that always seemed to know precisely what you wanted, golem chefs for when you weren’t quite sure what you wanted, a stone guardian, magical protections … all in all, it was ideal for allowing mages to get on with their studies and research without having to worry about such mundane things as eating and sleeping.

Sometimes this wasn’t a good thing.

The room was cavernous. Foul-smelling tallow candles cast madly cavorting shadows across the crumbling walls. Supplies were scattered around the place – bones and further candles and bowls of incense, making the place look more like some dark lord’s tomb than a place of research. The air was cool and dank, and smelt of darkness and dreams.

Mages were generally advised to stay well clear from the basement. Rikku couldn’t imagine why.

She finished drawing the circle and stood up, dusting chalk from her hands. Her pale face was set in a frown. The book lying carelessly open on the ground nearby contained a complicated summoning ritual, the chant of which carried on over several pages. And that wasn’t even counting the phonetic guides, which took up the whole rest of the book. Personally, she didn’t see the point of this.

“Oi! You!” she shouted, and held a burning taper to the powder she’d trailed all around the circle. Immediately it lit up, and blazing green fire surrounded the circle, tingeing the chamber’s darkness with verdant light. Rikku skipped back a step and waited.

A flickering, insubstantial shape formed in the circle, that of a slender man with pale skin and black-and-gold hair. He looked around with obvious distaste.

“Haven’t done much for the décor, have you?” he said. “I would have expected you to put a cheerful vase of flowers in, at least. It seemed your style.”

Rikku growled. “You again. Can’t you stay away?”

“Ah, hello?” said the transparent man. “Ghost? I don’t exactly have much choice in who summons me, you know.”

“I wasn’t summoning you,” Rikku snarled. “Look for yourself, idiot.” She gestured at the runes drawn in chalk at various points along the circle.

“That’s no way to speak to your uncle,” he protested, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes.

“Damien. You tried to kill me.”

“I’m a necromancer, honey. It’s what we do.”

Rikku’s eyes narrowed, and her hand automatically went to her frying pan. “I don’t kill people.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t worry about it. You’ll get there.” Damien glanced around. “In fact, I’d say you’re halfway there already. What kind of skull is that?”

“Goat,” Rikku said, and she sighed and dragged a hand through her dark hair. “Look, could you just leave? I’m trying to reach … someone else.”

Now there was curiosity in his metallic eyes. “A specific ghost? Who? A powerful entity, or one with knowledge, or what?”

“No one in particular,” said Rikku hastily. It may have just been the candlelight that made her cheeks look red. “Just … anyone other than you. Get out of my summoning circle, already.”

He looked around critically. “This is meant to be a summoning circle? Looks like an oval to me.”

“I—”

“A wonky oval.”

“Shut up!” she yelled, and pulled out her humerus wand and pointed it at him. He went quiet, his eyes widening.

“Threatening me with part of my own skeleton, hey?” he said. Then he grinned. “You’re closer than I thought.”

Rikku had blue-grey eyes the approximate colour of the ocean. Now they were the colour of a cold ocean, when the air smells of salt and storm. She lifted her wand –

And the world shook, causing the walls to grind together, candles to topple, and Rikku to fall over. She flung out her hands automatically and landed awkwardly, grazing her palms. The fact that she was holding something in each hand didn’t help; the frying pan and humerus made her wrists do strange things at the impact, and it hurt.

Rikku cursed.

Then she got to her feet, slid cooking utensil and magical focus back into their places on her belt, and walked out of the room, not even pausing to pick up the things that had fallen over, which meant she had to pick her way over jumbled skeletons and spilt incense.

She needed to find out whether that tremor had affected the whole Manor or just this part of it, what damage it had done, whether any people were hurt and, more importantly, what had caused it. Was it magical in origin – the Manor shaking itself off like a horse shakes off fleas – or had it been a perfectly mundane earthquake? Had it affected all of the NTWF, or was it just some obscure thing that resulted from meddling around so close to the earth?

She had heard talk of something called the Underdeep, though no one was ever quite clear on what it was. Maybe it had caused this, whatever ‘this’ was.

Whatever had happened, she couldn’t afford to let it happen again, couldn’t afford to not know what had caused it. She was meddling with forces far too powerful to allow any room for the bliss that was ignorance.

Back in the near-basement room, the flickering ghost stood, frowning slightly. A vulture approached him, claws clicking on the ground. The white curve of its skull was just visible through its patchy skin, and it gleamed in the green light. The copper and who-knows-what-else trail was fading, and the flames were getting smaller.

“Would you say she’s getting worse?” said Damien conversationally.

The tilted his head in thought. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Definitely.”

“When’s the last time she slept?”

The grunted. “I’m not sure she remembers what sleep is.”

“Interesting,” said Damien, and he smiled.

Then the flames winked out completely, he disappeared, and the chamber was left in darkness once again.

[Superhero Live]

(Ninja Dojo)

Chop. Chop. Chop chop chop.

Cital happened to be making some sandwiches. It was incredibly unninja-like, and he knew that, but he had found some rather nice slices of meat to make his said sandwiches. In his opinion, it would be a waste to not use the meat.

Chop chop chop. Chop.

Cital neatly finished up the last of his sandwiches and stepped back to admire them. He set them on a porcelain plate and stepped outside, just in time to feel a chill wind, whipping his scarf into his face. He pulled it down in irritation, and saw that the top of his sandwich had fallen off. Cital quickly snatched it, put it back on. Three second rule. He was safe.

He made his way to the front of the dojo, humming quietly to himself as he did so.

Maybe he would be lucky and find some jelly.

Little did he know that he would find much more than jelly today...

(Fail post lol.)

[Celestial]

Mage Manor

Celestial spent a lot of time in the library ever since the last Guild War. She didn't really care much for the affairs of the other guilds during that time, mostly staying hidden away inside the Manor. It was most definitely not good for her. Very little happened in the Manor, just the way she liked it. There was very little time for the problems of the other guilds, and while the leaderless Mages functioned normally, this lack of leadership did scare her just a little bit. Ikkin had been gone for a while and nobody has volunteered to step up to the job.

She was in the library as usual when she felt the earthquake. Strange tremors were not unusual, with the novices who came in sometimes causing more than their fair share of trouble. This one however, was just too large to have been caused by some careless novice.

Celestial got up and walked out of the library, feeling the weight of Overlord on her shoulder. She sniffed the air, knowing that while her senses were not up to scratch with a dragon in this form, they were better than a normal humans. There was something bad in the air, as if something evil had decided to take action. And it wasn't just the nice type of evil, like she enjoyed. No, this was something malevolent.

The basement. Somebody needed to check on the basement, to make sure it wasn't hurt. She cursed. Celestial hated the basement, it reeked too much of forces that nobody should have to deal with. And she wasn't just talking about the dead rats and the mildew.

As she approached it, she bumped into Rikku. Celestial sighed, getting a feeling of deja vu. Wasn't this how she started her first Guild War, except in the kitchen and trying to nick some food? Boy that was fun.

"What was that?" she asked the necromancer, "More importantly, is there any damage where you came from?"

She didn't like it at all. Something big was starting, just when it was needed least. She wondered if the Mages would be able to survive another war without a proper leader.

They are strong, they'll cope. Overlord said to her in her mind.

But they will be strong enough to thrive? she replied to him. The weewoo became silent.

[Huntress]

(Tabloid Town)

The Tabloid Town harbor was the biggest harbor on the planet, which only made sense because Tabloid Town was also the biggest city on the planet, despite its (somewhat outdated) name. Because of that, jagged forests of masts, yards and lines always stretched towards both ends of the horizon in that harbor, whether it was night or day.

In theory - a theory that the city authorities liked to stress - it meant that it was one of the safest and most heavily guarded places on the planet. Valuable cargo, lots of merchants, lots of wooden ships that really don't like fire, they said. We fully realize that it's a huge risk, they said. Therefore, we always make sure that there's a high concentration of city guards at the harbor and everything's being monitored 24/7, they said. Tabloid Town - A City That Cares, incidentally, we have elections coming up, so if you'd kindly bear in mind... they said.

In reality, pirates who had business in Tabloid Town knew well that the average city guard got only twenty shinies a month minus taxes and that hundreds and hundreds of masts and yards and lines are a pretty good place for hiding a couple more masts and yards and lines. Therefore, things worked pretty well in the big picture.

Even so, pirates didn't really like coming to a city where, if you'd been really good (or really bad, but they preferred the optimistic approach) you could see your face plastered on just about every other wall with a somewhat disconcerting DEAD OR ALIVE written underneath. It made them jumpy. Therefore, a pirate captain had to have a really, really, really good reason for wanting to come to Tabloid Town in broad daylight.

Hunty squatted down on the pier.

As far as really, really good reasons go, 'we're going because I say so' ranks pretty high among pirate captains.

"Keep your distance, I smell," she said cheerfully without any greetings, something of a bad habit she'd never really wanted to shake because if caught people off guard. Bloody Mary, clinging to her shoulder like a dark blue fuzzy manifestation of grim meepitty bad mood, gave Fraze a lazy salute.

"This woman," he said, obviously in the mood to complain, "is nuts. Know that little barbershop in Armada Alley? No. You don't. Cos if you did, you'd have been there, and if you had, you'd be dead."

"Hey now, he's not that bad," Hunty said, peroxide wafting off her in large quantities. Her hair, usually a colorful mass of blonde to dark coffee brown, had brand new glossy black stripes in it.

"Not that bad? He kills people in that barbershop!"

"Maybe he's just a very bad barber," the captain said in the manner of someone who doesn't critisize other people's career choices. "Besides, I only go there to dye, not to shave."

"Yeah, and so does everyone else." The meepit leaped over to Fraze's shoulder, settled down there, sneezed and, against all odds, fell quiet.

Silence reigned, at least for a short while. The sun drifted closer to the horizon. Something sleek and elegant circled the waters farther in the bay. And only a few yards away, something far bigger, darker and somewhat... spikier snuck closer to it.

Hunty looked at it and stifled a sigh.

As far as really, really good reasons go, 'we're going because I say so' only ranks high among very stupid pirate captains. If you're smart, you're going to need something more like 'okay guys, I don't think we should poke around with this. Really, let's just patch him up as best as we can and get out of here. This is out of our league. We'll head to Tabloid Town, it's a couple days away but we'll get supplies there and you'll all get city leaves and I'll go schedule an... appointment, and see if we can get to the bottom of this, deal?'

She gave him a sideways glance and smiled. Well, the really good reasons you give your crew aren't always necessarily truthful.

-but they're still really good reasons.

"How much time do you have?" she asked, falling serious. "I have... something of a favor to ask you, but I really wouldn't want to spoil this sunset."

[Shadaras]

((Kestrel Castle -> Tabloid Town))

Life was different now.

A new king, the loss of so many of her fellows – Shade could name so many changes in Falcorum from the time that a magical gem had appeared in a Dunburrow field and begun a war. She leaned against a windowsill, staring out at the land. Kabe – she still didn’t like using a title for someone who had once been her instructor in the art of a sword – had decided that she should go and check on Tabloid Town, as she was still the Royal Envoy. As much as she hated the title, she had to admit that, of the Knights purely loyal to the throne, she was the most suited for it.

Getting to Tabloid Town sometime before nightfall would require starting to fly sooner rather than later. Shade sighed, turning away from the window and pulling on a backpack filled with all the little useful things that she might require. Her sword and daggers were secured to her belt already, and her rooms in the Tabloid Town embassy had anything else she might need once there.

As she walked through the old stone halls of Kestrel Castle, Shade tried to keep her mind on Kabe’s assignment. It was simple enough in theory: ask the Spacefleet representatives about what had happened to the gem. Rumours had floated down from the Mages and Pirates that there was something wrong with that. And with the motorbike-thing that one of the four horsemen had ridden was strange. Rumours were lovely things. They were also things she was glad to not need to deal with as much anymore; Kabe had installed a proper spymaster shortly after receiving his crown.

Upon reaching a courtyard, Shade closed her eyes and focused just long enough for her shadow to solidify into a pair of demonic wings. She stretched them, and then leapt up into the air. Magic could ignore physics; technically, shadows about as solid as mist and each about the size of a horse shouldn’t be able to lift a human. Technically, such things shouldn’t exist. But magic existed, and so Shade started flying towards Tabloid Town.

Really, the journey there was something that she had done enough times to have the path memorized. There weren’t even any unexpected – or expected – storms or other interesting things to make the journey have even a pretense of fun. Shade half slept through it, flying on instinct. Only when she smelled the sea did she wake up. She liked the ocean. Only when she was on some trip or another to the pirates or Tabloid Town did she see it. It was one of the few things about being Royal Envoy that she truly considered a perk, even if it was just a part of the job.

As she drew near to Tabloid Town, she could see its lights – some magical, some ‘fleet technology, some normal torches and lanterns – shining in the dimming day. The setting sun colored the sea in beautiful shades of deep blue, red, orange, and gold, and the sky echoed those colors, with dusky rose creeping around the edges. The forest of ships spoiled the effect, but the pure white of the White Weewoo made up for it, in Shade’s opinion. It was only so obvious to her because she flew, and she’d learned quite well what the Pirate’s headquarters looked like since she’d become the envoy and a general relay between the Knights and Pirates.

Shade landed near the piers White Weewoo, releasing her wings into her shadow again. As she touched down, something soft as silk and harsh as lightning raced through her. She staggered, eyes widening as she reached for something to brace herself on. Nothing offered itself to her hands, and Shade fell over, that lightning feeling of ice racing through her. Something in the back of her mind, something that had always been there, whimpered and died. Reaching for it, Shade found herself caught in a vacuum of lightless space. Swearing, she felt the damp wood of the piers beneath her body, and reached for that, a stable point of sanity, to keep all of her being from being pulled away.

She opened her eyes.

The night was dark. That simple observation was something new to the half-demon. Night simply should not be dark. It should be dim, yes, but not dark. The night was also cold. This wasn’t so new, but it hadn’t been cold when she’d flown over here, and windchill typically meant that once she landed she was warm. Shade pushed herself upright, reaching instinctively to Savucu. The comforting warmth that usually greeted her hand wasn’t there. The bronze sword was as cold as any normal sword would be, and didn’t have any more of a presence in her mind than a wooden practice sword.

Something had just gone very badly wrong, and Shade wanted to know exactly what had happened and why she didn’t have any of the gifts of her demon blood anymore. Her skill with sword and dagger was something she’d trained for, as was her skill at stealth, but she had used demonic magic to aid her in both of those, and without her wings as an extra avenue of escape, or the ability to see better in the dark than most, Shade felt vulnerable. It wasn’t a very nice feeling, especially when she was in Tabloid Town. She could get a message back to the Knights explaining what had happened, but it’d cost her.

She just hoped that she wasn’t the only person affected by something of this sort. If she was, then she would kill any other demonic-ish person around. And probably a number of the mages, too. And anyone else who annoyed her. Shade stood, glancing around. Someone would have seen her fall like that, she was sure. It was Tabloid Town. Eyes were everywhere, and not all of them were nice. Most, thankfully, knew better than to attack one of the Knights, especially their envoy. Even if she had just ‘slipped’ and fallen upon landing and looked vulnerable.

Shade muttered a curse and started towards Tabloid Town proper, almost hoping that a petty thief would attack her so that she could feel better about her skills now that half of her being had been ripped away, like a dream slipping out into the mists of sleep once more.

[Tokala]

Rushsaw Blackstone sat at his wood and iron desk, in the heart of Brassport, sorting papers. He always sorted papers, especially on cloudy days like today. Of course, sometimes it was hard to tell what was smoke, what was smog and what was actual cloud, but today was dull and grey enough that it had to be at least a bit overcast all the way up there. Nothing in the world could make this day any more boring. He glanced down again at the paper in his hand, the one he was supposed to be reading. It was a report from the
Alchemists that said they were going to fall short on Thermal Energy Producers, which was a complete disaster. Without those little balls that produced clean burning heat, his industry would fall apart.

He owned the biggest company in the city, some would say the only one. After he helped the Alchemists invent those tiny little balls that released extreme heat when exposed to air, he had secured exclusive rights to them. They would only sell to him. No more did the town need to import coal from all over the globe.




Suddenly, Blackstone felt something change. He had no clue why, but he knew that something was different. Very different. He spoke into the tube which connected his office to his secretary's desk just outside.

"Ruth? Did you just feel something?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

"Mr. Blackstone, you felt that too?" she responded. "I don't know what just happened."

"Ruth, see what you can find out and report back to me immediately," he said, his cool nerves taking control of the situation. An affirmative sound issued from the other end of the voice projection apparatus. "Good, now I'm going to check with the Alchemists, see if this was them." He stood up from behind the desk and slipped out a secret passage that lead straight to the Royal Academy of Alchemy's faculty offices. Halfway there, he was met by a broad-shouldered man with grey on his temples, holding up a lantern.

"Just the man I was looking for," the man said, "what the hell did you do?"

"Likewise," Blackstone responded before processing the rest of what had been said, "What did I do? More like what did you do? I've never felt anything like that before!" he shook his head in disbelief. If it wasn't the Alchemists, then what in the name of progress happened? "Are you sure it wasn't one of your students who slipped out from under your nose Athar?"

"I'm sure," he responded gravely, "On my word as an Alchemist." He stopped, bent closer, then lowered his voice, "On my word as your friend." He straightened up, "If it wasn't something you did, then what the hell is it?" Blackstone shrugged his shoulders and made a face.

"I certainly don't know, but I'm having Ruth check it out. Come on back to the office and we'll see if she's got anything yet." Athar nodded and followed Blackstone back. "Ruth?" he called once they got there, "What've you got for me?"

Her voice drifted back through the voice projection apparatus, "Mr. Blackstone?" her voice waivered, "I'm not sure you're going to believe this, but-- people are reporting that we're not-- where we used to be sir."

"Not where we used to be? What does that mean?" he looked at Athar, who stared quizzically back.

"Well, sir, the Palace is gone, and so is... just about everything that used to be outside the city limits. I've even heard some people say that they just saw boats leaving the harbor disappear into nothing. Someone else says they saw an airship that was barely 50 meters above the Aerodome disappear as well." Blackstone slumped against his desk. The Royal Palace gone? Everything outside the city? That wasn't possible!

"Rush?" Athar peered down at him, a concerned expression on his face.

"I just-- I don't believe it." he said breathlessly. "I have to see for myself." He turned towards the tube, "Ruth, have my airship readied, I'm going to find out where we are if we're not still at home," he turned to walk out, then turned back to the tube, "And Ruth? Contact everyone who works for us, and anyone who we've ever contracted out to. I want them to meet me in the Assembly room in two hours. We're going to get to the bottom of this, and I want all the help I can get."

With that, he strode off, Athar following behind. Athar was used to this, Blackstone taking charge in emergency situations. It was really what the man did best. "So," Athar thought, "We're headed to the Aerodome. I wonder what we'll find out."

[Deleted]

((NOTE: "" for regular speech, [] for mental speech (often with italics), italics for thinking to oneself, and <> or <<>> for segments of foreign language))

<<Mage Manor>>

[For the love of Pyra, would you stop devouring that like there's no tomorrow?]

"It's a dangerous world, Lika, and I'm hungry." Well, that's what the girl was attempting to say, anyway. With the mouthful of thick, rich chocolate, it sounded more like a muzzled puppy trying to sing in barotone, and not very well either. At the Felyr's glare--Why doesn't mental speech work both ways?--she swallowed it and licked small, sweet stains of the melted goodness from her fingers. "Oh, live it with," she said with a grin. "It gives you a chance to enjoy some, doesn't it?"

Lika sniffed indignantly, cleaning her paws of some suspiciously-brown spots on the fur. [I can get my own well enough, thank you.]

"Right...geez, you're the only cat I know with a chocolate addiction."

[It is a rather savory treat.]

"Again, riiiiiiight--"

Both stopped and braced themselves against the wall, a small wrap of fruit and some small blocks of cocoa falling from the girl's arms as they felt a large shake beneath them. Aly swore vividly, bending down to pick up the fallen goods and cursing anyone and anything that popped to mind. "Sra...What the heck was that?"

[A young earth mage getting too excited?]

"I'm sure there's an earth mage here somewhere, but are you sure that's it?"

[No.] The Felyr started bounding down a corridor, leaving the fire mage to roll her eyes and run after. With the odd way that Mage Manor was set up (Aly still didn't understand it completely, and she hadn't really bothered), the two came upon other mages. It took Aly a bit of thinking and a nudge from Lika, but she shifted the food in her arms to one side and gave them a short wave and a loud greeting. "'Ey!" she called. "What just happened? Anyone care to share?"

Lika stiffened, which didn't escape Aly's notice. "What?" she asked quietly.

[I don't like this,] the Felyr replied, grimacing.

"Magic?"

[No, this whole manor is permeated with it. Call it an instinct...or an omen.] The feline shivered slightly. [I have a bad feeling.]

***

<<Brassport>>
Asta pulled up her coat around her, gritting her teeth against the slight wind that tried to worm through her clothing. She didn't count this day as great, though it wasn't exceptionally bad either. It had been going well for the most part, when she'd managed to get her hands on a good amount of mercury and a lot more capsules. The chills she was having now, though, weren't exactly reassuring her.

Whatever, she thought, shaking her head. If I can just get home and scrub myself in a nice, long bath...

The city, the streets and rows of buildings she'd gotten so used to walking through, suddenly changed. There was a quiver, a quake under her feet...or was there? Her feet weren't steady. She had a moment to look up at the sky, wondering why it looked different, lighter, and then she found herself wondering how she was looking at the sky when she'd had her eyes trained specifically on the road below her.

And then she fell to the ground, out cold, the world fading to white around her before it faded to nothing at all.

[Amneiger]

((Tabloid Town))


Amneiger was somewhere in Tabloid Town, pacing somewhat nervously under a lit lamp. He was carrying a giftwrapped box under one arm.

Ever since Bribe Bash he'd been feeling a little...different. Like. Well. That he should be saying something to a certain someone. Someone who he happened to like a great deal.

He wasn't even sure why he was feeling this way. It didn't make sense. He was an ordinary human Spacefleet scientist and she was a half-demon Knight. He spent his day in his lab, while she spent her day going out and defending the realm. She knew how to fight from what was no doubt from daily practice and exercise, while his only combat training had been which end to hold the weapon by. His life usually revolved around technology, while her life...did not. Any rational analysis of the situation should have convinced him that this was a total mismatch and that he should do his best to forget about it.

Forgetting about it, however, turned out to be somewhat more impossible to do then he'd expected.

So he'd made a dagger-sized vibroblade for her. He could have just had manufacturing make one, but he'd built this by hand in his lab, carefully crafting each part. He knew that she already had a magical sword, so giving her another sword seemed redundent. After that he'd wrapped up the dagger in the box and had come here to wait. He knew that she was the Royal Envoy, so she'd have to come by Tabloid Town eventually. The only other thing of note that he'd brought with him was his dazzler; he didn't even have a minitank, since he felt that it might be a bit strange to have a personal conversation with a combat robot nearby.

He looked up and saw that she was coming down the road towards him, and his heart leapt. If he'd noticed her current mood he might have waited for a better time to talk to her. Unfortunately, he didn't, so he walked out towards her.

"Shade, I...I...I, uh..."

He realized that he was getting flustered, closed his mouth, took a moment to calm himself down, then held up the box and tried again.

"I wanted to give you..."

His voice trailed off as he saw movement behind her. It was coming from a nearby dark alley. Something was coming out of it.

He did his best to get a good look at what that something was. For some reason it wasn't holding a great deal of shape in his mind. There was an impression of unnaturally long and thin arms, small legs, and an oddly shaped head, but the details kept shifting around.

The only consistent features were a low hissing noise, and that its eyes were large, blank, perfectly round and staring white circles.

"Um...Shade? Behind you."

As he took a step away from the thing, he realized that he could hear the same low hissing noise from everywhere around them.