The Great ChiliBoard

ZOCOM wrote:

The Kobold staff member did her best to stand her ground... But he was a good few feet taller than her and he was just eating monster meat from a beast that would turn her into paste with a single swipe. So she eagerly hugs the wall to let him past into the staff room, since Herlick didn't want to die. Without any evidence that statement sounds dramatic... But Kobolds have a keen sense for danger, it's why most Kobolds end up as trackers/scouts in either the Adventurer's Guild or as past of the Onxy Court Armed Forces.

Farnus was now free to start scarfing down the food in the staffroom, and the ruckus he was starting to make as he no doubt scarfed down that bit of steak and then started to smash into cupboards for the packed food that the other Guild staff brought in for themselves, would go uncontested for the moment.

Though some of the guild staff were starting to give Lox-aan varying looks from helpless or angry.

"I-I'm sorry Lox-aan, I-I couldn't stand my ground." Cried Herlick as she scurried out from behind the the reception area.

Lox-aan was now chewing worriedly on the nail on her thumb, scowling at how this has played out. She knew humans were boorish creatures but this guy was being a d1ck for seemingly no reason. He was closer to a beast than an actual person. "It's no fault of yours... We just approached this from the wrong angle. We're clearly not dealing with anything civilised, wherever this man has been he is far closer to a beast than a person. So we'll need to deal with him like a beast."

Better said than done. A Gurgoth is no easy beast, but still easy enough for even veteran Bronze level Adventurers to handle if they can utilise terrain and outplay the beats with skill and equipment. This man ripped it to shreds with ease... So Farnus must be around a Silver or even Gold level to so handily beat one. None of the Guild staff, even herself, rank higher than Steel with some like Herlick Ranking lower. The only one amongst them who would stand a chance was the Guild Master, the person with connections who told her to look into the Dragneel situation in the first place.

“Herlick, go upstairs and get Guildmaster Thrak, hopefully he isn’t too neck deep in Newt Liquor to come help…” Lox-aan says while the diminutive Kobold nods and scurries off to the side of the room to head upstairs to find the Guildmaster. Guildmaster Threll of the Thrak Tribe, A lizardman of some renown in the Dominion. A Gold Rank Adventurer who took on the position of Guildmaster because of a previous injury where a Chimera managed to gore him in the stomach. Surviving only because of a Gold Rank healer that was in his party at the time.

A loud clatter could be heard from upstairs, along with the sound of shattering glass. Soon enough, Herlick was scampering down the stairs and sluggishly followed after by a humanoid Lizard with the likeness of a gecko. Standing at 6'3ft with broad shoulders, a strong upper body and a well built physique under the robe that only covered half his torso, showing the large horizontal scar across his midriff. A spear clutched in his left hand as his left hand for support, the spear's shaft was made of a black metal while the spear tip glowed an ethereal light blue, chilling the air around it.

The Lizardman stunk of cheap booze, but his eyes focussed on the ungodly sound of clattering and mayhem coming from the staff room in the back of the Guildhall. "Umph... Shouldn't have had that fifth bottle... Is the Dragneel in the back?" He asks aloud.

Most of the guild staff immediately look to Lox-aan since this was her mess to deal with. Looking to them and challenging their gazes, Lox-aan answers. "Yes. He is. He was brought in a short while ago by two of our local Bronze Ranks. He tore a Gurgoth apart with his own hands, sir."

A slight smile curled across the wide mouth of the Lizardman as he lulled his head from side to side, pressing the tip of his spear against the top of his head to sober himself up. "Huh, truly? I might need to give this welp a try then before we turn him over to Overseer Brunt." Threll says as the cold spearhead eases his headache enough for him to take this seriously. "Wait for me outside. And send someone to fetch the Overseer." On his word the guildhall begins to clear out, Lox-aan leaving last as she watches one of her colleagues disappear to carry out the order to find Overseer Brunt.

Now that everyone was gone, the Guildmaster hops over the counter to head to the back, to behold the mess this human was making for himself.

The nose of the hybrid guides him to new hidden food, swiftly liberated from their hidden locations. Farnus pulls open doors to grab what's hidden within, and if the doors are locked or open in a way different to how he is doing it they give anyways with broken hinges and cabinet and refridgerator doors littering his wake. Cooked, raw, meat, starches, carbs, plants- Farnus consumes it all at a blistering pace. His black tail whips about as he sniffs out some dried meat in the form of emergency travel rations kept to sell to adventurers as emergency provisions. It also twitches in agitation as he senses something moving towards him, instead of away.

So when Guildmaster Thrak sees what is causing the disaster in the guild kitchen, he is locked with the burning and snarling gaze of a dragon.

The sensation instantly ends, and he sees a half-boy and half-dragon in the middle of inhaling a chunk of dried unidentifiable meat, watching him with his red eyes. They keep track of his every move, more like a dog defensive of its bone than a wary human. The kitchen has been completely overturned and ruined, and the damage seems to not be ending just yet as his nose twitches with the scent of more hidden treats. Farnus inhales the meat in his clawed hands before turning back to the cupboard he pilfered the ration from, digging more dried meat out. His back has turned fully to Thrak, now completely ignoring him. Either he is unaware of the danger he's in, or has written Thrak off as not a threat. Difficult to tell, as Farnus himself is revealing no signs as to how powerful he is. His souls are heavily muted, and his body feels like it lacks any magical power that would be necessary to slay a Gurgoth, let alone pull one apart bare-handed. The only sign that he may be more than he seems is the vision of a snarling dragon's head filling the kitchen that Thrak had seen for but a moment.

Wabacha wrote:

The two share a troublemaker's grin before they begin to leave the house, Heimrich gesturing to Vance for him to follow. Heimrich shuts the front door after they all step outside, though pauses and shares another look with Alice when Vance asks if they're going to be using abilities to get to Darly. They both had spent together quite some time in quickly moving from place to place, staying ahead of Templars looking for signs of a super powered person and a woman. Laying low was something they were accustomed to at this point. But Vance has never had a reason to, at least not like this.

"Not quite. Your powers will cause quite a stir if you use them too openly, even among non aura users. Same would apply to me if I used my Mentat abilities openly. This time we're going on foot, using nothing but our physical ability. You're going to have to get used to hiding what you can do. We're a lot farther east now than you or Duncan have ever been. There are a lot more eyes out here than you can imagine. You have a good strong base," Heimrich says as he begins to flicker, rapidly relocating from one spot to another, like he was spacing out an opponent in a spar. The rate he is moving is difficult to pin down for Vance. He can tell that while he can still see the movements rather clearly, the rate Heimrich is moving would be completely invisible to his old base in Duncan's body, and probably invisible to everyone in this village bar them and Atticus. Curiously Alice can follow Heimrich even easier than he can. With the gift of sight Heimrich has given her to see even Mentat levels of speed, Heimrich right now likely looks slower than usual. "You'll just have to get used to your current limits. I can lead us to Darly, and we'll be going through the forest at your pace. I'll be making sure we won't be noticed."

Heimrich stops his movement next to Alice and scoops her up in a bridal carry. This is something they've done before while they were on the run, though with Vance here now a hint of red touches Alice's cheeks to be doing this in front of someone else. Hints of green energy runs through Heimrich's skin as a calm fills the air, signs of the Mentat's presence that encircle both Vance and Heimrich carrying Alice. The sensation fades as the hiding effect is woven around them, making sure that they would spent their time in Darly unnoticed while they are outside the warded forest.

"Alright. Try to keep up, yeah?" Heimrich tells Vance before he and Alice practically vanish, already well north of the village in the span of a blink for a normal man. But Vance is far from normal. He may be uncertain in how well he can avoid running into and through the dense trees at such speed, but he is certainly capable. The run to Darly will prove a strong confidence builder in himself, and a good distraction from the ache in his heart.

The great grumbling continues as he follows the troublesome pair out of the house. He had a feeling that the two of them were going to continue calling back to how romantic he was for the rest of the day. So today was going to be one hell of a toll on his sanity.

Vance pauses and looks at Heimrich with a quizzical look as he says his powers will cause a stir. "We have Demons, Angels, Forgotten and all kinds of supernatural sh!t going on everyday. And a guy with black flames is gonna cause the most commotion? Even Scotti used a type of Black Fire for alot of our training..." He wasn't too well versed in too many Aura natures outside of what Duncan was taught, and Sam told them. Though with Sam's own warped sense of logic, and lack of common sense for modern scaling of Aura, it's likely that Vance has little idea of just how much Aura has actually declined since the Golden Age since the Golden Age crew are the only available example at hand.

And he didn't really care enough to look into the girl that was hovering around Crash to see an example of a modern aura mage.

Vance had a very sheltered opinion on Aura. Only knowing what he himself has experienced. And having the lifetime experience of someone who grew up in a land where magic was abundant down to people who can't use magic being in the minority, the concept of people finding powers strange was not on his radar.

Though he did understand why Heimrich wouldn't be using the Mentat so openly. It was nuts and frankly overkill to be using that for some light travel.

Vance does his best to try and keep his eyes out for Heimrich, eyes flickering around to catch the glimpses of his afterimages and finding him only after he moves at first, though the more he wanted to find Heimrich, the more easy it became to start gaining on his location. But he sees that Alice can perfectly keep up with him... Whatever he gave her before the rematch was certainly doing its job...

He felt whatever Heimrich was doing after seeing the tint of green run through the guy's skin after he picked up Alice. Practical. And something bulliable. "Getting warm over there?" Vance says as he see's Alice blush, giving her a similar grin to the one they gave him. He didn't have long to enjoy in that gloriously little slice of petty vengeance before Heimrich and Alice vanished. But Vance was not too far behind.

In the first fleeting moments of them disappearing, Vance had focussed solely on speed to try and keep pace. But that gap was growing larger, frustration easily wormed its way forward into his head because of that. Hasty imitations of Accel or any movement magic he had seen were thrown together to give chase.

The distance was growing.

The forest was not easy to navigate at these speeds, he already felt himself crash right through one before he realised it. Needless to say. Ouch.

But the more Vance stumbled.

The more Vance made mistakes as he did his best to follow them.

The faster he grew.

The more precise his movements. Less crashes too.

The stronger the emerald glow in his eyes as he became more motivated.

He didn't want to fall too far behind them, but he was playing catch up the whole time.

Wabacha wrote:

Alice sticks her tongue out at Vance in response before they leave him in the dust. Heimrich doesn't respond to Vance's open question regarding why he should keep his powers as much under wraps as possible. He lets him remember on his own time the conversation they had about his ancient power, and the attention it can draw. The same reason he uses the Mentat to create the illusion of normalcy around their souls and power levels for when they reach their destination. And the same reason they are doing this now. Vance is used to fighting using abilities and spells. Not as much with his own natural skills. It takes time for Vance to catch up enough to sense what Heimrich is doing, only to find him difficult to track. Mainly because his Aura feels like it hasn't been unlocked, perk of Mantra, but he is also not using any Aura at all. He moves and weaves smoothly through the dense trees at incredible speed like a phantom, all with Alice in his arms. He even is barely disturbing the leaves and plants he passes by, difficult to track by the five senses, and by sixth senses too.

It is the opposite for Heimrich keeping tabs on Vance. Vance isn't doing anything overt like flying with a generated jet of flame or something like that, but his motivation is climbing in his desire to catch up. His unique burning soul is like a house-sized bonfire following Heimrich, and only burning hotter. A good thing to train and get used to, but he's had plenty of that already. He needs to learn now in the real world how to avoid attracting attention from across the sector. Luckily they're still in the forest, and under Atticus's protections. Even with that issue, he's getting more used to reacting and avoiding high speed obstacles, and formulating multistep plans to weave through the dense trees at the speed they're moving.

Heimrich doesn't slow down, but he does increase the width of the weaves he is making, lengthening his path which allows Vance who's taking a more efficient path to catch up. "You need to relax," Heimrich tells him rather calmly, while he's tripled how many trees he's weaving though at a time. "Don't think of it as a competition, or trying to keep up with us. You need to learn how to move in a fight at this pace, when your soul is at its calmest, and hardest to sense. Cuz right now you're a lighthouse."

"We'd win anyways," Alice adds in an unhelpful manner.

Vance's own question would be lost too quickly for him to question why he had to worry about being overt. Though he'll remember why he has to keep his Primal Magic on the down low if he thinks of it again, it would be hard not to remember the Red haired man or that creepy pale bastard that nearly manifested in his mentalscape.

Vance was not used to using natural skills. That much was true. His subtle nature only applied to matters of the mind, for subterfuge and illusions, for lying. Not for this.

Moving around in the real world required magic, be it Enochian, Old Magic or Aura.

Trying to be covert like this wasn't in his skill set. Though now was as good a time to learn as any. It was a necessary skill to learn with what will be happening going forward.

'This is crazy...!'

Vance was doing everything he can just to keep them in sight and try to keep them in his visual range, but Heimrich is weaving through this forest like a ghost. He was unsure if Heimrich was even really dodging or if he was using some kind of Logia-like skill to just go through the forest and using illusions to try and trip him up mentally.

He was a hair away from constantly losing the goofy pair if his motivation wasn't constantly rising from the fact that he naturally has that Cross family inclination of 'losing is for losers, RAAAAAAH'.

He does recall why he needs to not be a primal lighthouse all the time. But it seemed easier said than done, his future never told him how he could be covert with this power either... Then again, his future self had abandoned all attachment and went on his own. So that loner had no reason to hide. Fat load of good that was to him.

Being told he needs to relax does little to lessen the fuel for the bonfire.

"Great advice." He sarcastically grumbles. "How would I even do that?!" He blurts out after being told that he needed to remain calm, having nearly face planted into a tree yet again as Heimrich increases just how many trees he continues to weave past by a ridiculous amount.

The main issue was, Vance has only ever fought in highly emotional situations. The power of the Godling and all of Salem's passed down abilities require a great deal of emotional turmoil in order for them to work because of how flawed the recreated Gates were from the original Gates of Triumph. To be emotional like this was so ingrained in him at this point, and with how his Primal abilities work... Being calm was... Well a run in the woods was NOT going to solve this.

Also, how was this NOT a competition at this point? He was showing off and expecting him NOT to take this as a challenge? And Alice wasn't helping.

ZOCOM wrote:

Vance's own question would be lost too quickly for him to question why he had to worry about being overt. Though he'll remember why he has to keep his Primal Magic on the down low if he thinks of it again, it would be hard not to remember the Red haired man or that creepy pale bastard that nearly manifested in his mentalscape.

Vance was not used to using natural skills. That much was true. His subtle nature only applied to matters of the mind, for subterfuge and illusions, for lying. Not for this.

Moving around in the real world required magic, be it Enochian, Old Magic or Aura.

Trying to be covert like this wasn't in his skill set. Though now was as good a time to learn as any. It was a necessary skill to learn with what will be happening going forward.

'This is crazy...!'

Vance was doing everything he can just to keep them in sight and try to keep them in his visual range, but Heimrich is weaving through this forest like a ghost. He was unsure if Heimrich was even really dodging or if he was using some kind of Logia-like skill to just go through the forest and using illusions to try and trip him up mentally.

He was a hair away from constantly losing the goofy pair if his motivation wasn't constantly rising from the fact that he naturally has that Cross family inclination of 'losing is for losers, RAAAAAAH'.

He does recall why he needs to not be a primal lighthouse all the time. But it seemed easier said than done, his future never told him how he could be covert with this power either... Then again, his future self had abandoned all attachment and went on his own. So that loner had no reason to hide. Fat load of good that was to him.

Being told he needs to relax does little to lessen the fuel for the bonfire.

"Great advice." He sarcastically grumbles. "How would I even do that?!" He blurts out after being told that he needed to remain calm, having nearly face planted into a tree yet again as Heimrich increases just how many trees he continues to weave past by a ridiculous amount.

The main issue was, Vance has only ever fought in highly emotional situations. The power of the Godling and all of Salem's passed down abilities require a great deal of emotional turmoil in order for them to work because of how flawed the recreated Gates were from the original Gates of Triumph. To be emotional like this was so ingrained in him at this point, and with how his Primal abilities work... Being calm was... Well a run in the woods was NOT going to solve this.

Also, how was this NOT a competition at this point? He was showing off and expecting him NOT to take this as a challenge? And Alice wasn't helping.

Hmmm... He was having a harder time with this than he thought. Vance is pretty literal when it come to these things it seems. Heimrich feels a tap on his arm from Alice, who has been watching Vance struggle behind them. They lock eyes for a moment, and he can see the earnestness in hers. It seems she has an idea. "Can we stop here?" She asks.

"Sure." Heimrich slows at a pace that would allow Vance to notice and not plow into them, and the three of them eventually come to a stop. They are still deep in the forest, with no clear path through it. Heimrich lets Alice down, allowing her to approach Vance with her idea.

"I think I know a way, but you'll have to copy what I do, ok?" Alice tells him.

Wabacha wrote:

Hmmm... He was having a harder time with this than he thought. Vance is pretty literal when it come to these things it seems. Heimrich feels a tap on his arm from Alice, who has been watching Vance struggle behind them. They lock eyes for a moment, and he can see the earnestness in hers. It seems she has an idea. "Can we stop here?" She asks.

"Sure." Heimrich slows at a pace that would allow Vance to notice and not plow into them, and the three of them eventually come to a stop. They are still deep in the forest, with no clear path through it. Heimrich lets Alice down, allowing her to approach Vance with her idea.

"I think I know a way, but you'll have to copy what I do, ok?" Alice tells him.

Vance was tunnelling pretty hard, doing his best to push himself into catching up with them even as that distance between them never seemed to close. It wasn't until that distance was closing that he noticed that he wasn't catching up. No. They were slowing down?

'Wha- Why are they slowing down?' He thought to himself. Was he causing a problem? Dammit, he must be...

As they came to a slow stop, Vance was trying to think of how he could do better. But he was stumped. He had to use Hate to use his power but he was being asked to 'keep calm'. May as well ask him to solve world hunger. No, that's not fair. He might be able to do it, but he doesn't know how. He's shares a similar mindset to Duncan, similar temperament too. Keeping a cool head while angry was not a Cross strong suit.

Vance looked to Alice as she approached, wondering what she was going to say. Hearing what it was, the primal man raised an eyebrow but it wasn't like he had any better ideas. Maybe all he needed was an example. "Sure. Go for it." Says Vance. He's only really just met Alice, so he's going out on a limb to trust her, same as her really. But he was sure he could trust her and this wasn't some kind of way to make fun of him.

Wabacha wrote:

The way the eye opens in Haelgrym is unnerving. So unnatural. Though what is natural these days. The way Revan brought up mentioning the sword however brings a question to Heimrich's mind. "Is the sword a key off some sort?"

Revan cared little to inflate the Blade's already considerable ego, picky and pedantic piece of metal that it was, but he did confirm Heimrich's suspicions. "Of a sort. Haelgrym devours many kinds of mystical essence. A devious curse looms over the ancient capital of our homeland, one laid by the original Salem to keep the Spirit Well closed and cut us off from Spirits so our people lose the ability to commune with Old Spirits and gain patrons more easily. More importantly, we lost our ability to commune with Moria."

"The son of the egg bleeder wishes to make Haelgrym eat a Forgotten curse?! May as well ask Haelgrym to eat a Reaper."

Revan looked down at the blade held in Samantha's hand with a dismissal. "Oh, you'll do it. And do it gladly. Otherwise I'll throw you to the Dwarves you lump of wasted steel."

The beastly blade snarled, the eye along the blade narrowing and shaking as it sounded like the blade was cracking. "I will not suffer at the hand of those Deep children again. Hmph. Fine. Haelgrym will eat the filthy curse."

"Good little butter knife." Revan says with a coy smile before looking back to Heimrich and Samantha. "It's easier to have him eat the curse than to waste time dealing with it ourselves. With me there we can enter the Palace easily too, since it is where I was born in my first life. I know plenty of secret entrances the forgotten don't know about."

Wabacha wrote:

The way the eye opens in Haelgrym is unnerving. So unnatural. Though what is natural these days. The way Revan brought up mentioning the sword however brings a question to Heimrich's mind. "Is the sword a key off some sort?"

"It's a key all the time, and when you stick it in people, it unlocks their death"

West Beyond the Citadel, Crimson Range Border

Smoke rises above the canopy of trees, blanketing the rising sun. Sam stands a short distance behind the silent knight deep in prayer, illuminated by the funeral pyre alight with holy blue flames. His best friend lay upon it still clad in half-digested armor. Finally lifeless after three nights of nightmares. The ageless Vampire had never seen a creature like him before, shrugging off deathblow after deathblow and recovering with speed rivaling the supernaturals, if not even faster. And with alarming strength as well. His hand subconsciously rubs his neck, where an armored boot snapped it just a night ago. Even with suppressing his physical abilities to avoid suspicions, it is a disturbing feat. Their only relief is that removing the host from the evolving beast killed both. He can see and hear that all lifesigns are gone. Still, he will be be keeping his ear close to the underworld grapevine for a while. They can't afford to let another monster like Heimrich roam free.

With his prayers completed, Duncan's eyes open to look at Heimrich one last time. “I know you didn't believe in the Goddess like us Zoconians do, so I prayed to your gods too buddy. I hope they don't mind a good word in your behalf coming from a pagan.” His joking smile falters for a moment. “I pray they remember all the good you've done for everyone, and not what you became.”

There is no hesitation when Duncan places His hand on lost friend's burning shoulder, ignoring the searing pain coming through his gauntlet and the blistering of his skin. “Goodbye, Heimrich. I pray you find your peace in the hereafter.”

Duncan turns and leaves, his eyes now focused on the Citadel and the future, rebuffing Sam's token offer to heal the burns the vampire can very well smell. They leave the pyre and perpetrator of the slaughter of Fort Arcius's Templars to burn alone, making their own versions of peace that the threat is now gone. Heimrich is dead. His armor and body will become ashes, scattered by the breeze under ruby trees. That is the end of his story, cut shirt before it can truly begin.

But that is not fate's design.

He lay motionless, by all rights a corpse. But in each charring cell, in every drop of inert blood, in each silent neuron, there is anticipation. Waiting for the call to enact resurrection. And it slowly comes, long after the departure of his killer; A gentle gust of wind, luring the scent of his own charring flesh into his nose.

The spark of life races through Heimrich's body as he draws a hoarse gasp of air. Immediately he coughs and gags upon the mix of of smoke, incense, and his own burning flesh. The pain then sets in, and instinct rolls Heimrich off of the pyre and onto the dew covered grass with a crash of armor pieces. His armor scatters him, the straps used to bind it to him have long burned away. Heimrich in his throes experiences a sensation familiar to his body, but not his mind. Muscles spasm as they shed burnt fibers and skin and reknit themselves together, a sight horrifying to see. The pain the now doused flames left behind is immediately gone, letting Heimrich’s mind focus entirely on the horror he is experiencing. He sees dark blue and red flesh before his skin stretches closed over it, the end of his body moving of its own accord.

His hands rapidly move across his body, checking to see if he was in one piece while his mind races. It feels like an eternity as he forces himself to try and calm down. He could tell that something was wrong with how he was perceiving time. Turning to look at the pyre behind him, his pyre, the flames weren't even moving. Heimrich looks down at his hands, then back up at the flame. He feels like he's moving normally. Finally standing, he waves a questing hand slowly through a frozen tongue of flame. Despite moving at what he feels would be a steady pace, the flame parts around it without leaving a sensation of heat. Heimrich looks at his hand with confusion as the parted flame continues to move, rapidly slowing until it too appears frozen once again. An odd result that gave him some important information. He wasn't frozen in time, luckily. He was simply too fast. Faster than he thought possible, faster than anything he's ever witnessed. Maybe even faster than the were-

The memories of the last three nights return.

Heimrich falls to his knees, gripping the sides of his head in the vain attempt to block out the visions. There is no use, he cannot escape what he had done. As the memories ravage their way through his mind his hands release his skull, falling to his sides with a tremble in the fingers. The things they had done felt like a film, released directly into his brain. He didn't feel like he was the one in control, but certainly the one who experienced it. But it does bring with it one sobering realization.

Heimrich's heart in time cools, and the flames begin to move. He can hear now the wind and the rustling of grass. The passing of each subtle scent of the forest hidden under the brashness of his own funeral. Now stable legs bring him back to his feet, and Heimrich holds one outstretched hand out in front of him, blocking the sun. He remembers nothing after the gluttonous beast began to grow from his body. And he feels no ill effects now. Whatever happened between then and waking up burning had freed him from that influence… Temporarily, at the very least. Heimrich looks down to see that his clothing that was under the armor was little more than smoking tatters, before staring into the blue flames. Only a Templar's rite could make flames like this. Duncan had something to do with his ‘death’ and newfound freedom.

He turns to look in the direction of the Citadel, but knows there is nothing left for him there. Being clear headed wouldn't garner him anything more than being aware of his execution if he were to go there. Knowing his time as a Templar is over pangs his heart, but now he must think of his own life. Whatever is left of it. And if he were to get started, he needed clothes and supplies. Only one place readily comes to mind.

Heimrich turns on his heel and leaves the Citadel behind him, striding past his pyre and back into the shade of crimson trees. He has to return where his life had ended, and where his destiny begins. With its fuel walking away the pyre has little time left. Within the hour the flames will consume what is left and its heat will fade. Leaving only ashes behind that tell the lost stories of what was and what might have been.

NS was down for so long I got married, had a kid, got divorced, fought for custody, lost, hired a hitman, won custody, sent my kid to college and retired

Wabacha wrote:

The trip back to the lobby had become a tense affair. They can all feel the seconds passing by on the elevator ride down, fearing the sight of Cassian on the other side of the doors. They were in luck, he wasn't there in the lobby to meet them. Hayes notices the odd flow of air coming from the janitor's closet, and tracks it further yet to a secret elevator within it. "Leads only down," He remarks as he sees the buttons. It was an unspoken agreement between the four to go. Cassian may be coming towards this tower, the last thing they want to do is meet him outside. Besides, this may lead to a way out of the barrier, or to Clara's dad. So the four enter the elevator without a word, hearing the maintenance room reset above them as they descend into the unknown.

Stepping down into that lobby was the most nerve racking thing. Thankfully everything was good, no sign of Cassian or any of his crazy cultist followers… They either haven’t found them yet, or they were too caught up in other places across London.

Finding the secret elevator in the janitor's closet, Brandon didn’t even seem surprised. “Of course they have a hidden elevator… I’ll bet they have a hidden metro to one of their safehouses or black sites from here.” He says as he joins everyone in the elevator. Watching them close as Brandon calls back Stardust to him since they’re heading underground now.

Once inside the elevator there was a panel. But it only had three buttons. A maintenance button for distress, one to open the doors, and one marked ML0.

Brandon didn’t even look surprised. At least this one didn’t have a keycard reader to operate it, looks like they didn’t expect anyone to find this… But it’s really poor security for the Foundation. Oh well. As long as no one stops him or does it first, Brandon pushes the button. The elevator motors whir to life and they start to head down.

Clara watched the doors close and sigh under her breath. She REALLY wasn’t looking forward to a surprise visit from her family's creepy immortal stalker. Again. “Did… Did London seem quieter when we were briefly topside?”

Brandon narrowed his eyes, about to say how stupid that sounded, but thinking for a moment he did only hear the sound of sirens. No screaming, no sounds of the assorted undead that has been hounding the streets looking for survivors, and no sounds of idiots flinging spells. “Now that you mention it… I noticed a lack of people screaming and zombies doing their zombie thing.”

Wabacha wrote:

"It will be best to continue this conversation then on the surface, where my senses will be less impeded. I will take us back, just a moment gentlemen. Diamond Prison!" The hero's mask flashes and a pink box forms around the Stranger and Marcus. Though both have barely closed before they notice the outside world blur for just a fraction of a second, like a minute error in a TV screen. Then the boxes dissolve away again, all three now standing outside the damaged church. Diamond Eye is already turning about, likely putting in his senses to the test. "There are few souls that are not already being escorted to safety. I sensed for a moment a small group in the center of London, then most of them disappeared. It feels as if they went down, deep in the earth."

Marcus watches as the box formed rapidly, something that irked him to a degree because he was confident in his abilities as a Speedster and someone who can operate in stopped time. But this ‘Diamond Prison’ formed almost too fast for him, and their journey outside was on a level of speed that he was almost uncomfortable with. ‘Who the heck is this guy?’ Once they reach the surface, he can’t help but keep an eye on the armoured Hero, he’s met many people while working with the Foundation as an attachee from his organisation. And he was certain that this man was amongst some of the strongest he’s met in person… ‘Why the hell did a guy like this come to London…’

The Stranger looked to where Diamond Eye was pointing, noting the area he was talking about. “Central London…” The Stranger went quiet before looking at Marcus. “You met Agent Haligan at the Tower Safe House right?”

Marcus was hopeful that what Diamond Eye was describing was his daughter. Hopefully that was her, but he told her to go home. Why did she seemingly go deeper into London than where they were? Hearing the Stranger he quirked an eyebrow in response before he realises what he could be getting at. “Yes, after I retreated from Cassian when he started winning our first fight, I went to the Safehouse’s public space and found Haligan there. But Cassian followed me, we were swarmed by Undead and Haligan…”

The Stranger noted his trailing off as confirmation of the agent’s untimely termination. “Dammit… Administrator Philian isn’t going to be happy that Cassian took his ‘Asura’ ability. She was preparing him to become the next division administrator out here… But… It looks like Cassian hasn’t taken your ability.”

Marcus didn’t care for all this talking. But had to at least answer. “No, he refused to. I think he’s only interested in getting my daughter’s ability. He already has Time Stop and plenty of other abilities he’s stolen that can counter me now. My Photon-Boost ability is the only thing that’s keeping me in the game against him, I can react in stopped time but only move in bursts.” He explains, looking off in the direction of the tower of London. “If they disappeared then they’re heading to the Foundation’s secret Metro tunnel under London. They might be able to get out of the city with that. Right?”

“They might.” Answers the Stranger. “Unless the Metro has been sabotaged. But I doubt even Cassian’s cult knows about that… We’ll just be playing catch up if we follow them. It might be better if we head them off at the Site that the Metro is connected to. They can only go to one from here. That’s a site at Stonehenge.”

ZOCOM wrote:

Stepping down into that lobby was the most nerve racking thing. Thankfully everything was good, no sign of Cassian or any of his crazy cultist followers… They either haven’t found them yet, or they were too caught up in other places across London.

Finding the secret elevator in the janitor's closet, Brandon didn’t even seem surprised. “Of course they have a hidden elevator… I’ll bet they have a hidden metro to one of their safehouses or black sites from here.” He says as he joins everyone in the elevator. Watching them close as Brandon calls back Stardust to him since they’re heading underground now.

Once inside the elevator there was a panel. But it only had three buttons. A maintenance button for distress, one to open the doors, and one marked ML0.

Brandon didn’t even look surprised. At least this one didn’t have a keycard reader to operate it, looks like they didn’t expect anyone to find this… But it’s really poor security for the Foundation. Oh well. As long as no one stops him or does it first, Brandon pushes the button. The elevator motors whir to life and they start to head down.

Clara watched the doors close and sigh under her breath. She REALLY wasn’t looking forward to a surprise visit from her family's creepy immortal stalker. Again. “Did… Did London seem quieter when we were briefly topside?”

Brandon narrowed his eyes, about to say how stupid that sounded, but thinking for a moment he did only hear the sound of sirens. No screaming, no sounds of the assorted undead that has been hounding the streets looking for survivors, and no sounds of idiots flinging spells. “Now that you mention it… I noticed a lack of people screaming and zombies doing their zombie thing.”

"I am only seeing corpses," Ezekiel says, using the Faceless Man's awareness as it runs though the city. "Most of the fresh ones zombies and other monsters. It seems like a cleanup crew has been going through the city."

The old man muses on that, as he feels the elevator car subtly move and shake about during its silent descent. "No soldiers huh."

"... No, the streets are empty, and I haven't seen a soldier or police officer."

"Hm. Must be the Foundation sending agents of some sort. Someone was making those flying boxes. If we're lucky, they'll slow Cassian down."

Ezekiel glances at Hayes's callous comment, but says nothing regarding it specifically. "If I see anyone, I'll let you all know."

ZOCOM wrote:

Marcus watches as the box formed rapidly, something that irked him to a degree because he was confident in his abilities as a Speedster and someone who can operate in stopped time. But this ‘Diamond Prison’ formed almost too fast for him, and their journey outside was on a level of speed that he was almost uncomfortable with. ‘Who the heck is this guy?’ Once they reach the surface, he can’t help but keep an eye on the armoured Hero, he’s met many people while working with the Foundation as an attachee from his organisation. And he was certain that this man was amongst some of the strongest he’s met in person… ‘Why the hell did a guy like this come to London…’

The Stranger looked to where Diamond Eye was pointing, noting the area he was talking about. “Central London…” The Stranger went quiet before looking at Marcus. “You met Agent Haligan at the Tower Safe House right?”

Marcus was hopeful that what Diamond Eye was describing was his daughter. Hopefully that was her, but he told her to go home. Why did she seemingly go deeper into London than where they were? Hearing the Stranger he quirked an eyebrow in response before he realises what he could be getting at. “Yes, after I retreated from Cassian when he started winning our first fight, I went to the Safehouse’s public space and found Haligan there. But Cassian followed me, we were swarmed by Undead and Haligan…”

The Stranger noted his trailing off as confirmation of the agent’s untimely termination. “Dammit… Administrator Philian isn’t going to be happy that Cassian took his ‘Asura’ ability. She was preparing him to become the next division administrator out here… But… It looks like Cassian hasn’t taken your ability.”

Marcus didn’t care for all this talking. But had to at least answer. “No, he refused to. I think he’s only interested in getting my daughter’s ability. He already has Time Stop and plenty of other abilities he’s stolen that can counter me now. My Photon-Boost ability is the only thing that’s keeping me in the game against him, I can react in stopped time but only move in bursts.” He explains, looking off in the direction of the tower of London. “If they disappeared then they’re heading to the Foundation’s secret Metro tunnel under London. They might be able to get out of the city with that. Right?”

“They might.” Answers the Stranger. “Unless the Metro has been sabotaged. But I doubt even Cassian’s cult knows about that… We’ll just be playing catch up if we follow them. It might be better if we head them off at the Site that the Metro is connected to. They can only go to one from here. That’s a site at Stonehenge.”

"Then the next step shall begin postehaste. I will transport you both to the breach. There are still souls trapped within this city. With the main body of this cult defeated, I will now be able to focus fully on rescuing every person trapped within. Diamond Prison!"

The pink translucent box reforms around the Stranger and Marcus, and begins to lift into the air. They look down at Diamond Eye, his ruby red hair and pure white cape flowing in the wind. "Head to Stonehenge. Once my business here is finished, I will rendezvous with you. Good luck."

The Diamond Prison lifts further into the sky, before arcing across the horizon in a flash of light. Diamond Eye watches them leave for a moment, before disappearing himself. With nothing to slow him down, he will be able to track each human still left in the city with far greater efficiency. And if he stumbles across the man responsible for this disaster, sobeit.

For the Stranger and Marcus, the trip lasts barely a second. The Diamond Prison vanishes, and they find themselves standing in front of the breach Diamond Eye had created in the forcefield. The British military is overseeing escorting survivors out, and watching over the cultists trapped inside Diamond Prisons that float just about the ground all around. Further beyond them, they can see what's left of the zombies and monsters that had attempted to pass through the breach. The military and the Stranger's illustrations have certainly been busy. It's up to them now to get to Stonehenge, before Cassian or Clara does.

ZOCOM wrote:

Akina watched the whole rollercoaster of emotions that Aiden was currently suffering under, it was adorable and somewhat worrying seeing him shift between mental states so rapidly. She was surprised he didn't get whiplash. Kidding. Though what he said last really got a smile out of her. He was so awkward. "You sound like a goblin trader, speaking so clinical and stiff. Relax." She says as she reaches out, patting his arm hard. Though he was pretty durable, he likely hardly felt it.

Chloe however just kept looking up at the both of them, watching as Aiden kept floundering like a fish out of water. She tilted her head to one side, ear flopping with it, wondering what kind of courting ritual lasted this long.

Akina looked down at the little pink rabbit, wondering what was going on in that little head of hers, before looking back at Aiden again as she steps away and walk back to the sink to deal with her dishes after dinner. "Just be yourself, you doofus. The only person you need to prove anything to is yourself, seeing as you're dealing with a whole new life here."

"I-er-right..." Aiden can't help but feel playfully defeated as Akina's words. On one hand this is a whole new life, a new world he's trying to adjust to, but on the other hand he has already found a few people he should be able to trust with anything. People who know who he really is and are willing to help him keep it a secret. As if trying to power through the situation mostly the mental reeling from...whatever that kiss just was, even more so the follow up comment, Aiden's voice chips in with a playful tone. "You know, you still haven't really seen me being 'myself'. It's not like I was a nervous wreck like this in my old life too. It's just, a lot happened really fast. And uh...admittedly I'm not that experienced with women. At all, actually."

Wabacha wrote:

The nose of the hybrid guides him to new hidden food, swiftly liberated from their hidden locations. Farnus pulls open doors to grab what's hidden within, and if the doors are locked or open in a way different to how he is doing it they give anyways with broken hinges and cabinet and refrigerator doors littering his wake. Cooked, raw, meat, starches, carbs, plants- Farnus consumes it all at a blistering pace. His black tail whips about as he sniffs out some dried meat in the form of emergency travel rations kept to sell to adventurers as emergency provisions. It also twitches in agitation as he senses something moving towards him, instead of away.

So when Guildmaster Thrak sees what is causing the disaster in the guild kitchen, he is locked with the burning and snarling gaze of a dragon.

The sensation instantly ends, and he sees a half-boy and half-dragon in the middle of inhaling a chunk of dried unidentifiable meat, watching him with his red eyes. They keep track of his every move, more like a dog defensive of its bone than a wary human. The kitchen has been completely overturned and ruined, and the damage seems to not be ending just yet as his nose twitches with the scent of more hidden treats. Farnus inhales the meat in his clawed hands before turning back to the cupboard he pilfered the ration from, digging more dried meat out. His back has turned fully to Thrak, now completely ignoring him. Either he is unaware of the danger he's in, or has written Thrak off as not a threat. Difficult to tell, as Farnus himself is revealing no signs as to how powerful he is. His souls are heavily muted, and his body feels like it lacks any magical power that would be necessary to slay a Gurgoth, let alone pull one apart bare-handed. The only sign that he may be more than he seems is the vision of a snarling dragon's head filling the kitchen that Thrak had seen for but a moment.

Locking eyes with this beast that was making such an unruly fuss in the employee pantry, a single terrible flash of a great and terrible dragon whose sight sobered him up in an instant, caused Thrak’s grip on his spear to clench tight as ever muscle in his body screamed in alert fear. Only for him to immediately see a boy, half human and half dragon, staring up at him instead. He has to question if that was even real…

‘No. There’s something to it… Was that some kind of ability that the Dragneel’s developed? A Dragon’s Fear-like ability to make people submit? It wasn’t that strong…’ Thrak mentally mused as he shook off his initial shock. Reassessing what was scarfing down his employees food in front of him.

Thrak opened his mouth to speak while the pair locked eyes. “Okay, I think you’ve rampaged enough you little brat-” Thrak wasn’t done talking before Farnus turns his back to him, the old warrior’s eye twitches. What a brazen little sh!t, turning his back to an armed man like this. Even animals know better. Was he just arrogant or completely insane?

It couldn’t be arrogance. He doesn’t stink of it, the usual mannerisms weren’t there… The guy was more animal than man. So he was insane? He certainly lacked the magical abilities to take down a Gurgoth, and his souls are dull too… Almost to the point of looking lifeless. Despite that though… Even in his semi-retired state he hasn’t completely lost his edge. Thrak was watching Farnus for abit now, and despite having no apparent power to him, he couldn’t see an angle that would net him an instant win. He couldn’t imagine it. A killing blow…

‘Is this because of that damn flash seconds ago?’ The Lizardman’s muscles tensed. That had to be it. It’s been a long while and he’s just rusty, faked out by that flash of that fake dragon from earlier.

It was probably nothing.

Yeah…

He would honestly just be so done with this and just let the kid cause a little more havoc for food since clearly he needs it, he hardly cares about his job outside of drinking anymore anyways. But orders are orders, he has a Dragneel before him so he’s gotta be brought in for testing.

Tipping the Spear forward and twirling it into his hand before Thrak has aimed the bottom of the at Farnus, bringing his arm out to the side before his stops. “Okay kid, since you’re crazy I gotta knock you out. When you wake up you’ll be somewhere nice and warm.” All the muscles in Thrak’s right arm tense and swell with strength before swinging hard, trying to bring the hard black metal against his side to wind the kid so he can easily hit him again, this time in the back of the head once he’s reeling for air, to knock him out.

Synnadine wrote:

Back in Lee's apartment a certain witch, hiding her true identity, lays well and truly unconscious in the guest room she was given. As mentioned in prior posts, before laying down for rest she had searched the place top to bottom in the best capacity possible without tearing the place apart. Otherwise evidence of her search could be found. Alas she could find nothing: No cameras watching her, no wiretaps listening to her, no concealed magic circles of any sort, not even hidden explosives or weapons waiting for her to drop her guard in an effort to snuff out her life. However in doing so she did set off a few silent alarms, unbeknownst to herself, which Lee was alerted of while he was working...though he expected such an event and elected to ignore it at the time.

Deciding the place was at least safe enough for her to rest she did, within the bed and room provided to her. Yet this was no normal rest for the once powerful and proud witch, oh no, it has been a long time since she was able to sleep so soundly. A proper bed in an enclosed, sheltered space was something she took for granted before being halfway forced to sleep on the streets. Virtually unaware of the passage of time she stayed well and truly asleep until her body forces itself awake in reflex to the sound of someone entering the apartment, a negligible sound in the face of East Vedran's restless cityscape, but not to one who has lived the kind of life Celecia Willow has. Even more so, not in the wake of recent events. Acting on impulse alone she throws herself out of bed towards the door, sheets flung to the opposite side, making quite the ruckus as she plants herself on the ground and rips the door open, intent on the instinctual belief that someone is here to kill her. Freshly awake from such a deep sleep, no other thoughts even come to her mind as she already has a hand raised prepared to cast who knows what manner of spell at her would be assailant- That is, until she sees and processes Lee, in the split second before actually channeling magic for who knows what purpose. Her eyes and expression settle and relax to that of neutrality, or no...this is definitely the look of disinterest. Waking up in such a way only to be left with this kind of end result took a lot of wind out of her sails, that much is very clear, but before this disinterest her eyes were ripe with desperation, fear, hatred and a myriad of similar emotions...including the unmistakable glint of a killers eye, for just one instant.

She lowers her hand as her expression completely shifts and looks around as her mind clears, practically factory resetting itself to remember what's going on and where she is Oh- She looks down to her garments, which she had thrown thoughtless into the hall and now lay bare on the floor near her feet. I fell asleep...this is his place. With her would be casting hand now down at her side and looks at it front and back, as if examining it. If I had followed through that inquisitor probably would've tracked my magic...if he's even alive. Or maybe Maria... Clenching her fist for a moment before relaxing it again she looks back to Lee and whatever reaction he is having to this, and the very real fact that he was probably a split second away from being nuked by magic, before she begrudgingly decides to say at least...something. Halfway for her own benefit, for her to sleep like she did and wake up like that, there's a burning question she needs to know. "...how long has it been? I fell asleep...I don't see a clock."

The silent warning on his wrist of movement gave Lee the time to process his surprise and pull his mind back from the case, and back to the G-Class threat that he can now hear barreling through the guest room. When Willow bursts through the door she sees him turned halfway towards her, halfway through reholstering his handcannon. The look she sees in his eyes is a curious one. There is a wariness, yes, but not fear. She is well aware that he knows through his threat assessing machine somewhere on him exactly how much of a disparity there is between them. How easily this wave of the hand can kill him. However, he seems more concerned about her casting anything. What it could mean for the city if the Inquisitor or a BILEE caught wind of her. Though when Willow realizes who he is and lowers her hand, she can see subtle relief from his posture. He goes back to digging through one of the kitchen's cabinets as she asks for the time, retrieving a bottle of whiskey. He checks his wrist comm before answering. "A little after three in the morning. If you went to bed after I left, should be nine hours." Lee puts the bottle on the counter and finds himself a glass. From the fridge some ice clicks into his glass before he puts it on the counter too, about to pour in the whiskey. "Sleep well?"