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River Saetyrix

An extremely laid back Incubus with the wit of a sarcastic feline.

0 · 683 views · located in The Garden

a character in “The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard”, as played by duramon

Description

[Personal Detail]
Name: River Saetyrix
Nickname: Styx
Age: 800
Species: Fellan Incubus
Place of Birth: Blackthorn City
Relationship Status: Single
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Education: Home-schooled, Street Smarts


Personality:
River is an extremely laid back and kind individual, the latter a fact he hides behind a lazy and indifferent attitude towards everything aside from fighting, which he enjoys to no end, or so it seems. He goes out of his way to help individuals of any persuasion, be it animal or human, robot or living organism and usually passes off any form of reward with a passing wave. He is extremely sarcastic and even some-what rude or mean to those who seem to know him and those that rely on him which are few in number, as despite his flirty manner River is a relatively solitary person, reliant on only himself and content to live alone.

As all Incubus are, River is an incredible flirt and he's good at what he does. Seducing and flustering various beings of the opposite sex with his charms and gentle calming hand, a gift given to him by his father through genetics. A secondary gift to compliment the first was given to him by his mother, A Fellan or Half-animal being, that being an enhanced sense of nearly everything to the point where he has begun to train himself to read the mood and thoughts of others by their body's reactions and smell. The down-side of course being the red cat ears he hides flattened in his hair and the tail that he keeps in check beneath his jeans.

Instilled within him from birth is the absolute need to manipulate and seduce others to survive, a fact he is far too aware of in his current state, however he avoids it whenever possible and prefers to keep an even tempered and calm approach to all situations before beginning to head towards manipulation. Flirting however, is something he enjoys far too much to pass on.


Appearance:
Image

River stands at 5"8ft tall and has wild spiky red hair, several strands constantly hanging over his brow and his amber gold eyes. Attached to his neck is a red jewel-like choker, placed just above lengths of red and black striped cord that meet together in a snow-flake shaped symbol around his chest, before trailing off into two sealed ends. He is seen constantly wearing either a black or white V neck short sleeved shirt below an again either black or white jacket with matching fur-lining. The jacket is on his person no matter the weather and seems to hold some special meaning to him, whether its around his shoulders or simply carried in one of his hands as he travels.

His Lower-half is adorned with a pair of simple jeans kept to his waist by a black belt, a length of silver chain attached to his pocket, his shoes are classic black leather boots and give his feet the perfect grip he requires. Hidden amongst his person are various charms and silver jewelry, one more noticeable is the thick bracelet about his left wrist. In tandom with the charms are dozens of invisible tribal tattoo's that are only visible when he utilizes his abilities that by their placement and perfect symmetry are important to some form of ritual or religion.

Kept equally hidden to his charms are the pair of red cat ears and the lengthy tail that he strategically styles his hair to keep free from public eyes, the tail spread down his pant leg comfortably to make it far less obvious. However once he begins to take his true form as an Incubus to his dismay not much can hide his sudden growing resemblance to felines, nor the vast shardic ice wings that tear through the skin on his back and the blue runic horns that pierce his fore-head. Whilst he prefers to appear human, the changes that occur once he takes his true form barely seem to faze him during a battle, which is when they luckily make themselves the most apparent.


Strengths:
1:Level-headed
2:Manipulative
3:Loyal to a fault
4:Survivalist

Weaknesses:
1:Self Sacrificial
2:Solitary
3:Puppies
4:Fish

Likes:
1:Cute things
2:Animals
3:Combat
4:Cigarettes
5:Flirting

Dislikes:
1:His true form
2:Whiners and weaklings
3:Those who pretend to know him
4:Followers
5:Fish (Too many Instincts...reduces him to a mindless Kitten.)
Spoken Languages: Cat, English, Spanish, French, Basic Veerynian, Nordic, Druidic.
Theme Song: I will not bow (Contains Bleach Spoilers)


[Combat Section]
Powers: River possesses two sets of powers, one inherited from his parents and another learnt and studied constantly. The first being his Incubus nature, his nature gives him a set of Virus and Siphoning Based Magical Abilities, from a simple draining touch or kiss, to a moveable purple energy that drains he himself of life-force. The latter being extremely risky and difficult to use at his current level.

His second set of abilities is still magic based, and some-what relates to his Incubus status, he has magical control over Ice, that isn't to say he can summon it or anything of the like, to be more precise its control over water and the like. A magical skill which he has focused on the manipulation and creation of ice as he studied. Without water in the air or a source of water nearby its nearly impossible for him to utilize this ability, without drawing water out of the body of himself or a person nearby, a procedure which is risky and unpracticed at absolute best.

Technology: Technology wise he holds no great advantage, simply owning a touch phone and a music device he keeps on his person at all times.

Skills:
River has an uncanny tactical and leading mind, despite his lack of wish for the role he has a habit of leading small groups and gangs regardless of his laziness or constant rejection of the notion.
-Unnatural Manipulation and Persuasion
-Basic knowledge of Demon Lore and Garden secrets, despite living far from it.


[Back-story]
Father: Krasis Saetyrix
Mother: Nihlene Saetyrix
Connections and Affiliations: The Garden, Vee-Ryn.
History prior to The Garden:
River has lived out a large portion of his life in a torn apart city called Blackthorn, floating through space on a small chunk of what was left of a planet. Shielded and home-schooled by his parents until the day he turned 200, a long time to be kept hidden from the world. However they were right to do so, as immediately upon leaving his hidden home he joined various small gangs, fighters in the war against the City ruling Crime Syndicate, that is until the day he joined them. Simply fighting for the sake of fighting, helping those in need and getting in the way of his own Syndicates men to keep people safe. He was still hated and feared of course, but he had a philosophy "Fight the power, if you can't fight the power, become the power." and so he had done just that at the time.

Life changed as it does however and at such a young age, once his parents had left him to his own devices, disturbed and disgusted by his choice of actions after there teachings. He discovered The Garden, and inherently the Vee-Ryn family. Discovering a demon girl by the name of Kaula and finding her to be decent company as he became used to his new surroundings and the strange massive world, however it was to be short-lived, as after a mere 20 years he dissipated back to his own world to create havoc and attempt to fix it to be more like The Garden.

However this was not received well by The Syndicates leader, who banished him from the city, and in a city that spans the entire land-mass of your world aside from radioactive wastelands. To be banished was to die a slow and painful death, probably at the hands of the rebels who he had so often stopped from getting a leg up on his organization. However he managed to survive, if not barely, horribly sucking the life force out of those who barely managed to live as it was, coercing his way into bases, homes, hovels and camps alike just to scrape by, even as his ex-syndicate hunted him down. His "Friends" not hesitating to tear out his heart or burn him to pieces.

To him, his life was becoming barely worth living, and yet live he did, for the sake of all the lives he'd snuffed out prior for that exact purpose. Their souls resting on his shoulders and within his Black Incubus heart.

So begins...

River Saetyrix's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn
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#, as written by Zalgo
Pravus was striding towards the machine that was tearing through their ranks but before he could put his battle plan into action it seemed the apparent leader of this group he was fighting for took the fight into his own hands, quite literally given the weapons. The clashes of the two were sending out powerful blasts which were mutilating the battlefield around them as a result of their conflict. After hits were traded the leader of the forces he fought for this day broke the construct, revealing it's host to be a small slug like creature. The two parted their ways and that was that. No more construct for him to fight.

He looked around at the current situation, evaluating the numbers and strengths of each side in order to determine where he was needed most. Much of the nameless forces were either killed or gravely injured in the chaos of war but the shadow warriors were faring worse than his forces were. Given the current trend in ratio of deaths to kills he estimated that his side would win if they simply kept at the pace they were killing at currently.

What he didn't factor in was the sudden use of magic by one of the remaining lieutenants. The remaining numbers of the husks were enhanced while many of the slain forces rose from the dead to fight once again. The lieutenants proceeded to take to the safety of the golem and watch the battle unfold from above. He wondered why they didn't just start the battle that way, casting from a literal walking fortress while the foot soldiers chopped away at his numbers.

This tactic was not one Pravus was unfamiliar with. In many battles his legion had with necromancers they would throw their disposable minions at his fellow men and resurrect all who die in the battle, giving the necromancer an edge with each death regardless of who dies.

This current tactic did change the dynamic of the battle however. His forces deaths to kills ratio would climb higher given the enemies bolstered numbers. He did wonder about his enemies using divine magic like a necromancer would use their magic but that was a question to be contemplated later, not in the heat of combat.

Pravus felt it would be needed to fight more conservatively since every loss counted a lot more with the current number of enemy shadow warriors being what they were. He spied out in the thick of combat the incubus from earlier being healed by a healer of some sort way too far out into the enemies space. Most of the healers did their healing from behind the lines so the fact one had gone out and put both herself and the victim at risk was simply irresponsible. He was not here to judge though, he was fighting to survive so that he may bury the dead who lost their lives in this battle before moving on.

He trudged on over toward the two. A shadow warrior with the enhanced weapon and armor stepped in front of him for whatever reason was going through it's head. It attacked with a wild overhead swing but he blocked the strike with the middle of his shovel before shoving the attacker almost literally off his feet. He didn't need to defeat their armor in order to defeat them. He just needed to disable them until the defensive line pushed them back up to where he was. From there the answer's simple. Killing more equals better.

Before he arrived at the incubus's location a construct from his own side came forth, using it's elemental abilities to shape metal into an effective weapon, driving off oncoming shadows. It killed many before exhausting itself, something Pravus had as an advantage over it in such regards. After the metal man collapsed from exertion he stepped in to fill in as a defense.

Standing at firm attention in front of the three he fought the shadow warriors away from them, parrying swords and other various weapons with his shovel while striking back with strong thrusts capable of piercing through their flesh and bones in order to help keep a distance between them. Though they came, their weapons strong and their urge to kill stronger he countered ferocity and magic supplementation with skill and tireless strength, weakened as a result of the damage from his battle with the wretched plague beast but still strong enough to kill his enemies, buffs and all.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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Qwerty, aka Experiment 'Sludgepile', was having bitter-sweet feelings about today. Considering the recent events that transpired since he, though technically he was an it, having been transported here shortly after his latest success story in the murdering business, it was definitely the strangest day he had. This was a rather impressive feat, due to him being a sentient human-shaped pile of organic sludge wearing sweatpants and clasping on a pair steel pipes as clubs. Having gone through from a sudden series of rapidly changing events, Qwerty had ended up in the thick of a grand battle, perhaps even large enough to be a small war of sorts, and was loving every minute of it. However he was immensely infuriated when he was met with the sight of various husks being resurrected from the dead, while others that were already among the living were bolstered in strength, snarling in rage and frustration at the shadowy underlings, especially those that fell by his own hand earlier.

"You got to be f***ing joking! Do you b***ards have any idea how hard it was to murder that many of them? Sure it was a right laugh, especially the fella whose head I squashed by bashing the two pipes together, but they did tons of slashes and smashes and other injuries beginning with S's on me!? Granted some of them have healed up now, that's the case with this weird healing factor junk I got, but one of them tried to chop my head off! The c**t! If there dead, leave em dead, ain't fair otherwise you cheating cowards!", Qwerty babbled furiously, having indicated to various wounds that adorned his sludgy body, including a clean stab wound through his side, a missing toe, and the previously mentioned incriminating attempt of cleaving around half way along his long snake-like neck. It was obvious he was hampered by the numerous wounds on his body, his already cumbersome speed impeded as well as his advantageous strength, and though his wounds were still healing, it was occurring at a snails pace. He wasn't ready for being in the thick of it and he begrudgingly knew it.

As the husk hoard approached, Qwerty made the shaming decision to retreat, an action he never was comfortable with, but saw it necessary as he began lumbering towards the defensive line, grumbling under his breath as the shadowy underlings were figuratively and occasionally literally nipping at his heels. He hastily battered back a few husks that got too close, desperately pushing them back with his great steel pipes he wielded as clubs, as well as spitting clumps of acidic slime, as well as adhesive slime, in an attempt to slow their numbers, still scrambling towards The Nameless and fellow competitors striving to survive.
"This just ain't f***ing fair I tell ya! reviving the dead while im heavily injured is just a wimpy loser way of a come back!" Qwerty raged to no one in particular, now at half-way to what appeared to be an iron fence that wasn't there earlier, with all sorts of combatants fighting nearby.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Spindel Peridot
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#, as written by duramon
The beginning of the end, the end of the beginning.


It was with a bang, and not a whimper, that a new being arrived to the field of battle. His stitched and scraggly top hat perching perfectly atop his head and a mask that hid his features jolting slightly as he thumped into the ground just ahead of The Nameless defensive line gracefully. His limbs not reacting to the fall he had partaken of from the outer edges of this material plane as he strode forward with the tapping of a cane held loosely in one gloved hand, it was mere moments after he landed that the entire ground upon his landing point was eviscerated along with the husks that had arrived. A cavernous hole created and flooding with the sands slowly as he proceeded to walk towards the main combat and its participants, a husk with glowing blade leaped towards him, and was swiftly met with an elbow to the jaw that surely would have sent the creature flying. Had there been any creature left to move, however instead the man lowered his elbow and continued walking with the world perpetually slowed around him.

He eventually arrived at his destination and removed his top hat and mask, propping them upon his cane which he lodged into the ground at the centre of the battlefield. However despite his entirely uncovered features no matter what way you looked at him, it was obvious he had a face and head, features like any other being, yet none could be seen and nothing was truly visible. Not even an out-line of hair, and yet it was certain he was not bald, his teeth and glowing red eyes were visible however, both horrifyingly sharp and equally able to rend flesh from bone. However it was with presentation of these teeth in an impossible grin as he removed and began the placement of these objects which began the beginning of the end, a strange dark aura manifesting in reality behind him, he kicked the cane up from the ground and allowed it to fly carelessly into the battlefield with his personal affects, and began his work.


Image


He first launched himself into the nearest armoured husk, leaping into the air and slamming a knee into its skull, a hand reaching behind it to grasp its ally to use its own head as a pivotal point, a point he used to spin his body in a hurricane of kicks that crashed through husks and sent waves of wind that tore through rows of their brethren beyond the initial point. Upon landing he flashed far across the battle field and planted his footing solidly upon the sands, an open palm and rigid fingers meeting a husks spine as the momentum of his travel passed into it with full force, along with several thousand volts of electricity that chained across the immediate area, his eyes met a group fleeing to the back line, a monkey woman receiving the full penetrating gaze he laid upon the collective group.

He continued to flash all across the battlefield, elbows, knees, fists and palms colliding with husks at a rapid pace in dozens of fighting styles. Each impact shaking the entire battlefield or passing some form of power along through the enemy lines until eventually mere seconds after his arrival half of the enemies remaining forces had been wiped out, he finished off one more blessed husk with a flipping kick that left him sailing through the air in the opposite direction to its skull. It was with a light thump then that his top hat returned to his head and the mask landed perfectly in his coat pocket, the cane spinning and landing in his out-stretched hand as he floated above the remaining fighters.

With a graceful spin he landed upon the ground and brought two hands together, a clap ringing out that silenced all other noise as the man, or perhaps the creature ,placed its hands swiftly upon the ground, a dark energy flowing through its finger tips for a moment before it stood. Corrected its top hat and its tie and deftly stepped out of the way of a fountain of blood to its left, one that was simultaneous across the battlefield as the remaining army erupted into a fountain of gore and destroyed armour. An eruption that was followed by a shock-wave of shaking earth and immensely strong wind that threatened to blow away those who were uncharacteristically weak. The silence that had flooded the battlefield finally lifting with a roar of noise.

It was with this final hurrah that the man dissipated entirely, a piece of parchment floating down to a certain marble skinned Incubus bait within the field, containing a name of an inn, and the blood enscribed symbol that almost whispered its own name "Apocalys". In the distance atop the hill which all this had begun, the retreating head of a temple like Golem could be seen, the Grasslands clear of all its hostile life.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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#, as written by duramon
Rest arrives in The Nameless abode, and gratitude arrives in the form of breakfast interrogation


There was no rest for the wicked, and so the good could not rest either, or at least that was the way he looked at it. Without pause Aizen dashed across the battlefield, a tapestry stretching from his original point and reaching the rabbit woman who lay mostly healed next to the corpse of her savior, an alien woman whom had healed her amongst the midst of battle. With a delicate sigh he slid her eyes shut with an out-stretched hand and slammed the tapestry's wooden end into the ground beside The Black Rabbit, picking up her broken form in gentle hands and lightly nudging the tapestry with one elbow. It had been expensive to purchase, but it would seem worth it as the battlefield began to glow, the remaining people and the defended innocents vanishing under the glow of a large arcane rune. The recruits taken with them for the ride as the large group stood in a rather extravagant mansion, or at least one that used to be extravagant, at the current moment it looked more worse for wear.

With a light huff he lifted a hand in the air and with a slam and click the mansion shut down, the windows closed and the doors shut and an arcane buzz ran through out the floor boards. They would be safe for now, or at least he hoped they would, a few of the younger nameless squeaked or sobbed after the ordeal and he took a moment to go around with the older members to re-assure them and comfort those whom had lost family or close friends in the battle. Eventually returning to his place as everyone but himself vacated to various parts of the mansion, ushering along children and teenagers with encouraging words even as they wiped the blood off of themselves, they had been through this ordeal before and it would not be the last time.

With his final reassuring smile given out, an angered frown hung across his face. His blonde hair grew out slightly and a beard pushed through his jowls to surround his mouth, a smokey grey colour that now matched his hair, he crossed his arms across his chest and stared down the group of recruits whom had stayed behind to assist for one reason or another. "You all stayed behind for a reason, but you're not out of the woods yet, I've got people to protect and I expect you to explain yourselves. The same offer from the recruitment stands, but only for those who are useful for more then just hitting, their is no room for cannons in a game of survival and I need people who can do more then just fight, people who have the right morals." He quickly affirmed, with a grunt and half a growl as he picked at a piece of rib that had pierced through his torso.

"Temporary lodgings are up the stairs and to the left, you each get a room to share with a person of your choice, choose wisely. Tomorrow morning once we've made sure we are under no further threat I will come to your rooms and each pair will individually explain their reasoning and justify why I should trust them with my people and to represent them in further guild games. If you make the cut I'll De-brief you and bring you up to speed on everything that's going on, and what exactly this world is, if you don't its the same deal as the recruitment. You go home. A certain red headed demon is resting in the farthest room facing the front of the building, those who require healing will find their lodgings sufficiently enhanced by magic for their particular needs." He said, turning without another word for a moment and heading between a gap that had created itself in the wooden stairs, stairs that now split into two pathways one to each side of the upper levels, as the gap closed and the stairs re-formed he gave the recruits a kind smile and half-whispered "Thank you, all of you." before the gap closed and he was lost within the walls of the stairs, unbeknownst to them immediately taking his place by the bed-side of a particular rabbit-eared woman, his fingers templed at a peak in front of his face, resting on an unstable thumping leg as he began his vigil by her side.

The recruits and any others that had been pulled along were left alone to decide their partners for lodging, the candelabra's lining the walls fluttering out as the flames died low and eventually extinguished to leave the mansion in darkness, after all the fluster and teleportation the mansion would have simply looked worn and empty and the darkness would serve to keep this true for the new comers to its fold, it was with a rush of wind that the upper west levels of the mansion lit up, a singular candle waiting on a table by the door of each lodging.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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It took him a moment to realize the woman wasn't going to respond, panicked as she was, possibly even in shock, He could feel the foul beasts weapons moving towards his wall of spiked death, the metal still red hot, it wouldn't cool for some time. It flared in heat with every breath he took, the cherry glow lighting up on his inhale and ebbing when he breathed out.

“That's not normal.” He said. He could feel it. This wall, these thorns, this garden of red hot death, it was his, he could feel it in his bones, like an extension of his own arm he could feel it. It made him sick, corpses impaled on the ends were being cooked gradually, others already having caught fire, even still, their allies impaled on what passed for his fortress, the empowered dead marched on them.

“Some fool is out there...” He mouthed the words, a laugh almost spilling from his mouth as he said it. They must've been on the way to rescue these two. He thought, a grin splitting his face in that moment, “Too slow~” He said, his voice a singsong tone, the day was weighing on him, he could tell. The cacophony in his head had died down to a low rumble, but he could tell, if he needed more, he could call it forth. The repercussions for him however, would likely be bad.

He could feel their weapon as it swung, couldn't see it, didn't bother trying. They would be pushed back soon. The stranger that is. Into the burning phalanx. In his mind their was no point in seeing a dead man. He would find it ironic in years to come, just how literal those words were.

Just as he was ready to write them off as dead, a reasonable sacrifice in his opinion. One life for three others was a logical exchange, cheating death in a mathematical sense, the stranger burst through a gap in the wall. Insanity! His mind yelled, who would leap between a pair of forge hot, razor sharp spikes!?

Wayland lurched to his feet as shadows slammed against his barricade. A deep rumble echoing from his throat, the noise in his head completely silent. He was waiting again, calm like a bomb, just waiting to explode.

He called to the steel around them, he couldn't make more like he would have preferred. He could move it however. Making the area nearest the newcomer and himself thinner, less the burning phalanx, and more the smoldering fence. Why can't people stay as reasonable sacrifices, and not endanger my life? He joked internally

He used the excess to enshroud the wounded man and the woman with him in a metal dome resembling the closed bud of a flower. He reinforced it to the best of his ability, drawing the heat out as not to cook them, that done he turned his mind back to the battle.

Wayland was spent. Wayland was content, content to let this man fight as he watched, using the tiny power he had left to keep the wall up, and that was it. Well, if they do get in here, I can always retreat inside the flower. He thought, patting the surface of the now cooled construct proudly. I've done enough fighting for one day.

It wasn't much later, as he could feel the wall around them ready to collapse that he was preparing to retreat to secondary defensive position B, codenamed the flower in his head. It was actually only named, and codenamed in his head, but that was irrelevant. He'd admit the guy was a decent fighter. He could see that in his shovel, see part of the mans history in it, but that was irrelevant also. Not his past, and he never intended to fight using a shovel.

Anyway, his mind was wandering. He was slipping, so damned tired, he blinked, and stumbled forth in shock, he'd slumped against the flower asleep, in the middle of a battlefield. He couldn't see the shovel guy anywhere, so, either he was dead, or judging by the number of bodies, and the lack of sound across the field the battle was over, and he had slept through the end of it.

He shrugged, leaning back against the flower. Waiting for enough juice to return for him to let the people within out, when a glow ran across the ground beneath him, lighting up in some arcane language he'd never seen before. “That's not-” His words cutting off mid-sentence as he was once again forcibly teleported across space to a new location. “-normal.”

He'd found himself in an unfamiliar setting. The room, presumably even the whole house, once beautiful was now in a terrible state of disrepair. Cracks ran through the walls from the foundation settling, places where the ornately carved wood paneling should have been gilt in gold, silver, or other precious metals were bare, most likely torn loose to keep the obviously hard hit guild fed. He could understand that, what does it matter if you have the most beautiful home, if you yourself were starving to death in it?

He was too tired to flinch when the house locked down, seemingly by magic, too tired to question the fact that a few hours ago, he had though he was unique. Too damn tired to be lectured by the very people/person that had had them dragged into the conflict in the first place.

“Bullshit.” Wayland spat as the old man had his say, and wandered off to god knows where. He made his way up the stairs, ignoring the still slight smoldering of his clothes, barely acknowledging anyone around him. He didn't even notice the lack of smoke from his mouth, or the odd chill in his body.

He nodded at the few people he recognized, from the battle and ignored those he didn't. His eyes lingered for a fraction of a second longer than he would normally consider decent on a certain silver haired woman, following her every move, igniting something primal in him. He found himself thinking about that as he shook off the alien feeling in his head, telling him to take her.

Between voices, hammers, and beautiful women. It was a wonder he was coherent at all. Those were Wayland's last thoughts before he crashed in the first empty room he came across.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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Ivan smirked slightly when a large blob yelled through the room. "I don't think we could have had a better example of a cannon. Loud, destructive and not usefull for much else than voilence." He thought as he walked up the stairs and to the left. If at all possible he didn't want to get stuck with the blob in a room, he'd rather not be bludgeoned with pipes during the night by an overly voilent blob.

"Compared to that blob I'd rather take my chances with a demon. Red headed demon, hmm, could the demon be the one who trew down those ice spikes in the fight earlier?" He thought as he made his way throught the candle lit hall, it was bright enough to see where walls ended and doors began and you could see the cracks and patches of missing plaster. With a slight tension, enhanced by the dim lighting, he found the room where the demon would be. Ivan knocked on the doorpost before entering. Inside he could see the mentioned demon, he seemed asleep. "Probably best if I just let him be and get myself ready to hit the hay myself. He thought as he placed the mace against the wall in the corner.

The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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#, as written by duramon
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The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland

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Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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#, as written by duramon
River had been having quite the experience, a blade was sticking out of his rib cage, a horrid curved thing that ended in a furred paw. He had always loved that blade, and its wielder, but they both knew it would come to this, they always had. The scene felt familiar, tears streaking down both of their cheek's in silence that brought with it an unspoken conversation, one that always ended the same. With an apology on the tip of both their tongues, it was at the point that he might actually voice his sorrow that he was jolted awake.

His golden eyes were imprisoned by weakness, unable to open his eyes as something worked its way into his system, no his soul, from the room. The sound of a knock came and another entered the room, what room exactly was unknown to him only that it had a functioning door and a soft bed, had he been any less frantic he would have simply allowed the inflation of his soul and fallen into slumber once more. However he had seen the dream too many times, and it was not in his nature to simply accept his surroundings.

It was with the clang of metal against the far wall that he finally jolted himself up from his position, his eyes forcing themselves open as he raised a weak arm. He would not be caught off guard, he had trained himself against that, he would not risk that in the wastelands! The arm pointed itself towards the intruder and it was with great exertion and opening of several wounds that from his bulging veins a frost began to grow quite quickly. The frost eventually gathering towards his fist and launching forward in the form of a large arm spike that halted around a foot before his intruders torso.

The Incubus sat there, huffing with sweat pouring down his body as his blurred vision attempted to make out the form of his intruder. "Who are you?!, Where is this and what do you want!?" He demanded with a slight growl.

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Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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Ivan turned his eyes away from the mace and towards the room, only to see the demon now awake and aggressive. The demon launched an ice spike at him, stopping close to his torso. If it hadn't he probably wouldn't have been able to deal with it in time, though the healing magic would probably have done enough to keep him alive.

"Who are you?!, Where is this and what do you want!?" The demon growled at him. He seemed to be in quite a bad shape, with what seemed several re-opened wounds on his arm. As he slowly stepped away from the piercing front end of the ice spike he said: "My name is Ivan Witherbane. We are in what I believe to be the home of the nameless. Together with all others who stayed after the recruitment game at the labyrinth, and survived the battle, we have been given temporary lodging by whom appears to be the leader of the nameless." His words were slow and he spoke with a nervous tone, his heart was still racing after the sudden and unexpected attack from the demon.

He slowly sat down on the other bed in the room and took a deep breath. "Tomorrow morning, the leader of the nameless will pay each room a visit. He wants answers why we stayed when we were told to evacuate, and why he should trust you with his people and with their name. If you pass that... Test, he'll bring us up to speed on the situation." Ivan said with a more calmed down tone of voice. "Oh, and two more important things. It seems they want people that are more than just fighters, they seem to want people with a good moral compass. The other thing is... This room is enhanced with healing magic, so you might want to lay down and let it heal those wounds... And maybe about what you have to offer to the nameless beyond fighting." He said while looking at the wounds on the demons arm.

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Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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#, as written by duramon
River relaxed at the mans words slightly, growling to himself as the situation was explained and eventually accepting the mans argument of healing as logical. Unfortunately, as it was made obvious when the spike eventually retreated into the demons veins, The Incubus did not entirely care for logic, instead opting for instinct and stubbornness. With a great deal of groaning and sweat, the Incubus managed to heft himself over the side of the bed and into a crouching position, taking a deep breath and using the nearby bed to eventually pull himself up right. Although the amount he swayed would be rather unconvincing in comparison to his next words.

" Thanks for the tip and pleasure to meet you Ivan, but I've got a few people to check up on myself...If I'm not back in 10 minutes...just wait longer." He joked, hobbling across the room using the wall as support as he found his way to the door, he paused for a moment and turned to the mage with a smirk that was accompanied by a small dribble of blood and a cough " Speaking of, you seen a demon princess and a marble goddess around the place? I've lost mine." He again joked as a cut hand began to apply its bloody touch on the door-knob. It was obvious he wasn't going to make it far, and the fact that his limp hand and blurry vision were enough that the most he could manage with the simple turning knob was slick it with blood was more then enough evidence of this.

Still he persisted after his question had been asked and eventually managed to fumble the mechanism open, bracing his shoulder against it and using his swaying body weight to eventually push it open he stood at the boundary of the room and the hallway and gave the mage a now bloody toothed grin that was half mixed in with a look of utter agony "Well?" He inquired.

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Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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Ivan watched as the demon stumbled and bled, well mostly just bled, his way to the door. The demons joking attitude about his situation struck Ivan the wrong way, and not in a minor way. As the demon struggled open the door Ivan got up and walked to the demon, who had managed to open the door and trow the most broken smile he had ever seen his way with Ivan just out of arms reach.

"I don't know how much of these last few hours you still remember, but I can't let you kill yourself." He said as he grabbed the demons arm with one hand and placed the index and middle finger of his other hand of the temple of the demon. "A few hours ago people died in that battle, as in their corpses are rotting on that field as we speak. Their family and friends are just a few rooms away from here, mourning. You lived, so have a bit of damn respect for those who died and their family, and keep your ass alive." He said as his dead serious stare met and pierced the demons eyes. He pulled on the demons arm, making sure he didn't try to move away from him.

"You have two choices. One, you get back in here, quitely, and take a nap on your bed untill the healing magic cures your bleeding out of everywhere-itis. Or...Two..." He said as he pressed harder on the demons temple, ready to administer a small nerve overloading shock on the slightest hint of resistance. "...You move out of the room, I wreck you limb motorics with an electric shock, dump you on your bed and make sure you can't move as much as a finger untill morning. Your choice, but keep in mind that whoever it is you seek will be here, at least untill morning. The whole place is locked shut, nothing comes in, nothing goes out." Ivan hissed at the demon, only returning to his calm tone of voice in the last sentence. Many had trown their lives away on that battlefield, sacrificing their own lives for the lives of others. Yet now one of those they died for showed such a deep disrespect for what had been given up for him, by trying to kill himself unneeded and even daring to joke about it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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Ivan felt the demon shift his center of gravity as he had to exert force to keep a hold on the demons arm. Was he falling over, maybe he was trying to break free. It didn't matter, as Ivan almost in a reflex unleashed the electricity he had prepped to paralyse the demon. The demon spasmed and then fell back onto Ivan. As he dragged the demon onto his bed the resistanceless limbs hang like boiled spaghetti on a fork, his feet dragging along the ground and his arms sweeping around as he shifted balance. As he looked down onto the demon as it lay on the bed he took of his white cloak. While most of his clothing was still bloodfree, albeit dirty from the battle, the cloak was stained by large red bloodstains. He dropped trew the cloak to the corner where the mace stood and walked to the door. "If you haven't fainted from the pain and bloodloss, take this time to think about what I mentioned while the enchantment does it's magic." He said calm as he stepped outside and closed the door.

It wouldn't be a bad idea to make some small talk and get to know some of the others, afterall chances where they'd have to get along with eachother. What he was going to say to the supposed leader was already set in stone, and that should secure his recruitment. He walked through the hallway and stopped when noticed the gravedigger, the monkey, the swordswoman and her acompanying ghost. They had fought together, but beyond that they hadn't talked. Not like there had been any time to talk, but still if anywhere this would be a good place to start. He also noticed an alibno woman that he could only discribe as being flawless, a rare sight, even for someone who had seen many mages with magically changed appearances.

He seemed to have walked in on something, however he had no idea what. Ivan heard the woman say: "No, it was all her." With a gesture to the swordwoman. Followed by her saying her name. Keres, as the albino woman identified herself, had a certain charm, one that tried to get a grip on Ivan, yet never really managing to latch on. It didn't take him long before noticing it, putting him in a more carefull position. But perhaps he was wrong, afterall there had been a few mages who had permanently been cursed with similar charms. Though it would probably not be the wisest idea to ask directly about it. When Keres smiled he deliberatly diverted his gaze from her. He looked over to the gravedigger who was leaning on his shovel, and by the looks of it not for fun. "You should probably take her words to heart and rest while the enchantment takes care of whatever is making you lean on that shovel." Ivan calmly said to the gravedigger.

The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden

Setting

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Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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#, as written by duramon
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The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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#, as written by duramon
Aizen awoke with a start beside the bed of his friend, the gorgeous rabbit eared woman still unconscious after the battle and draped in only a blanket that pressed tightly to her perfect form. However he did not notice these things, not the fake sun reflecting off of her cheeks, its warm glow caressing her lithe and attractive form, not the slight rosiness of her soft face or the messy morning after hair she'd gifted herself in her restless turning. All of this was lost on him as his hand stay entwined with hers, grabbing hold of her tightly as if letting go for even a second would mean she slipped away. He was startled when a woman came and tapped his shoulder, calling him to turn to her, it was Launa, one of the officers within his guild with raven black hair down to the back of her knee's and a Victorian style dress that fell loosely around her frame, apparently it was time to review the new recruits. He grunted but once and stood, giving himself a moment and allowing his lips to softly grace the rabbits fragile form upon the cheek, before turning away and walking from the room and out through another exit in the wall, his hand slowly losing its grip on the womans and leaving it to lay upon the bed gracefully as he appeared in a long hall-way lined by doors.

Aizen walked clapped his hands together and then gradually pulled them apart, straining from the action as if they were magnetized to one another as electricity danced between them, with a growl he slammed them together and then pressed his hands to his chest. An uncomfortable jolt dancing through his chest and into his heart as the magic spread through his system, he took a halting step forward, followed by another before he reached a nearby door, he took a deep breath as the hallway behind him was caked in illusion and knocked. A knock that was similar on every door across the hall as a dozen similar Aizens awoke the recruits, ready to lead them across the fake halls and into a similarly fake interview room in pairs or whatever grouping lay within the lodgings. All would be trailed at once and in the same place, they just wouldn't know it.

He sighed once more and after leading each group into the rooms sat down and asked his first question "Why did you stay?". The room was small but well decorated, a coffee table sitting between Aizen and the recruits, a comfortable and plush chair awaiting each person including Aizen himself and various paintings, counters, ornaments and other such things adorning the room, the room was as you would expect from your average well cared for mansion, decadent and perfect to a point. Upon the table was a hearty breakfast tailored to each person and a favored drink to match. To one with training to recognize patterns such as this and the manner Aizen presented himself to each particular pairing, it could be gleaned that he had either amazing analytical skills, or a mind reader at his disposal.

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Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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Morning finally came after a long night of being half asleep. Aware of every passing second, every inhalation and exhalation, yet unable to wake up fully or fall into a dream. Ivan's mind, unlike his body, hadn't been able to fully come to rest. Perhaps it was because of the battle, maybe due to Keres, or perhaps it was simply because he was sharing his room with a demon whom might attack him. He stood up and looked over to the demon in the other bed. As far as he could tell the healing magic had done it's job, as the demon seemed to be in a better shape than the evening before. He then looked over to the corner of the room, seeing the mace just like how he left it yesterday, it's corrupted green glow radiating through the room.

The knock on the door surprised him at first, causing his blurry eyes to shift into their sharp stare as normal. To his surprise the man didn't interview them right on the spot, as he had previously assumed. Instead they walked through the hallway to an interview room of sorts. The room was unlike the rest of the mansion he had seen before, as if they suddenly were in a whole other mansion. The room was well decorated, it felt rather warm and cozy, especially when compared to what he had seen of the building. The breakfast on the table didn't seem put together at random, there were some peculiar dishes on the table he had never seen outside of the college cafetaria. This would mean that at least part of this meal was tailored to him, and that in turn meant they had some knowledge about him he wasn't aware of or the ability to dig through his mind. Neither would bother him too much, more an annoyance than a problem, he wasn't particularly fond of others digging through his mind, even when he has nothing to hide.

Ivan sat down in one of the chairs as the man did the same and asked his first question: "Why did you stay?" Straight to the point, not wasting breath by beating around the bush. An attitude Ivan liked, especially when the subject become somewhat political. He glanced to the demon, and then back to the man. "The most prominent reason I stayed is because of an oath I took when I joined my college. 'In life and in death, a mage should never abandon those who need his help.' It is an oath you take knowing it will take your life sooner or later, just like everyone who took the oath before you." He said with calmness and determination radiating from his words.

"However I would lie if I said I didn't have any selfish reasons to stay. Currently in my homeland things are rather depressing. I live next to a city we had to flee from and seal with magic due to hordes of undead murdering everyone inside and threatening the whole land to fall into the hand of the liches. All of our efforts to combat the undead within the seal have only resulted in more dead, and even after three decades we haven't made any progress at all. The place feels hopeless and depressing. Here I feel some form of hope and I feel like I actually can help someone, for the first time in decades." He spoke with a similar calm as he picked up a stem with black union shaped flower buds the size of large grapes along the stem. He tore the flower buds off and ate them while he listened.

The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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#, as written by duramon
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The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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#, as written by duramon
River had followed behind the Nameless leader and plopped himself in the chair beside the mage. Whom he shot an angry glare, he growled low and picked up the platter before him, studying it and feeling the air of falsity about it and the rest of the room, he couldn't put his finger on it but things weren't...right. On the plate in his hand was a blob of purple-ish ectoplasm, an impossibility, something that broke the character of the Nameless to procure. It was a human soul....not simply one gained through a device or safe process, if such a thing existed in this backward plane. It was the soul of a tortured victim, the soul of one whom had lived a life of horror and sorrow abruptly ended...a soul only procurable by a despicable Incubus.

Yet it sat on a plate before River, he would not identify it to others nor would he even begin to explain to himself why they thought such a dish appropriate. He simply, ate. The leader asked him a question as he reclined in the chair, feeling the buzz of energy as the soul swam through his own, entwining with the many others that weighed upon his heart and spun around his body. The soul was not false, it was real, no false soul could give such a buzz, revitalize and engorge as this did. Most of his wounds had healed from the room, but what remained was immediately sealed shut and he was given a further boost in vitality, the boost was temporary but the buzz was like a drug to an Incubus. He resisted purring in pleasure as he replayed the last few moments in his mind, in his ecstasy he had missed the question.

"Why did you stay?" The leader had asked, the incubus leaned forward in his chair and gave a wide smile, turning on the charm as he placed his elbows on his knees and templed his fingers carefully. "It's simple...before your beam of light hit me, I was dead. A blade in my gut and a final curtain fallen over my body as a bled out on the sands of my world. I've been running for the past god knows how long from the criminal organization that controls my torn planet. What little remained of it after the incident that is." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and looking Aizen in the eye.

"Hunters followed my every move, and I was running through wastelands filled with deadly creatures, renegades and constant storms...I killed people, a lot of innocent people. I needed them to stay alive..if you spilled out my soul, you'd find dozens more entwined in it's ethereal path, I'm an Incubus so to survive I feed on other peoples very spirits. I didn't just kill people, I cut off their afterlife...you ask why I stayed? I stayed because if there's any chance that their souls can be saved, any chance that I can keep going and not waste lives, I'll take it. I stayed because I refused to let someone I knew die again, because you have children here....children who remind me of those that were ruined by my hand." He said softly, eventually finishing with his eyes to the floor. All of it was true, but the full reality was more hidden than that, more disturbing still.

Aizen's eyes scanned each recruit, listened to their stories all with a stoic face and tense body. It was time to test their mettle, he was going to exert more pressure upon them. He would catalog and address each of their stories later, it would decide their ranking, their positions, what games they participated in. Background and choice, reason and thought, these things were more important than strength or skill in a guild game. However, the interview wasn't about answers or truths, it wasn't about reality or the games. It was about deciding who he could trust with his guild, whom could survive under pressure and uncontrollable situations, which ones would be able to handle a sudden change with more than just instinct...which ones were truly strong.

He stood up after each had spoken respectively, after each had reacted and crossed his arms behind his back. He evened his eyes at each member respectively and clicked his tongue, a word from one of them had clicked in his mind and he found himself focused upon it. The girl Aera and her spirit Myon spoke of the darkness in this place, he would smile at the notion had he no intent to break their spirit. However this was not the case, and so he simply took the word and warped it for his own speech.

"The darkness will claim this place, and the rest of the Garden. We barely make it by as it is and soon the demon lords will stop bickering and mass together. It's a matter of time before the Garden is overwhelmed and used as stepping stone for the rest of existence...what we need are capable fighters, those strong of mind and body, those with good morals. We need to be able to rise from the bottom, gain allies and defeat corrupted guilds until the Garden can stand on her own two feet and push back the demon lords." He states, taking a step towards the recruits, phasing into the middle of the table separating them "I know all about you, everything you know, I know. Keep this in mind for the rest of the interview and pay attention....this is the only advice I will give you aside from to remember, this is not a fight, you are not simply weapons." He says softly, stepping back to his chair and taking a seat once more, his eyes flitting to meet Keres' for a moment.

"Live." He says once, the room folding away to reveal a large abyss. Aizen sits in his chair a great distance away, and the recruits are now standing upon a stone platform. Around them is utter darkness and nothingness, beyond the large stone platform and Aizen's far off platform there is nothing. From the shadows below several figures emerge, clambering up to the platform and standing around each pair. The interview would indeed discover their intentions and whether they were worthy.

Could they think for themselves, would they ask questions, would they simply give up? If none of them could figure out the mental component of such a basic challenge then he would be quite dissapointed. However there was no better way to expose a cannon than to put a foe between them and supposed victory.

Each shadow was configured to act, react and even speak according to the pairs, not only that but he'd been tinkering with their minds during their speeches, just a tad, a seed for emotion planted and the feeling of illusion slowly removed, until his guild deemed otherwise, everything would be very very real. The process was expensive beyond measure and had a long with the recruitment game set back The Nameless to almost bankruptcy, they had been lucky to have one of the three psychics capable of such a feat amongst their number.

Each shadow was a prominent figure or figures in the persons life, a group of people that could be used to drive them to the edge of tears, or perhaps the edge of sanity. All designed to be negative, hateful, disapproving and eventually, violent. He smiled from his chair and spoke softly, his voice passing as a whisper into each recruits ear "Are you willing to forsake what you care about, for the life of another?" He spoke cryptically.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
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#, as written by Ankti
The smithy man stood between her and the golem. Smoke puffed out from him in a gentle rhythm, filling the air with a haze. The smell of him, like strong metal, filled Tiotio with resolve. His frame spoke of power and of a fierce energy, just barely contained.

Just one strong ally to help her protect Eitr, one friend, meant she was not alone, that this would not end as it had that night in the alley.

<b>“With you both as my witnesses, I will never run again.”</b>

Tiotio screeched her support, thrusting her bo threateningly at the golem.

The golem did not advance, did not give indication that it noticed them. The mud that rippled across its body flowed faster, swirling around, dislodging the sticks, picking them up like branches in a river.

It seemed for a moment to convulse as the mud changed direction and flowed to the ground. A pool spread before the creature as it oozed to the ground, its mockery of a face pulled into something horrifying as it melted.

Wayland could not back away fast enough as the mud surrounded his shoes. It crept up, caking the toes in filth. He realized too late that the mud was not rising, he was sinking, as cold wetness gripped his legs.

Then he was gone, like a stone dropped into a lake.

Tiotio was shocked into a still stupor. Her bo hung limp in her hand. Next to her Etir called, screeching out in his baneful voice that she should fight, run, do anything. She found her senses just in time to see a hand shoot forward out of the mud.

Its claws were the tips of treebrances, and its fingers lumps of mud that held her by the neck, lifting her into the air. Her bo dropped to the stone floor. She kicked and clawed uselessly to try to free herself. Filth coated her hands and feet as they passed through the mud.

On the other side of the platform Keres still stood, still stared forward. Whether she was still lost in her own despair, Tiotio did not know, but she used her last wind to try and call to the woman for help.


---


River was alone on the platform. The echo of Aizen’s words hung overlong in his ears, like a ringing. A discordant note.
The note seemed to stretch out, filling the air above his head, causing the darkness to vibrate. Then he was vibrating. It was not his own body, his own flesh, but the energy he carried inside of him, the souls he’d consumed.

A form condensed out of the air, a single white string, strumming to the now melodic sound. It was voices calling, drums beating, waves crashing. It was deafening and calming.

The string opened into a seam. It split wide to reveal white nothingness. Then there was a pull, a longing that tore at him from the inside. The souls, each one he’d consumed, each piece of essence he’d ripped away from its person, called in one voice to be set free, to be allow passage into this welcoming place.

With this tugging came a certainty, that if these souls, these spirits, found their rest through the light, the act would tear River to pieces. His own soul, his own being, would travel with them and vanish into the air, join them in their peace.

But a noise pulled him from this realization, pulled his attention from the light. A column of water, thick and round, suspended in the air, splashed stray bits of water onto the stone, and on to River.

Nothing seemed to be holding it in place, and even as small bits of it dripped and dribbled on the ground, the main body of the column stayed suspended in the air.

Inside the water was a man, one River thought he recognized from the trials, maybe the battle. His clothes, torn and stained from the battle, whipped around him as if pushed by some churning current.

In Wayland’s mind he saw ocean, the light of day on the surface, growing every more dim as he sunk further and further. The heat of his body, of his bones and muscle was leaking out of him into the icy water. He did not see the red haired boy who stood only feet from him, he saw dark blue nothing, crushing him from all sides.

The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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#, as written by duramon
River looked between the column of water, the drowning man inside and the steady flow of water, his soul being tugged towards the open white thread by the wails of dozens of dead families. He smiled sadly to himself and clicked his fingers, ice surging from the veins in his left arm and ebbing it into the air like strange blue blood, waving strangely in the air around him. He waved his arms across his chest once and the ice instantly solidified into a cage of ice-spikes and blades positioned around his now anchored arms.

"Not too long ago I would have fought anything to the last and then stepped through that portal....but if I do I'll go through on my own terms. Rain already buried me once, so when I set you free, I'm not going to leave anything to bury, and I'm done fighting for nothing but the cause of my survival...This is the end." He growled, clicking his fingers again, the dozens of ice spikes instantly impaling him in every part of his body, the spines sticking through his legs, his chest, his ear and even his hands. Hands that now lay cold and dead on the floor, severed from his body a long with the remainder of his arms up to the elbow, the Incubus roared in pure agony and stumbled, coughing and spluttering blood as the remaining ice anchored his legs so he could stand.

In a single moment a rush of pink-ish red energy roared out of every open wound and gap, within the miasma small star like specks were floating, the souls of the dead. He simply stood, shuddering and shaking as he bled and the storm of souls wavered behind him. He weakly snapped his slick fingers a few times, eventually creating a click between through the ever-flowing blood and finally sending the cloud onward through the portal to freedom. One small orb stayed behind, a black spined sphere that emanated a mixture of blinding cold and disgusting warmth as it slowly sunk itself back into the Incubus through a wound in his throat, closing it off slowly.

The ice anchoring him shattered and he faintly recalled the feeling of falling.
'Whatever that thing is, at least I have an audience for my end...I guess I won't get to pay Rain back until the after life...but I'll make sure I'm waiting with an ale and our friends..' He thought slowly, his mental functions dropping to almost nothing as the little black sprite pulsated in its new position at his heart, the blood around him flash-freezing and slowly creeping up his body, dropping his body to sub-zero temperatures and freezing his slowly dying form. With every inch of him that froze, another inch shattered and fell away, and he wouldn't want to leave this world any other way.

With no evidence that he ever existed.