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Cabin # 1 Zeus

Cabins Cabin # 1 Zeus Owner: RolePlayGateway

/say hey i'm layla but my close friends call me lay :)



Alcoholia
Je m’appeles Sobraxus. Et toi?



Main Street (Continued)
!
LIVE FROM OUTSIDE GAMBIT'S
THE INN : NOW
YOUR SOURCE FOR THE LATEST INTERGALACTIC HAPPENINGS



This is Lorbloo Nuurk, reporting LIVE from just outside Gambit's Bar. Nobody can tell how it happened, and nobody knows where anyone went, that fateful day every single person within Gambit's Bar disappeared into what seemed like thin air. Yes, even the staff! Magical beings, robo-types, and humanoids alike just gone. But, to where? Are they still alive?

More questions than answers have arisen from the scene, whether or not a crime has been performed has yet to be determined. The WCPD suspects foul play but have seemingly nobody to blame. Many have speculated that this disappearance will be tacked onto the charges accrued by Zosimos of the Vankoryth Detente, however they haven't been officially named or associated with the incident to any official degree. Others are pointing fingers at the Aschen, but that theory is easily debunked with the remembrance of the treaties. We've reached out to Detente and Aschen officials, neither of which have offered comment on the circumstance other than to claim dissociation.

Inside Gambit's Bar, the discovery of a strange black sparkly void dust has officials concerned. All persons permit access to Gambit's Bar have been advised to not touch the void dust. I repeat, do not touch the void dust. Eyewitness reports claim that prior to the disappearance, a strange red glow had occupied the windows of Gambit's Bar - others claim it was just a local brown out, and that the light was playing tricks on their eyes.

While investigations continue, the Intergalactic News Network will be stationed here to report on whatever- and whoever -is found to be complicit in this mass disappearance. Stay tuned!

Main Street
Leviathan waited for the winds to return a reply, but heard nothing — all but the hum of spacecraft, coming from the bizarre area to the north. Having been asleep for over a decade in his own time, this was a new sound in a city that felt unfamiliar, despite this very creature being there at the beginning.

In a huff, Leviathan stomped off, stepping over one building before crushing another in his slither towards the sound.

Adventurer's Guild HQ
Echo sat down at the bar that was situated at the front of the guild. Bored, she took a sip of the ale that sat in front of her. The Guild was uncharacteristically quiet for this time of year

Iskjerne Bay
Uhtred watched from a safe distance, boredom evident on his face, a face that did not belong to the man he once was. "Oh, Sigurd..." Some lessons had to be learned with blood and tears it seemed. A shame for his people.

Terran National Library and Archives
Slowly pacing through the library, Stockton steps past the rows of shelves. His eyes carefully watched his surroundings, scanning back-and-forth along the cases filled with books and the several upturned tables.

His gut felt like it was burning. He very sincerely wished he had brought a pistol, or at least something he could stab with. I'm never first to the scene. He takes a moment to stare at a neat, head-sized hole burned horizontally through a bookshelf, the edges of the interior still smoldering. I usually cause this kind of s... Nevermind. I need a firearm.
He walks over to one of the books on the ground, quickly crouching down to grab it. He flips to the very end, where the extraneous papers are, and carefully tears it out as quickly as he can. Withdrawing the pen from his shirt, he raises a knee to serve as a surface. Glancing around and stepping behind the poor cover of a shelf, he sketches out a shape, then fills in the details with smaller symbols.

He takes a deep breath, then tears the page in half. In the brief moment that the paper takes to split into rough, jagged halves, there's a space of nothing. He uses this moment, shoving his hand into the rift, withdrawing a handgun. There's a still-smoldering scorch marked into the slide, which he quickly inspects. Should still function.

He ignores the sudden wave of nausea that strikes him a few seconds later, the aftereffects of using raw, broken magic. It always felt like somebody was twisting his stomach into knots, and doing it often enough could cause him to black out.
He avoided that the best he could.

He chambers a round in the pistol, a Wildebeest .44.
Damn. Guess it's time to roll.

Thor's Tavern
Wilhelm Killing felt the fibers of fundamental physics shifting and shuddering, and immediately snapped to attention.

Well I'll be... what an intriguing phenomenon!
he exclaimed, to no one in particular, before getting lost in otherworldly investigations of his own machination.

Camp Athens
Image
xxxxxxxxxx T R I N I T Y xx W A L L A C E
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xxxxxxx Daughter of Ares | Outfit | #461f4b

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“Yeah... I was content letting him get eaten,” Wes said.

Trinity smiled and dared to take some assurance in Wesley’s humour, her chest lifting in alleviation but as they tried to rise and get him back on his feet, Wes didn’t look well. “Son of a—” was all he managed before toppling over.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Trinity scrambled to readjust her hold and balance his now deadweight without him hitting the ground, and even with a mechanical limb short, he was…well double her size and she was stupidly relaxed. She peered over his shoulder and sighed out. “It's okay. I got you.” With Wes was unconscious, the assurance was more self-serving and she needed it.

“You need a hand carrying him?” That frustrating familiar voice.

Trinity sent a cold look up at him. Over her dead body. Not to mention Wes didn't even like the guy.

“Look we’re heading in same direction anyway.” Lochlan added.

Trinity's hold and death stare remained perfectly in place. “I'll do it myself.” She wasn't letting a guy she didn't trust so much as touch Wesley. Out of raw defiance and stubbornness, Trinity tried to carry, drag, even craft a makeshift stretcher to transport Wes' body on and partially succeeded every few steps before switching methods or retrying something but it was just so fucking awkward on her lonesome.

Trinity huffed and stood upright, rubbing her forehead. With great difficulty, and Wes would have to forgive her, she addressed Lochlan. “Okay, yeah, I could use some help.” The sooner they got some medical treatment, the better. Looking Lochlan over as he approached, the same probably applied for him.
Lochlan did the wise thing of keeping it a quiet journey and being obedient to her directions on how to handle Wes. She only hoped, kind of for both their sakes, he didn’t wake mid-transport and kick out at Lochlan. It would be funny, just not ideal.

Together, they managed to haul Wes to the arena. Almost at the very threshold, Lochlan found his voice again. “You two okay from here? ”

She could see he was keen to go and without care for his reason, Trinity gave a curt nod and waved him off. Lochlan left Wes solely in her care and arms again. A little “oof” escaped her, wrapping her arms around his mid section, once his full weight fell back on her. “Thank you. Really, thank you.” He offered where Trinity sooner expected him to pace off. He even made a point to catch her eye.

Maybe he was being somewhat sincere. Trinity just nodded at him again. She couldn’t say you’re welcome or thank you back but she could say his genuine thanks was received.

She sighed out and managed to log Wes along to the closest unoccupied tent and shift him on a cot. But nursing, no matter how many wounds she had afflicted over time, was not her forte. Trinity gnawed on her lip anxiously and started applying pressure to his wound to stop or at least slow the bleeding some...so he didn't bleed out and faint like already had. She glanced at the cart seeing a range of medical supplies but it was all meaningless if you didn't know what you were doing or where to begin. She just hoped a child of Apollo or a qualified nurse was doing the rounds.

But hope was another thing she didn't like to depend on. “Come on. You need to wake up and give me directions,” she muttered to Wes. She cupped his head so he didn’t startle that someone had their hands up by his thigh. That said, she had to get on top of her own wound too. She grimaced and swapped hands, one hand cradling her boar bite and one over Wes's wound sitting on the cot by him.

Noble
In the midst of the jubilant crowd, a Schwarzesloch officer discreetly approached the stage, giving it a casual pat to capture Rigel's attention without causing a scene. Rigel turned his head and waved a hand to the crowd before he briskly approached the edge of the stage, reciprocating the officer's salute with his own.

"Report," he muttered, hands casually clasped behind his back.

"Sir, we've spotted unfamiliar faces—appeared to be a scouting party," the officer reported.

Rigel's tone turns to something of dismissive amusement with a light chuckle, "And why's that a problem, exactly?" he questioned.

"Sir?" the officer replied, clearly a bit bewildered wavering slightly in his posture as his hand falters.

"Don't pretend there's cause for worry; guilty of something, are we?" Rigel's tone grew a tad harsher as he lowered himself to the officer's eye level.

"Well, no, sir, we—" the officer started, his voice shaky until Rigel playfully interrupted with a pat on the head.

"Relax. If they swing by again, weeeell, we'll extend a proper welcome—welcomes, handshakes, toss in a few drinks on the house and exchange pleasantries as usual, eh?" Rigel chuckled, pointing a finger playfully. "Ay, ayy? Whether they accept or not, grab a drink yourself, you deserve it. You're dismissed."

"S-sir? Yes, sir!" the officer responded enthusiastically before heading off. Rigel returned to the mic with unbroken confidence in his step, leaning over the mic and holding his arm up to get the crowd's attention.

"Well, this is unexpected. Just got word that we might be graced by some rather interesting guests! Let's give them the finest Noble welcome, shall we?"

Hotel Zafiro Lobby
Haruka cast a wary glance around the surroundings before cautiously trailing behind Volare, her steps hesitant and laced with nervous energy. The prospect of encountering a corpse was not one she felt prepared for, yet the pull to find her brother above prevailed over her unease. As her eyes shifted between the looming unknown and the visibly anxious Volare, a unique sense of responsibility overcame her own fear. Despite the chilling uncertainty, she couldn't shake the conviction that, somehow, she needed to be there for Volare in this disconcerting moment. She also looked over at Jack, then down at Eques and tilted her head.

"I've never before met a feline esper before," she projected the thought directly to Eques, but wasn't quite sure if that'd even work. She was testing on a hunch more than anything. She hasn't even really had much experience outside of her aunt who's teachings are clearly more about feeling it out than any concrete lessons. "Or... maybe I'm mistaken and staring awkwardly at a cat like a crazy person..?"

Deep 17 Station Metatron
███████ ████ - 08██
██/██/██97
████ ██-██
"██████ ██ ███████"
███████ Status: ACTIVE
████ Status: 1 VER. DECEASED, 1 PRES. CAPTURED


They were undoubtedly all going to die here. There wasn't anything they could do to delay or stop that.
Kicker caught a disruptor bolt to the throat, the heat instantly melting the armored covering and searing the flesh underneath it, giving him a split moment to reach up before going limp. Shield releases his rifle and darts over to check on his co-captain, narrowly ducking under the next volley and behind, only to be met by the arriving CSU from the rear.

As the atmosphere fully exits the docks, Valiant finds his SAW rendered useless, the gas-blowback system rendered inert. Throwing his PK2 down to strike the dock floor, he raises his arms and steps toward the Aschen troops. One of the disruptor rounds strikes him in the thigh, causing him to stumble forward and end up in a half-kneeling position, arms still clenched behind his head.

Shield looks blankly through his faceplate at the returning security agents, holding his officer in his arms. With another few seconds of hesitation, he pulls Kicker's SR-9 from his hip and places it against his comrade's faceplate, sending a high-caliber round through the helmet of the man in a second, then through his own the next. Both of them go slack, their limp forms half-floating in the zero-gravity environment, secured to the 'ground' only by the soles of their magnetic locks.

About eight seconds pass before the bodies of the two team leaders inflate underneath their armor, the explosive charges cracking the interior and causing blood to seep out in a cloud from the holes punched in their helmets.

4,000 Miles Away, closing distance.
Marauder-6, secondary reinforcement team. Message from OVERWATCH reads as follows.

██/██/██97
MARAUDER-6
Secure Status: FAILED
ALL Status: 3 VER. DECEASED, 2 PRES. CAPTURED
OVERWATCH TO SUPPORT, WITHDRAW, DO NOT- REPEAT- DO NOT REINFORCE, HEAVY CASUALTIES. LANDING UNSECURE, MISSION FAILURE. PROBE TEAM MET HEAVY RESPONSE, MISSION FAILURE. OUTMATCHED.

GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOU.


The mining vessel quickly decelerates from FTL, coming to a slow halt moments later.
Inside, the team of forty sit quietly after the synthetic voice flashes over comms.
"Does that mean we can go home?"
"I don't know."


Around six minutes later, the mining barge floats in a cloud of debris, ripped into jagged halves.


The Hall of Heroes
Wilhelm Killing stood up, dusted himself off, and set off in a trot towards the tavern.

Kazzei Plains Force Temple
Cordelia hesitated, her gaze shifting uneasily between Jinn and Librarian Yulin. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she directed her attention to Jinn, her earlier composure now replaced with visible nervousness, exacerbated by the mention of OttO.

"OttO... that is— he is not my— you cannot simply make peace with a being who— I... want to one day return to this plane, permanently. I want... we Nix want... but the Unmaker wants to baptize this land with his Untime, his own brand of peace," she stammered, her voice trembling with anxiety. Bowing her head, she began to recite something under her breath, a murmured mantra of sorts. "You misunderstand me! I am not unfeeling, indifferent. I just can't... I can't let how I feel jeopardize everything! There's a greater cause than you realize because, for me I— imbalances will always happen, but if there's nothing to return to, then what is the point?"

With that, she turned and bowed again, then walked to the room prepared for her. However, her motions were more unsteady and heavier than before. Despite her earlier attempts to convey confidence, it was evident that she was struggling with a number of things.

The City
*hears a yell from the park*
Hmm?
Graham interested in where the noise was coming from decided to walk towards the sound of the fight.

Genesis
1. I got here from walking from some weird place, and 2. I came from some other weird place.


The Hero's Journey
/say
Bruh! I just came from the north, fine south then!


Goldenbridge Ward
Kyren Sullenfall heads toward the tavern, his first stop.

Ruby Flask
Kyren Sullenfall settled in, laughing subtly at the inquiry, feeding into his braggadocio.

Oh, only the biggest of beasts that Gaia has, you know. There's nothing like a GARGANTUA to slay after it's been tyrannizing a poor little farm village!
he chortled.

Kyren slurped into his Arcane Ale, hefting the glass into the air with a deep draw on the glass.




Midland

Aslund Midland Owner: Remæus

"You are very bold, to show yourself to me."

"You are very patient and gracious, to not smite me where I stand."

The two Elder Dragons stared at each other. Irral, the Dragon Champion of Light. Light's first born Son, and most powerful Champion of her will. Draco, Lord of Darkness, corrupted and healed by his own magic, powerful well beyond his years. Each wore his armor - Irral's own armor a crisp Alabaster and Gold, pure and radiant, and Draco's dark, brooding armor of Midnight Black and Blood Red. Their weapons were sheathed, but were ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

"You by now have sensed it yourself." Draco started. "She is back."

Irral nodded slowly, his eyes searching for the slightest movement from Draco that would denote an attack. So far he saw none. "I have. Your mother's return is troubling. More so if it worries you, who already killed her so many years ago." he stated.

The landscape around them rumbled with their combined presence, and then silenced. The grassland they'd met in very literally portrayed the differences between them. One one side, where Irral stood, the grass was tall, golden, and the flowers were in full bloom. A deer pranced away in the distance. Where Draco stood, the grass lay dead against the earth. Blackened as if burned, the flowers were wilted, a deer lay dying from corruption.

"What would you have me do? Join you in a crusade against your own mother? Only for you to do what? Stab me in the back at the end of the battle? Corrupt my soul again and once more turn me into a grieving, disease-ridden, disgusting human?" Irral's temper flared, and a breeze shook the grass around him.

Draco was silent for a moment before speaking in answer. "No. I would have you finish her off if I am unable to do so myself. Swoop in at the last moments of my life, purify my own soul before killing her. At least that way I can die in peace, rather than decompose, and exist as a soul once more until I find a suitable host once more, or my body regenerates."

Draco's own cursed abilities not only corrupted everything around him, it corrupted him as well. As a result, he was unable to die through non-holy or purifying means. His body and soul each could be torn asunder, beaten back into nothing, and destroyed in their entirety. He would still survive, and continue to spread his influence until he is cleansed of his own corruption, and allowed to finally die.

The Wolf Queen didn't want her pet to die so easily when she granted him his powers. She did a fantastic job of doing so. Too well. He inevitably killed her, too, and even went on to face The Light herself, his body and soul being separated for a million years before he was powerful enough in his Ethereal body to break the sealing magic around his body, and inhabit his shattered, empty husk of a carcass once more.

Irral considered the Shadow Dragon King's offer, and then nodded. "Very well. I shall inform the All-Mother of your decision. In the mean time, expect to be watched. You will not receive help from the Guardians of Light, nor should you expect any. In such a time that you are near death, I will cleanse you of your corruption, and allow you to pass on. But it will not be peaceful."

"Then we are agreed. Farewell, Champion of Light."

"Farewell, Cursed Shadow King."

Irral vanished in a flash of glorious, beautiful golden light, and Draco melted in upon his own body, a puddle of black sludge forming as his form melted into the landscape. The sludge then sank into the earth, leaving that particular area entirely dead, while the wildlife and rest of the world began to recover immediately.

A deal between two great Elder Dragons was made. But only time would tell if it would be honored.

Wing City
Linus Trucidabunt surprised himself when he grabbed Carmen's hand back.

The Fantasia Galaxy
The Stjorndrekr drifted slowly through outer Space, entering the Fantasia Galaxy after traversing through millions and millions of light-years and light-miles of gas clouds and dark matter at the speed of cosmic sound, with some assistance from Gaian magic. This small but magnificent space-faring dragon ship was one of three twin vessels or sister ships. Whereas the Stjornhestr returned to Bastion IV, and the Stjornkona headed for Dedelion, the legendary Stjorndrekr had left the galaxy completely and the Empyrean Norsemen on board had just set a record for being the crew and passengers of the most distant Gaian Norse vessel in the universe. The reason why the Empyrean Norsemen had traveled so far, along with the Sjoalfar who accompanied them was still a mystery. But it had taken weeks, months, even a few years for the Stjorndrekr to arrive as it drifts quietly through the Fantasia Galaxy, undetectable by radio, satellite, computer, phone, radar, or most forms of communication as the Stjorndrekr had no electricity and gave off very little if any signature, being only 1/3rd the size of most other transport buses, enterprises and shuttle ships. Although the Stjorndrekr had its own on board built-in ecosystem, 13 escape shuttles and an arsenal of weapons and armour capable of engaging in intergalactic warfare with a crew of 500 or more Vikings, it resembled a classic sea-faring Viking longship, with a sci-fi/steampunk twist, being moderate or humble in size but decoratively elaborate in appearance as it descended towards the Talmora System, making no sound whatsoever as it continued its most linear trajectory to one of the furthest points in the local universe. The dragon-prowed longship gave off no light of its own, only reflecting the distant stars with its silver and gold manufacturing as it hovered quietly, sailing through Fantasia.






Shinrin

Kasai Shinrin Owner: shentino

Meteor was a speck in the night sky of the forested planet, and falling.







Arteghia

Terra Arteghia Owner: Remæus

A brightlight in the sky washed over the land, suffusing it with a purity and sense of joy unlike any other.

As that light washed over the massive Lutesong, the Pillars, Transports, and other forces, they each shattered into a flurry of pure white feathers that glowed with a soft warm light all their own.


Lutetia

Issunar Lutetia Owner: Remæus

"Then out with it, "Yellow King", or are you going to continue to bore me with your long winded allegory for some chicken broth love scheme you call the multiverse!" Bigsby pulled his hat down from atop his head allowing the massive hat to open up a portal behind the wizard sucking itself and the tree he was behind with him.

It was obvious that Bigsby would need to look over his notes and view the realms once more to see what chaos was being caused. It was such a shame that his vacation to another random locale had been disrupted once more.