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Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura

Life is nothing but a futile spark, struggling against the darkness but ultimately doomed to failure. I represent the darkness that lies at the end of all. So how can you expect to stop me?

0 · 531 views · located in Earth 2040

a character in “Mystics: Rise of Disception”, as played by Asper

Description

Name: Alisarrian Timura
Nickname: Lord Manacia
Age: He has been around since Ancient Times, leaving many to believe that he is around ten thousand years old, though it isn't well known.
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Germanian/Middle Eastern
Origin: His mother was a Germanic tribes women who traveled to the middle east, his father was a middle eastern potter. Both had traces of magical power.
Appearance Description: In his days as a living being, his skin was dark, though his eyes blue and hair blonde. He was a handsome and masculine man, in till he changed.
Image
Orientation: Straight
Side: Nobility
Abilities:
Power of Undeath, he is able to reanimate corpses and control the undead, when he is around other undead, their power is increased.
Draining Aura, his aura slowly drains life from average mortals, as well as places fear in the hearts of many beings, including divine ones.
Unholy vigor, his bones are harder then the strongest of metals, his strength, able to rip flesh apart like it was nothing. He does not tire nor feel pain.
He has many other abilities, though they will make themselves known as the roleplay unfolds.
Skills: Swordsmanship, leading, tactics, magic, millenniums of accumulated knowledge.
Weapon: His treasured sword, his sword is not like others though. It is the vessel for his soul, with a thought he can repair it but if it is stolen. He will be driven weak and insane, not many can wield the sword though. Even the most powerful of divine beings will feel its terrible tole of their very being. As it has the essence of a soul, it can pass through armor and weapon and his whim, becoming like an apparition itself.
Personality: In life he was a courageous and wise ruler, in death he has become consumed by nothing but hatred and grief. Seeking to wage war on life itself, he however is with honor, as his time is nearly without end. He sees the only lasting thing in the universe is honor, he will hold true to deals and vows. He will always face a foe on equal ground if they are a worthy challenge, and will honor those he kills if they presented him with a challenge. He has granted life to few of those he has defeated in equal combat, letting them live if they wish to.
Brief History: The tale of Alisarrian is a dark and tragic one, it is a story about a man who rose from the ranks of a common potters son, and proceeded to become one of the most gifted rulers in history. Not only a natural warrior and leader, but a powerful and gifted sorcerer. Who at one time ruled a great empire, however all who are given great power, are doomed to lose it. He fell in love with a beautiful angel, who traveled the world working to create spread peace in the name of the Gods. They fell in love but it was doomed, he could not become an immortal, she knew the sorrow she would feel knowing that he would grow old an die while she stayed young for all of time. She denied him and fled, in his rage he went to the front lines in a great battle. As he held his wounds and lamented, a dark God of Death came to him. Promising him an eternal existence, however it would come at a terrible price. Alisarrian gave into the Gods demands, in a moment, dark and green evil fire burst from his very core. It was his soul fleeing his body, being tainted by Death itself. It bonded to his sword, resulting in him being only a skeletal being, whose armor would remain his only skin. Who no longer needed a brain to formulate dark plots, or a heart to drive his evil passions. He sought the angel he loved, but she would not have him, as he became a dark and evil being. In his rage he nearly killed her, she fled back to her realm of the Gods and he never saw her again. Alisarrian sought a new name, one that would inspire fear, he dubbed himself Lord Manacia. He spent years plotting, in till he rose up as the head of the Nobility. Planning to one day conquer the world.

So begins...

Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura's Story

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura
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#, as written by Asper
The battle raged on around the noble King Alisarrian, soldiers that he had raised from his own village, died around him. There was no hope for them, this would surely be their one and final fight. The King kneeled down on the battle field, clutching at one of his numerous wounds as blood pored onto the ground around him. A soldier ran in front of him, blocking a blow that cleaved his head from his shoulders. The head rolled to Alisarrian, the eyes staring at his with a great look of final terror. The head belonged to his cousin, a man who had joined him when he first began his path of war. Grief from the loss of his beloved and the impending doom they faced overwhelmed him. However there was still one more chance, he remembered the deal that echoed through his head every moment he thought of his death. The deal that would end all death... He raised his head and shouted, "I accept your deal, Death!" In a sudden flash of darkness, green unholy fire ripped form his very being, the greatest pain any mortal could ever know, would become the last pain he ever felt...

King Manacia stirred from his vision, a constantly reoccurring, living dream that he lived periodically; an old memory from his previous life. He sat on his dark throne, in an unknown location that only his faithful followers could find. Of course they were only undead minions and familiars that walked those necrotic halls. Frequently undead ravens would come to him, bearing news from the living world of conquest and occasional 'speed bumps' in his plans. One flew above him dropping a note into his lifeless hands, opening it he read, "You thought the Mystics gone, but now we have returned. Your reign has come to an end. I, Naja, will see to it personally that you fall, along with the rest of the Nobility.” A cold hatred stirred inside his hollow being, the paper burned to ashes in his hand. He stood from his throne, clenching the sword that held is soul. Looking deep into the dark fortress in which he dwelled, he watched the undead army that went on as far as mortal eyes could see. There would be no action yet, not while Manacia's only challenge existed. This would perhaps be the last bit of fun he had in his immortal life, the last thrill he would ever experience.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned
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#, as written by Asper
Manacia watched Daimion through the eyes of a Shadow, a non-corporeal being capable of hiding in the shadows of others. They were beings that he created from darkness, so long as one was near him he could see through the "eyes" of all of them. He so happened to have hundreds that dwelled in his shadow, as he watched Daimion he used the shadow to say to him, "Whatever Mystics you gather, bring to me, you will certainly be rewarded for your initiative..." Manacia enjoyed Daimion, so eager to please and always meeting his expectations. He thought of him like a dog, eager to obey, but also able to surprise him with his 'ability.' He turned his attention to Suyag, a powerful ally, yet so eager to be his OWN King. If anything, Manacia was their Emperor, and them his loyal vassals that perhaps secretly plotted against him. The smallest bit of humor rose in him, deception was key to the trade. Of course they did not know of his great treachery that would even involve them... Only time would tell of their fate at his hands...

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Chen YanYu
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The warlock had been contemplating his king's last message during their short wait for Alleyson to show up. "Any Mystic you find, bring them to me, and be rewarded." That was what he had heard, but he did not enjoy the thought of what he would do to them. More importantly, he did not know if the girl-elf had wore the necklace he had given her. No matter, he would take them to see his king, whether they agreed to go or not, but how? It came to him suddenly, 'Father,' he thought with a slow smile. Father, like Mother, was golem built with fatherly instincts into it, but unlike Mother, it was created out of ice, steel, and death magicks. It was also on the border of the Lich King's lands, of which, he was sure to take notice if three 'guests' were to appear on his doorstep.

The smile upon his lips grew tight, as Alleyson Rosewright came around the corner. She didn't strike him as anything, but the feel about her was wholly human. 'Odd,' he thought slowly, 'Normally they are half of something else. Should be interesting, nonetheless.' With a small bow in her direction, he said, "My name is Daimion, and this here is Scarlet, and we have something to discuss with you, but, unfortunately, we cannot discuss it here." He held up his hand, and spoke in a harsh language once more. The world about the three became harsher, bleaker, and colder. Around them was the beginnings of a winter wonderland, and before them was a cliff that ascended into the clouds above. "Drats," he muttered, "I was off again. No matter," he spoke aloud, then, "If you two will forgive me, but magick does have its limits sometimes." Carefully, he wrapped an arm about the two by the waist, and lifted them into his arms. There was a sound of leather being torn, as large gossamer wings erupted from his back, changing his entire features into a serene-like look. His hair became silver, dancing in the wind, and his body stretched back into his regal self. "Much better," he laughed aloud, as his wings grew larger, thicker, more corporeal. They appeared to be much like a pair of dragons' wings, but that shifted, suddenly, into an appearance of angel wings.

The wings back to stretch themselves slowly, as he squatted down close to the ground. "Hang on to me tight, ladies, it'll be a short ride, but well worth it, I guarantee you," he said with a sly wink. Once the wings had flapped experimentally a few times, they folded themselves close to his body, just as he leaped high into the air. They unfurled then, and began to pump upwards, gaining height quickly. Soon, they were above the clouds, and his booming laughter echoed across the sky in triumph. He soared about the clouds, subtly calling to Father with his magick, until there came a rumbling answer west of them. Banking west, he glided them towards a now forming cliff, where a giant of ice and steel stood waiting for them, waiving its arm at them. The moment he set the pair down, was the moment he cried out happily, and hugged the giant. This was the only time he would express true emotion for another creature, because Father was his first creation, and it resembled the old Daemon that was his real father. It was built much like a Templar was from the days of old, but out of ice and steel. It even had human-like features etched into its face, as well as an open faced helmet atop its head, but more importantly, it had a tongue and a gift for speech, even if it was slow and simple.

"Father," Daimion said happily, "these two young ladies are Scarlet and Alleyson. They will be needing shelter from the cold, food, drink, and better clothing." The giant beckoned to the to follow, lumbering slowly north. He then pulled Scarlet aside, whispering, "You wanted to speak to another Mystic, so hear is your chance. I will leave you both alone for a time, and will be back by nightfall." A finger pointed past Father, who was still lumbering north, "There is a cottage for you both to relax at, including a hot tub, fine food and drinks, and warmer clothing made of the finest materials on the planet. I suggest you two get going," he said aloud, "A fog is moving in, and I would hate to see you both freeze to death before I had a chance to dine with you." With that, he vanished in a flurry of snow and gravel.

Deep within the mountain, was a small treasure trove of wealth, but when he said "small", he really meant to say that it would make a greedy dragon lust after his trove. He cared little for the gold and jewels that cascaded down to the floor in front of him. Instead, he headed straight for the center of the room, where two giant skeletons stood guard over a small chest between them. As he neared, he noticed that the guards' heads had swiveled to follow his every movement, but did nothing, even when he reached the chest, opened it, and retrieved his beloved daggers, Shin'ran and Terratuul. Shin'ran was crafted from a black dragon's fang and scales, incorporating the madness magick that it had spawned, whereas Terratuul was created from a slain golden dragon's fang and scales. It, too, had magick that was incorporated into the blade, but it was corrupted by its own death. Slowly pulling out Shin'ran, he stared into the skull at the hilt, until it finally woke up and began to cackle with maddening laughter. On the other side was another skull, but that one sobbed uncontrollably. He replaced the dagger back into its respective sheathe, cutting off the madness magick it had created, and withdrew Terratuul. That dagger began to sing a sad tune, as it slowly melted onto his left arm, becoming a shield with a spike in the centre. He replaced that one as well, buckled the pair to his waist, and said, sighing with contempt, "Tell Lord Manacia that there are two Mystics heading for the cottage at the border of his lands. Warn him not to approach until the cover of nightfall, not as his self, but as he once was in all his glory, and as human as possible. I, no, we need this to work, else it'll be another long and arduous war." One of the giants began to lumber towards the back, where it housed a massive gateway that led directly into the courtyard of the Lich King. Turning to the other, he said, "I need you to wake the others, and amass at the king's castle. There will be a war soon, and I plan not to be caught with my pants down again." Once more, he reached inside the chest, but pulled out a tan choker, with a prominent emerald in the centre. By placing it onto his neck, he began to feel more alive, as the drug known only as the Philosopher Stone began to course throughout his body. "Much better," he grinned maniacally, "Now then, off to China I go," and vanished the moment he thought of the place he wanted to go.

Daimion, no, Th'drago appeared over a compound near a forested terrain, and gradually glided down towards them on gossamer wings, which slowly took the form of a green dragon's wings. His own body began to shift, as the Serpent's influence took over his form. Dragon-like claws appeared upon his hands and feet, while a spiked tail erupted from his backside. Horns appeared from the sides of his head, and small green scales flowed over his body. Every time he visited the Asian countries, this had happened, and, most of the time, he would take a back seat and watch the show, but not this time. This time, he needed to call upon favors from his past, one that would benefit his "family", and hurt Naja. Alighting himself atop one of the structures, he found himself being stared at by men, women, and children of all ages. "I seek the lord of these lands," his voice boomed, "Bring him here, so that we may speak words together, and discuss past times, trades, and upcoming battles." That last made many people wary, and some scampered away. Leaping down to the ground, he could not help, but spy a passing maiden that smelled too much like a dragon. "You there," he pointed at the black haired maiden, "What is your name?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Syeira Eason Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Dorián TóMar Holden Character Portrait: Kurama Rolando Sakura Character Portrait: Chen YanYu Character Portrait: Casamir Eason Character Portrait: Willow Gonovian
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Nicolai, Alleyson, Scarlet & Lord Manacia

Alleyson gasped when Nicolai lifted his shirt and showed both Scarlet and her the angel wings that seemed to flap on his chest. She was more or less stunned by the man's physique than the tattoo that he was showing them. Still, gawking at the man would prove useless if she didn't get to know him first. What he spoke of hit a nerve with Alleyson. First Naja comes and tells them that they are mystics and protectors of the Earth and now this guy, whose name is Nicolai, comes and tells them the exact same thing, and that their lives were in danger. To make matters worse, a deep dark voice filled the room and creeped from the shadows. Nicolai glared, knowing full well whose voice it was.

"Lord Manacia," Nicolai stated as he heard the heavy footstep. He watched as Scarlet took his side, and now he waited on Alleyson.

"I'm coming with you," Alleyson said, "but no funny business."

"Alright, but we need to leave now," Nicolai stated, "do you still have the card?"

"I do," Alleyson stated, "I kept it in my wallet."

Alleyson pulled the card out and gave it to Nicolai. She stood next to Nicolai and glanced over at Scarlet. This was all a bit much, but the voice she heard was far too dark to belong to anyone of good. Then she saw the one responsible for such a horrid voice. Alleyson backed up a bit, but Nicolai stood his ground.

"Lord Manacia, it seems time has been nice to you," Nicolai cockily spoke as he steadily backed away from Manacia, holding his arms out to keep the girls behind him, "but I'm afraid I can't do as you ask."

Nicolai shifted forms, his aura glowing as he continued to keep his arms outstretched so that the girls were protected.


Willow & Laea

"This decision you have made will be one you will not regret. Now, hold on to me, this trip will be quick."

Laea smiled down at Willow and touched her on the shoulder before her eyes glowed brightly and the two of them vanished. They arrived in front of the base in the Amazon, to which Laea was much relieved. She had appeared directly in front of Dorián, and Kurama.

When the group entered into the base, Naja turned around and looked at them.

"Ahh, welcome, welcome, welcome," he said softly, "I trust you have many questions for me so please, all of you wait for me in the main hall."

Naja stepped into his chamber, allowing Laea to lead the mystics into the main hall. Dorián was used to this place, for it was his home.

As they walked, they noticed the beauty of the base. There seemed to be no expense spared to build this place. Walls lined with beautiful satin. Chairs made of the finest material. Laea opened a large door which led to the main hall. The hall was gigantic. A large flat screen TV perched on the wall. Large bay windows on the opposite side, covered with wooden blinds. It was all luxury. The main hall led into a kitchen area that was vast, and by the size of it, could feed an army. Laea smiled as they entered in.

"Please, make yourself at home, Naja will be with us shortly."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Chen YanYu
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Chenguang was the most beautiful woman the warlock had ever met, and he had met plenty during his long life. She was called the "Morning Star" in the western world, a Lucifer in the Roman tongue, but she was his. She had cared for him after a losing battle against the Mystic of Light, shielded him from the bastard that would dare strike out at him, and ultimately drove him back. Daimion was grateful for what she had done for him, and asked her to follow him with promises of glory and treasure. She had yearned for such an opportunity, but the other clans had forbidden such an action, damning all who would try. This did not stop her, however, and she entered the war, standing by the Warlock of Nobility as she did so. He had known his king's feelings about the union between them, but did not care. She was his, and that was all that had mattered.

Devastation, chaos, mayhem, all these things, and more is what they had inspired in their enemies. Although the mystics had employed mythical creatures that could fly, they could not stand against the drakes and dragons' clan. When she went down because of a massive wound to her shoulder, his entire form changed completely. His scales had changed from a pale green, to brilliant sapphire blue, but something more. He became a death dragon, a being of immense power, but only for a short time. The length of such of form would destroy a lesser being, but to one such as him? He could only last for an hour, before succumbing to exhaustion. On the battlefield, however, his blinding rage decimated the plain, causing friend and foe to flee from the devastation. Only the king had the strength to stop his madness, before he could deal even more damage.

Now, however, Naja had appeared, threatening violence with golems, knowing full well that he could do nothing to retaliate. When he stole YanYu away from him, he felt the chains of his neutrality fall away from him, and lashed out, striking with the darkest of magicks into the void the old Mystic had conjured up, striking at him full in the face. "You have started this war once more, Naja" Daimion said slowly as he watched his quarry fade from his sight, "You will not live beyond this one. I guarantee it." As Naja faded away, he held up the living body of the archer that had shot at him. "With this one's blood, I will find them, and I will find Chenguang's offspring and bring her back. I have lived as a Noble since last we met, and have wished for a peaceful end to all of this squabble, but lo, you have taken away that peace yet again. This time, there will be no peace." Power erupted about him, energy of the blackest and brightest erupted about him, striking out at the ground between the golems. They had begun to move in on him as he spoke, but the moment they had crossed the space where he struck, they had begun to disintegrate completely.

He had no cares for the world anymore, and began to call upon his resources by opening one massive portal after another. Creatures and beings as old as the world began to pour out of the portals, converging on the lone Daimion, chattering in their ancient languages. "Begin preparations," he said quietly, causing all around him to quiet and become still. "Beat the drums," his voice rose, "Sound the call," his arms rose above his head, which had drawn back, "For tonight, we go," with a loud cry he howled, "to WAR!"

A peel of lightening fell upon his shoulders, banishing him back to the king's lands, where he found Father in distress over the fact of an intruder within the lands of Death. "Call the others, Father," he said slowly, "Naja has started the war once more." The golem nodded once, then, taking a deep breath, he bellowed to the cold and uncaring world. However, the world rumbled and howled back at him. Ice and Frost Giants appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and converged on the cottage before them. Walking slowly, he shed his draconic form, to take up his regal self, and, upon entering the building, he stopped to stare at the intruder with a coldness that seemed to echo his liege lord's manner. "Nicolai," he said calmly, "The last time I saw you, one of Chenguang's drakes were eating your insides. Too bad for you, your leader has started the war by taking one of my mate's offspring from me." He withdrew Terratuul from it's sheathe, and pointed it at the man's chest. The song it sang was one of peace, and when directed at one person, however, it would instill a sense of Nirvana and Vertigo into the person. He focused the blade's influence at the man, using it's influence to turn him into a vegetable.

"My apologies, ladies, but you will not be going anywhere." His sidelong glance at the pair was one of anguish and despair, "Naja has stolen one of my mate's offspring from me, thus, starting the war once more." His head swiveled towards his king, and said with a low bow, "I am yours, fully, once more, my Lord Manacia. He has started it, so there is no more need to create any illusions for these young mystics. As an apologetic token, I offer up these three to you, in hopes that I may continue to stay in your services." Daimion never cared to kiss ass to his superior, but he was in the wrong for trying to have his lord appear as a human once more. "You do look stunning with skin on, if I may say so myself, and I do," his infectious smile was back, which beamed brightly towards the pair of ladies. "No one will be going anywhere," he repeated, "These lands belong to my Lord Manacia, and, because we are at war once more, my underlings are setting up the barriers necessary to keep everyone that does not use death magicks in, as well as out. In short," his smile became wholly manic then, "you are trapped for the duration of the war."

His smile became a chuckle as he was reminded of something. "Which reminds, the last war lasted almost a thousand years." The chuckle became a booming laughter, just as the barrier was complete, causing darkness to descend over the land.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul
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Misty blue orbs narrowed out of irritation as Daimion kissed his "Lord"s ass in front of the trio. It irked her to hell that she even believed him for a second. Though a sharp pang of fear filled her as Daimion mentioned a barrier trapping them as long as they wouldn't be able to use dark magic. Rubbing her temples, she fought the raging headache that just seemed to appear whenever she couldn't fight back in a situation. Clenching and unclenching her fists, the brunette tried to calm herself down, though adrenaline pulsed through her veins; her 'flight or fight' reflex taking action. "You're a bastard," she commented at Daimion as if it were the most obvious fact in the word. Turning her attention to Nicolai, and remembering what Daimion said about some dragon eating his insides for a slight moment before shaking her head and looking up at him. "Tell me you can get us out of here."

Looking out a nearby window, she saw shadows ingulf mountains of snow in the distance but quickly snapped her head back to the "Lord" when his voice sounded, filled with nothing but venomous anger. She barely comprehended when he spoke but kept a wary eye on his raised sword; a strange green glow emanating from the blade. She blinked-and he was gone. It took her a millisecond to notice that he was now only a few feet away from her, towering over Nicolai, sword being swung at the Mystic. "Nicolai!" Came her ear piercing shriek.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Chen YanYu
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Chen

Naja looked at Chen with a soft smile.

“Do not worry, they are safe. The Mystic Elders transplanted them to a safer place. My dear Chen, please forgive me if I have overstepped any boundaries you may have had. The Mystic Elders did not want any of you to fall into the hands of Lord Manacia and his generals. I had to act quickly to get ALL of you here. Nicolai is with the last two, and with his skills and magic, I am more than certain he will be able to bring them back. Now, please go to the main hall, I will be there shortly.”

Naja smiled at Chen and turned once more to leave.


Nicolai, Lord Manacia, Scarlet, Alleyson, & Daimion

Nicolai watched as Daimion appeared and began to talk. When the male warlock pulled his blade, Nicolai retaliated by producing a wall of rock that shot straight through the floor in between Daimion and himself, thus stopping the affects of Daimion's blade. Nicolai backed up a bit, backing the girls up along with him. Alleyson was in complete and utter shock at what was happening. She could only glare at the man she had come with. This Daimion fellow was on her hit list now.

“You're mistaken Daimion, for as long as we bear the sacred wings, we may leave, or have you forgotten that after all these years of being Manacia's toy?”

Nicolai barely had time to do anything when Lord Manacia moved, swinging his sword to decapitate poor Nicolai. If it hadn't been for Scarlet's scream, he would have fallen victim. Quickly rock encased all three of them, Lord Manacia's sword striking the hard earth, causing it to shatter and spread shrapnel in all directions. Nicolai took this as his chance to get them out of there. He pushed Scarlet and Alleyson into the tunnel he had created before jumping in himself, closing it after he had done so. They had escaped, but Nicolai's arm was bleeding. Manacia had managed to slash the mystic causing excruciating pain to fill his body. Within the Earth, Nicolai looked at the two women, his body shaking and his senses going haywire.

“Take me to Naja quickly. Read the incantation!”

Alleyson took the card from Nicolai and gave it to Scarlet.

“I can't pronounce the shit,” she said sternly as she looked at Nicolai's wound. She was panicking, trying to figure out what to do. She was no nurse, and she definitely didn't know anything about healing.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul
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Keeping light on her feet, she watched as Nicolai heeded her call; a rock wall raised in defense in front of the trio. Lord Manacia's sword struck though, shards of the rock jutting around the blade. Nicolai led the three into the tunnel he emerged from and blocked the other end with another rock wall.

Once landed, she looked at the other two to see Nicolai clutching his arm, blood trickling through his fingers. Scarlet found herself trembling at the sight of the red liquid. She could handle countless punches and kicks from her father and deliver just as much to a punching bag until her arms felt numb, but even a glimpse of the oozing red liquid sent her entire body shuddering uncontrollably. Her pale blue eyes were implanted onto the bleeding limb, though she noticed Nicolai say something before Alleyson replied and forced a small card into her shaking hands. Forcing herself to look down onto the card she lifted it up to eye level, and read the line with a slight stammer, “S-Solvia Lumus Verde.”

The strange head lightening feeling of teleporting she was starting to glow accustomed to washed over her. Gaining the feeling in her legs once again, she looked around, careful not to look at Nicolai's arm, and found them surrounded by a forest. Turning around, she found a massive white house that looked somewhat familiar to her parent's house. "Wh... Where are we?" She asked. Her voice raspy from her previous nauseousness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Takehiko Watanabi
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A threat to one's life would make any mortal quake in their boots, especially if the threat came from an ancient Lich King. Unfortunately, Daimion only found the threat to be amusing, and instead, simply shrugged before sheathing his weapon. His mortal shell meant nothing to him, and his "eternal soul"? He had already promised that to another, so his king's blade would remain hungry, never to taste his. As he turned his head towards the young women, he heard Scarlet calling him a bastard. "Guilty as charge," he said gleefully, bowing to the ground. A smile pursed his lips, and only became tighter when they left. "Too bad," he sighed dramatically, "If only they new what prizes my underlings had brought me." An orb of magick appeared in his palm, revealing to him, the chaos of his imps inflicting upon their respective homes. For Scarlet, he had taken her father, whereas the other, her precious skating park was destroyed, along with any that were there at the time. "A pity, indeed," his laughter boomed within the small cottage, "Fare thee well, my king," a small bow in his direction, "I have much to do, and little time to spare for such small pleasantries, such as staying within your gracious presence." At a single wave of his hand, he vanished with an echoing call of, "Expect a new present soon, my Lord Manacia. There are still a couple out there just waiting for us."

His sudden appearance within one of the "unregistered warehouses" where the government keeps it's most secured and secretive artifacts was enough to make anyone jump. Especially if it was in the restricted section that needed an eye scan and voice recognition to enter. "These pitiful humans, and their silly technologies cannot compete against my own," he muttered to himself. With eyes scanning the world about him, he could not help, but hear the alarm sounding off. A single small shrug gave away his thoughts on the matter, but when he spied what he needed, a single door. Fortunately for him, it wasn't a normal door, but one that would lead him to a greater form of strength. In short, it would be a test of the heart. Upon reaching the door, he heard a weapon drawn upon him, and an unknown voice yelling at him to turn around slowly, with his hands in the air. He did this, but with glowing green eyes, and a grin revealing rows upon rows of sharpened fangs. He saw the human's eyes grow wide with terror, and, with an intake of breath, the warlock wailed a Banshee's wail, causing the human's entire skull to rupture, spraying the door with his brain. "<Always fun,>" he muttered to himself, then began to contemplate moving the door.

The answer came to the warlock, just as more humans began to file through the doorway, demanding that he put away his weapons, and lie down on the floor. He ignored this, but when a pair of humans crossed the threshold, he turned around suddenly, and wailed another banshee's wail at them. This time, both of their heads exploded, splashing their comrades' bodies with brain matter, bones, and flesh. Most had scrambled away, whereas the more bold began to open fire at Daimion. That is, they would have if their weapons weren't covered in human goo. "Excuse me gentlemen," he said slowly, "but I shall be taking what is mine, now." A massive portal erupted behind the door, and a pair of icy black hands reached out, groping for the item in front of it. "Easy," he yelled at the creature, "It's right in front of you." A rumble shook the entire building, setting off multiple alarms, "It's a door you lumbering oaf. Of course it's not going to move."

His eyes peered down to see two items that intrigued him. One was a plain blade, with a ruby hilt, whereas the other looked too much like a fiber glass egg, but with a red button on top. The warlock's eyes narrowed at the object, and, turning around he yelled snarling with rage, "This is my technology. How the hell did you monkeys get your slimy hands on it?!" He calmed his composure, before saying with a slow grin, "I will be speaking to my underlings about this. For now," he pressed the red button, tossing it towards the opening, "please enjoy the atomizer. Everything will be obliterated within ten seconds. Farewell." He left them to their fate, then, walking directly into the portal.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Talia Merda Lena Character Portrait: Alleyson Rosewright Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Syeira Eason Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Dorián TóMar Holden Character Portrait: Kurama Rolando Sakura Character Portrait: Chen YanYu Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Casamir Eason Character Portrait: Willow Gonovian Character Portrait: Blaidd Drewg
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Naja smiled when Alleyson began to speak. She was a spunky one that much was asserted, and after she finished speaking, Naja nodded and waved his hand, creating a large screen of sorts in mid air. He then began to speak, the screen showing what he spoke about.

"Long ago, the world was nearly destroyed by a dark tyrant. This creature ravaged Earth, claiming many lives and enslaving many more. His name was Lord Azael, and he was the founder of the Nobility. To combat this evil, the High Council of Good Magic called forth twelve young warriors. It was my duty to train these twelve young warriors in order to put an end to Lord Azael and his corruption. These twelve warriors weren't just humans as you may think, but were different races. Some were elves, some were demon, some were angels and some were fae. Even dragons were enlisted, as well as beings from other universes and galaxies. These beings were the perfect candidates to teach the forbidden elemental magicks. So, I trained them in the forbidden magicks, teaching them and guiding them to one day put an end to Lord Azael."

Naja stopped speaking, looking at each of their faces to make sure they were listening before he continued.

"The High Council decreed that this group should have a name, and thus called them Mystics, protectors of Earth Realm and the Universe. After the High Council approved of this, they sent each of the mystics into battle against Lord Azael. Never before had I seen such courage. The battle raged for millennia it seemed until the twelve, who were now only four, sealed Lord Azael away forever deep inside what is now Mount Fuji. The High Council cursed me with immortality in order to keep the teachings of the mystics alive, but as years went on and my students died one by one, I became discouraged. The only students that remain are Nicolai and Laea. These two were gifted immortality because of their race. Laea is an angel, and Nicolai is a rock fae."

Naja stopped talking once again in order to gauge the groups reaction to what he was telling them.

"It was when Lord Manacia came into power over the Nobility that I began my search for the next mystics. For you see, after the first mystics, their legacy was passed down to their children, and their children's children, and their children's children's children. The tattoo that is upon each of you is not just there for show, it was passed down in your DNA. It was a way for safe passage to and from different realms as well as a way to judge friend from foe. It is my fault that the teachings of the mystics died away. I did not want to train any more students and have to watch them die whilst I lived on, and so I went into battle with Lord Manacia and his generals along with Nicolai and Laea, and after an intense battle, both sides dispersed and went underground. It has been my job for many many countless years to keep this war out of human perception. So I take the liberty of wiping clean the memories of any human who accidentally crosses over. Now, Lord Manacia is back. He is threatening to spill our existence over into the human world, but we can not let that happen. If he does, the human's will go chaotic, and the world will plunge into darkness. This is the reason I summoned you all here. Lord Manacia, Daimion, Blaidd, Suyag, and others like them are seeking out ways to enslave this world. Your families, your friends, everything will be lost if we do not stop them. I can not MAKE you choose this life, I can only lead you to it. You will have to go through immense training, your mystic magicks must be unlocked, and you will have to leave your home. There will be no turning back once you accept, but believe me when I say this. Lord Manacia and his generals will NOT stop hunting you. It will be easier for them to take over if you all are removed from the picture."

Naja stopped talking and waved his hand to remove the screen which had shown the exact events as they had happened.

"I will give you a moment to process all the information I have just delivered unto you. If you have any more questions, please ask them now or forever hold your peace."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Scarlet Lagorúthel Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii
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Life flickered in and around the eyes of Th'drago, as the dragon bore itself deep within the conscious and subconscious mind of the elf before them. Every little secret, to the most open of ideas and words were open to him; everything laid bare. From the time that he was a child, to the moment he was taken into Daimion's 'care' was absorbed into its mind, and eaten. It had found a small link between the elf and Scarlet, then, and watched as it pulsed back to her. '<Interesting,>' it whispered to Daimion, who was busy keeping the path between them open with his own magicks. 'Your other "master will be wishing to have his hands upon this one, it would seem.' At a nod from the warlock, however, the serpent sped off into the deeper reassesses of the elf's mind, corrupting it, and ultimately brainwashing him, but still kept the link between father and daughter strong. No doubt that the elf maiden could feel such a thing, and perhaps a small glimpse at the taint which was spreading through him.

The serpent had just returned, coiling itself at the base of the warlock's brain stem, when the appearance of a large bag made him groan slightly, a headache forming between his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he waited for only a brief second before, sure enough, Zarya appeared, but upon the elf's chest. Although it had been some time since his last run in with the Seductress, a spark erupted within him, and a longing desire blossomed beneath his breast. It was quickly quashed, however, by the serpent, who had growled slowly, saying, 'You have too much on your plate before you can even think about dessert.' It was the truth, even if his body had silenced itself, but a hard truth was still better than anything right now. Even though his desires for her were evident, he did not need her right now. Unfortunately for him, she kissed him after calling the elf a 'dwarf' to its face. The effect of her kiss was like fire melting the ice from his bones, making him feel more alive. He wanted her then and there, but knew it would have to wait.

'Little "Pumpkin"?' The serpent within him laughed its booming laughter, mocking him completely. The warlock cared little for the pet names the succubus had given him, only the physical exertions that would follow such meaningless foreplay. What had surprised the both of them, completely and utterly, was her bold statement of of wanting Daimion to place himself within her mouth. Only a lesser man would be helpless not to do as she had ordered, but he had far surpassed the lesser men of this world, and stood among the greatest. Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, he began to mutter to himself whilst waving his other hand at the wall behind her. A large void-portal swirled into existence, then, and shadowy hands slithered out to take the bag, along with its contents, to the pocket dimension he had constructed for her all those years ago. "They will be within your chambers," he said softly, slowly, as the portal closed.

Bending over, he gently lifted her with a single arm, cradling her close to his chest as though she were his child. In a way, some, here, would believe this to be a truth, but those who would foolishly believe so would be dooming themselves. She never did care for being treated as a child, but if she continues to act the way that she has been acting, then that is exactly how she will be treated. Several imps appeared in various forms, each chatting up at the warlock in their own respective languages. "<Peace,>" he said, quieting them down. One of the imp appeared upon his shoulder, whispering the words that the vampire lord had said to it. "Prepare his gateway, then," his reply was booming, echoing within the small enclosed space, "and drain the elf of half his blood. It shall be presented the the vampire lord upon his arrival. Afterwards, ask my lord Manacia if he will accept a gift in the form of a living body. Tell him that the one to be presented has a strong link to one of the Mystics that had escaped." He was sure it would peak his lord's interest, and at the elf's yell of pain, he grinned his most evil of grins.

"My dear Zarya," he said softly, the features upon his face had smoothed suddenly, while his magicks explored her physical form, causing small shocks here and there, "How I have missed you." A long kiss had followed his statement, before he reluctantly pulled himself away. Turning his head, still carrying her lithe form, shocking her body here and there, he walked the few metres down the corridor, and watched as one of the more magnificent gateways were being erected in the center of the chamber. It was cover in blood red rubies, signifying the fact that it was made only for vampires, but if a non-vampire were to cross it, they would be completely drained of blood by the guardians within. He had no desire to find out what those guardians were, however, because he had left that up to Suyag upon the first day of its creation. It was the same with the others, but with his master, he had taken upon himself to bind a single creature within it, another Lich King.

His attention was drawn back to the witch, however, and he whispered, "Let us retire to my personal chambers. We have some time before they complete the portal, and call for Lord Suyag to invite him here." Power arched around them, as he held her closer, reshaping the world about them into a bed chamber. The chamber had a single piece of furniture, which was made up of the highest qualities of materials, as well as encompassing most of the room. The sheets, pillows, and blankets were made up of the same iridescent cloth that he wore over his form, but the mattress itself was made up of a red fabric that would only grow softer and dryer if liquids were splashed upon it. "You are hungry, I take it." It was a statement more than a question, and he tossed her into the centre of the bed. Once her body settled, he appeared next to her in only his small clothes. "Then allow me to sate that hunger," his whisper became a slight tease, as his hand and magicks began their exploration. Soon, he would sate his own desires and lusts, but for now, he would need to prepare her for the inevitable, as it would be a while until anyone would see them again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii Character Portrait: Edzard Killian
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With lust filled eyes, the warlock stared down at the lithe figure of his lover, watching her squirm excitedly. She was one of the few females that would actually spark a human response they had called "LOVE", but that was an absurdity we would not dream upon. The woman beneath him wanted him for his body, and he needed to, had to, accept that as a reality. Eventually, she may "love" him with the human emotion, but for now, their relationship was mostly physical. His thoughts would go on, but a great roar echoed within the chamber, signalling the entrance of Lord Suyag. 'Really?' His mind questioned to himself, 'Of all the times he would announce himself, he would do so during our coupling.' The demon within his mind chuckled at his mind's words and voiced, '<You do not wish to keep the Vampire lord waiting, but you will need to greet him with something more appropriate than your small clothes.>'

The serpent was rarely wrong, however, but before he could return the jibe, Zarya had pulled his head down his a small tease and a long kiss. Daimion had long wished for her kisses to last forever, but that would mean shirking his abilities towards his ruler, and he would never do that. Sighing to himself, his eyes followed the witch as she summoned a dress for herself. 'My poor Zarya,' his mind whispered, staring with disgust upon her shattered wings, 'How they have hurt you so.' He would have taken her far from this world, after he had listened to her tales of torture by the hands of feared humans. Alas, she would not allow him to do so, and before he could voice his concern for her, she had vanished. A small chuckle escaped his lips then, causing him to vanish from the bed, only to appear next to it wearing his own clothing made up of the same iridescent material that covered the bed before him. "<Such audacity,>" he chuckled to himself, "<Oh how I do enjoy her company,>" and vanished from the room as well.

He appeared next to the seductress at the end of her trying to charm the vampire before them. His eyes rolled in their sockets at her antics, and knew it was foolish to even try and be jealous, as she would only tease him for it. She was chattering to them both when he summoned an imp to his side, "<Take item number 401163 to my estate.>" The imp bobbed its head before vanishing down a corridor, and, turning back to the two before him, he had a sinking feeling that there was an unwanted presence gaining entry. His fears were confirmed as smoke began to form in front of them, condensing itself into that of a man. Before it could form completely, he reached behind the witch, and, with a twist of his wrist, masked the imperfections that marred her back. "The awesome me is here," a groan erupted from his throat, and was echoed by the serpent, '<Why does it have to be him?>' Turning slowly, he spied the Demon of Nobility, wearing his usual German officer get-up.

"Edzard," Daimion hissed slowly, using his most thickest accent to make it sound as though he had said "lizard" instead, "Do you always have to show up without an invitation? No matter," he stood up straight, eyes become darker than pitch, and cracks had appeared upon his face. Flecks of skin drifted from it, as his canines began to elongate. If one were to look at the patches where skin had flecked away, one would see a darkness that had no name. A struggle within the giant's body soon erupted, causing him to shake and vibrate violently as he sought for control. The warlock had only one rule for everyone to follow, and had made it clear that if any were to break it, he would rain his wrath upon them. This rule even stretched towards their king, but only Zarya was not enamored by it, and that rule was a simple one to follow: Do not intrude where one is not wanted nor asked upon.

The face of the giant grew thunderous, but gradually, his skin became whole while his eyes stayed darker than pitch. "Someone always breaks my rule," he grumbled softly. With a raised hand, he said aloud, "Guards, attend to your master." The floor beneath them rumbled, as a dozen holes began to appear, and six foot tall automatons began to pour out of them. They each carried a single short sword and a silver shield with the image of a black dragon burning a temple emboldened the centre. They had surrounded him, Zarya, and Suyag protectively, but at his word, they converged on the demon, aiming their swords at him. They had encircled him then, as a massive portal erupted behind them. Two colossus stepped through the portal, one made up of pure copper, the other made up of shining steel. The one of copper had a massive whip in its hands, while the other carried a ballista in its hands. Each step they took was a small earthquake, making the warlock lift his lover into the air just as she created a portal into the human world. "My dear Zarya," he said, gently closing the portal before them, "You mustn't go there, you will only ruin your appetite." Turning to the vampire, he lowered his head slowly, "Suyag, forgive me for not greeting you properly, but we must leave this place. It has grown unpleasant," his eyes drifted over to Edzard, disgust had plainly etched its way into his facial features.

"To all present here," Daimion's voice boomed within and without the facility, "Prepare everything for mass transportation to Site Beta, and begin sequences to transport Edzard," again it sounded as though he had said 'lizard', "off site." Turning towards the colossus and the automatons he said, "When you have escorted him to his portal, transport yourselves to Site Omega for decontamination procedures." The same imp from before had appeared then, carrying two items, a dark green bottle with a red liquid sloshing inside and a silver briefcase. He thanked the imp for the two items, and took them after setting his lover back onto the floor. "Ah," he started, making the imp turn back, "Transport the elf to my Lord Manacia's castle, and explain the elf's situation towards one of the Mystics, then report to Site Beta." The imp bowed, then, allowing him to return to the pair before him, completely ignoring the other. "My apologies," he bowed low to the two, "This will not take long. Power erupted around them, focusing in the space between them, pushing outwards, until it encompassed the three of them. His own spell made certain that no other magicks would try to enter the spell he had enacted, and allowed him to transport all three of them safely to one of his many estates. "Shall we go then?" He asked it in a rhetorical fashion, as the world about them faded out.

As the world faded back, and the magicks subsided, the warlock collapsed into a chair. Sweat had beaded his forehead, and his breathing became labored. "<Gods,>" he whispered to himself, "<I need a vacation.>" Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a small kerchief, and wiped the sweat from his face. Before them laid a long table with a white silk cloth atop it. Lit candles were held in golden holders, showering the silver platters of various foods and drinks in a warm, golden glow. Beyond the candle light, however, was absolute darkness, which never bothered the warlock in the least. He stood up slowly, then, walking towards Zarya, he handed the silver briefcase to her. Leaning down, he whispered, "My gift to you, my darling succubus. A new pair of wings crafted to mirror what should have been yours." He stood up slowly, a pained look appeared upon his features, "Please," he began, "Sit and dine to your hearts content." In his hands, he held up the dark green bottle towards Suyag. "A gift suited for a lord of your standing. Fresh elven blood, over one hundred years in age. It was taken from one who is physically fit, and Italian born." He set the bottle down onto the table, and placed a silver chalice next to it. "If you will sit on my right, my lord Vampire," a golden, high backed chair, covered in blood rubies like the portal, appeared to his right, whereas an ivory chair covered in fine silks and pearls appeared on his left. "We have much to discuss, and not enough time to dally."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii Character Portrait: Edzard Killian
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#, as written by Layla
Here's the thing about Dragons: I know absolutely nothing whatsoever about them, the Queen mused, braiding her long hair of spun gold. Zarya raised a delicate brow, staring pointedly at the ferocious beast who smelled of brimstone and strangely enough, unicorns. Then again, unicorns smelled terrible, the wretched things. She'd entered her study, expecting to find racoons nestling in her books and potions, only to find this giant creature pressing its abnormally large head against her ceiling. "You are not a racoon," she said slowly.

"Nay, child. I am no wee beast," it spoke. It spoke. Well, of course it did, Zarya. What kind of self-respecting, paper-sniffing, trashcan-smelling mythical Dragon does not talk? Perhaps, more shocking than that, it had called her a child. She was not a child by any means. Not if her breasts and hips had anything to say about it.

"I am one hundred and twenty two years old," she explained curtly. The Dragon roared in short bursts - a Dragon's version of laughter, she supposed. Close enough. Settling its amusement, the Dragon looked deeply into Zarya's eyes of ocean blue, as if searching for the answers to the mysteries of the universe. And the meaning of life is: 42. It's silver scales rippled as it flexed its bulging muscles, huffing its large nostrils at the Witch. Zarya pursed her lips - she was not amused.

"Are you going to eat me?" she asked, settling for frankness.

"Is that your desire?"

"Not really, no. The Witch's Formal is coming up, and it's not going to plan itself, so this is a rather bad time for me. Can we reschedule?" Zarya took a step back, her boots sinking into the lush red carpeting of her office. She really did not wish to run in her new boots - they were really, really nice boots. Heavens, was that a fleck of dust on her babies' polished surface of ultimate beauty? Well, at least if she died today, she'd die wearing the sexiest boots in the world. She could live with that.

"There you are," a raspy voice filled with testosterone boomed. Zarya turned to watch her brother stroll into the room. Why, of course her soulless Faery brother would know the creepy white Dragon. Smoke trickled from Ivann's parted lips and Zarya found herself wondering, as per usual, why the Faery bothered to smoke when human substances like nicotine left him unaffected. Ivann dropped to one knee before Zarya, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand as he stubbed his burning cigarette in Zarya's Persian rug.

"It's called an ash tray," the Witch said gruffly.

"It's called Magic," Ivann replied with a shrug. With a snap of his fingers, the crumpled cigarette disappeared, leaving her floor ash and burn-free. He stood, ruffling his sister's hair, to her disdain. Ivann's part sister was obnoxious, narcissistic and infuriating but, admittedly, adorable; but he'd take his life before he ever called her "cute." She'd skin him alive and feed his body parts to her hounds. The Gancanagh turned to the Dragon, bowing his head respectfully. "Thank you for responding to our requests, General Loganach," he said.

"'tis not a problem, Ivann. Yer can drop de formalities, auld mucker." An Irish Dragon. Charming. General Loganach extended his left wing to pat Ivann on the back.

"Watch the-!" Zarya began, gawking as her ancient potions crashed to the floor, setting parts of her carpet aflame as it burnt holes through the wooden floor beneath, causing black smoke to rise into the ceiling. Those potions had taken her decades to find and fortunes and lives to obtain, yet they'd been so carelessly destroyed. Ah well, at least her boots were safe. Priorities, priorities.

"This is my sister, Lady Zarya Anzhelovna Liza-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm forgettin' 'er name as yer sayin' it. I 'av no patience for long Russian names such as these." General Loganach shivered, his bones rippling beneath his thick skin as he Transformed. The large figure shrunk into that of a grey-haired man dressed in blissful, ecstatic nothingness. Loganach rubbed his neck before stretching, his muscles bulging as he twisted his body about. Ivann watched Zarya watch Loganach, rolling his eyes and slipping his own shirt over his head to hand to the Dragon-human.

"I don't want to see you shirtless," Zarya complained, glaring at Ivanov. Well, at least Dragon-boy's not wearing any pants. Hey, she had a healthy appreciation for the male anatomy. As if reading her mind, Ivann pulled a pair of jeans from seemingly nowhere and handed it to the now transformed beast. Zarya growled a threat, before watching Loganach slip on his human clothes. Yes, she could get used to this. "You really must introduce me to more of these friends of yours, brother." In reply, Ivann snorted.

"What is wrong with these human curtains?" Loganoch asked with annoyance, struggling to wear the jeans over his head. Apparently his human form favoured the British accent, rather than Irish.

"Would you like some help?" Zarya purred in her thick Russian-English.

"No, he wouldn't," Ivann replied for him. God, she hated that guy. "They go over your legs, Logan."

"Ah, I see." Logan pulled the jeans over his lovely, flawless, muscled legs and wonderful, a- No, why was he clothed? Oh cruel was the world to hide such beauty. "Zari? Zoro? Zara? Zarya? Zay? Zargo?" Baby, you can call me anything.

"Zarya," Ivann stated before nudging his sister none too gently. Zarya narrowed her blue eyes at him before turning her sultry gaze to full blast, drowning Logan in her gaze.

"Zarrrrya," she purred.

Logan looked at her incredulously, then, rubbing his eyes, said, "I need my glasses." Of course, of course the Dragon had a vision impairment. Ivann pulled a pair of spectacles from his pocket and handed them to the tall, grey-haired man without a word. "Thank you, lad," Logan said, slipping on the spectacles. Did he not realise modern technology had long surpassed spectacles? One could have cameras implanted beneath their corneas if they so wished.

"General Loganach of the Fifth Ard, at your service, milady," the Dragon said, saluting towards the sky as some Dragons did.

"Oh, right now?" Zarya asked, reaching for the glowing blue circle that undid her entire dress. Ivann slapped her hand away.

"He's your new bodyguard, Zar."

"I don't need a-" He was really, really good looking. "It appears I have a sudden need for protection due to the immense growth in danger."

"I will protect you with my life, Lady Zarya," Logan said seriously. "My life is your brothers, for I owe my continuing existence to his bravery." Of course.

Two months ago, she'd met with Edzard by an ice-cream stand - which he'd found surprisingly quickly. She'd asked him if he'd planned to join Suyag in his war against humanity, to which he'd simply said "Yes." Zarya had replied with a vague "Okay," before disappearing to some ungodly, underground fighting ring. She'd been doing nothing but gathering people and information for the past two months, as well as spreading them about to wherever she saw fit. She'd spent unladylike amounts of time in drug-induced trances and in the beds of countless men and women. She'd not spoken to Daimion or Edzard in the past two months, although she'd sent "messengers" to stalk them "for their own protection." It was all a load of unicorn fur, and she knew, they knew it for what it was. She did not wish to confront Daimion on his feelings, nor did she wish to know of Edzard's. At least, that's what she tried to distract herself with. She'd spoken to Lord Manacia and Suyag a handful of times - mostly to report on the progress of her Witches and Warlocks and to sing, "Praise the Nobility!" Only one politician had killed himself out of desperation for her touch in the past two months. It was an improvement from a dozen a week. She'd been "busy," and no one could argue that she was not doing her job. She bedded and manipulated - it was in her job description.

No, really, it was.

The Mystics had been causing quite a bit of trouble for the Nobility - she did not mind. "It's fun," she'd explained when asked what she thought of the destruction of her "plans." Zarya was lighthearted, perhaps too much so and besides, she liked Naja the Creeper. An old man who could read minds - who didn't want that? She hoped to meet him in person one day, and meet him she would. In fact, she might materialise in his shower, dressed as a potato.

Because that would definitely get him going.

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura
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The sound of screams could be heard as the atmosphere in Manacia's throne room became quite unbearable. The very ground seemed to shake softly as a portal appeared, dark and crackling with power. Out stepped a figure as menacing as any being could be. A smile crept onto the man's face as he ran a hand through his red hair.

"Lord Manacia, I trust all is well in your venture?......." the man said as guards flooded from various places to stop him, "oh my, is this any way to treat a high elder Manacia?"

The guards glared at the man not sure what to say or do.

"Enough of this, excuse your guards before they make a grave mistake Alisarrian."

The guard's eyes flared open with surprise as the man continued to step towards Lord Manacia. It was then that they made a grave mistake and attacked Angel. It didn't last long, in fact before they could even land an attack, their souls were ripped from their body and added to the collective. Angel sighed and looked up at Lord Manacia.

"Alisarrian, I would've thought you would've trained your guards better than this, but then again I also wonder WHY the High Elder decided to put this mission in your hands. Nonetheless, I am here for a progress report. Have you accomplished anything since being sent here?"

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura
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Angel had simply smiled and smirked as Manacia threatened him. It made no difference to Angel, this was nearly fun to him. He had been sent by the Dark Order to check on Lord Manacia's progress and to make sure everything was running as planned. Still, Angel shook his head, as even the lich's subordinates weren't even following along with his plans. This made Angel very insistent on meeting these subordinates, the ones Manacia called the Nobles. With a smile, Angel walked closer to his "friend" and sighed. When he mentioned the renewing of the mystics, Angel's eyes blazed with anger as he exhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

"Come now Manacia, you and I both know your phylactery is the only thing keeping you clung to this realm, and you know the Dark Order knows its whereabouts, so it would be best to keep your threats to yourself."

Angel walked around Manacia, his hand playfully held behind his own back.

"The Mystic have returned, but as you say it I am not surprised. That meddlesome Naja was bound to bring them back at some point. Nonetheless I expect great things from you Manacia. I not only want you to destroy the human's hope and morale, but I want you to eradicate them. Do I make myself clear Manacia?"

Angel turned and headed back towards the portal he had created, "and do not underestimate Naja. He is just as powerful as you are, and just as deadly. Don't concern yourself with your generals, or your nobles as you call them. I shall fetch them for you."

A sick grin spread on Angel's face as he said those words. This would give him time to encounter each of them and see what they were made of. It would be a marvelous sight to behold. The look on their faces when they realized one of the High Elders had descended to check on things.

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Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Chen YanYu
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"<Two months,>" Daimion growled at his assembled troops of Imps, Automatons, and Colossi, "<Two months of raids, of skirmishes, of destruction, and for what?>" A clawed hand smashed a hole in the stone and steel wall beside him, causing a small avalanche of gravel to cascade upon his bare arm. In the two months that he was gone, he had begun to breed an army for his maniacal "Lord Manacia". He spat upon the wall next to the hole, growling curses at the stars above. The warlock had grown weary of all the constant struggle, and, instead, looked for another way to end it all. A peaceful way, one where he an his daughter could live together as a family. "<His daughter,>" he chuckled to himself, then. He didn't know he had offspring until an errant hair strand of hers was found, and a DNA test was conducted. Originally, they had wanted to use the DNA they had collected to track and make them subservient to the Nobles, but upon realizing that one of their number was of his blood, he had scratched that project.

It had been painstakingly difficult to make sure the Lich King was not made aware of this new development, along with his more secretive plans of speaking to Naja. When he had first approached a border that was protected by the Psychic Mystic, he was attacked by the age old Mystic of Light, causing the giant to retreat at various times. Even when he spoke earnestly that he only wished to speak, it had called him a "Liar" and a "Murderer", lashing out at him with death and destruction. This had caused the warlock to become tired of its games, and instead, called upon the most powerful of all his magicks to slam it into the ground, imprisoning it beneath a monstrous claw. "Listen to me," his voice thundered throughout the heavens, "You will summon Naja to the Queen of Twilight's court for a meeting between two parties. He is to bring Chen YanYu with him, and I shall bring my personal Colossus. Do you understand me?" Then he was gone, as his message was to be relayed back to his intended person.

However, it was not to be that easy. Everywhere he went, whether it be in the public eye of humanity, or around his personal homes on the Isle of Crete, he was attacked by unseen forces that were supporters of the Mystics. He had thought of them as nothing more than nuisances in the beginning, but that had changed when they raided one of his more public of warehouses. It was one where he had developed medicines to fight cancer, and they destroyed it all. This had enraged him, causing his entire body to change permanently. He was more draconic, now. Gone was his human side, and in its place, power. Th'drago had indeed promised him an end to his human side, but it had taken it almost a millennium for the promise to be delivered. '<How will Zarya react to my form?>' Was his question since the transformation had occurred. It was troubling, to be sure, but he had no idea as to how she would react. Fear? Disappointment? These had made him wonder.

Turning back towards his gathered army, Daimion whispered, "Prepare the gateway to the Queen of Twilight's territory." Calls soon rang out across the land, as a massive portal covered in runes and sigils was raised in an open field. The portal was as tall as a colossus, and as wide as a legion of automatons, if they were standing abreast by fifteen. Many imps of various races chattered in their own languages, alighting the runes and sigils until it began to glow even brighter than the sun. However, that light began to wane until it was only a dull light. Within the expanse of the portal, the brilliance of the light that had shown along the the outside, was now being used to create a mirror image of the world behind him. However, when looking upon the mirrored world more closely, one can see that it is more of a twisted reflection. "<Keep the portal open,>" he called out to all around him, "<And keep the forces of the Mystics from damaging it. I do not wish to become stuck within that land.>" He turned, suddenly, to an imp that handed him his twin daggers. Instead of belting the pair on, he only took up Terratuul, as it was more neutral than the other.

Belting that one on, he held up both of his arms, hands palm out, and chanted in an archaic form of Greek. Instantly, a large circle containing a multitude of lettering's and lines appeared before them, causing the dagger to sing as he unsheathed it. "<Arise Shi'gren, your master has need of you once more.>" The blade then began to wail a terrible song, as he cut the palm of his left hand, spilling it upon the edge of the circle. A hand as wide as he was tall, erupted from the ground, pushing the monstrous form of an ancient colossus out of the ground. It rumbled, and roared, shaking gravel off of its shoulders as it knelt before the warlock. He began to climb its form, then, until resting near its ear. "<Let us go, Shi'gren,>" he roared to it, "<To the land of Twilight. To the land of my father, the king of Daemons, neutral to all of the world's happenings.>" It was then that he had spied the messenger of his king, a shadowed being, racing towards him. No doubt he was being summoned, but he could not answer that call. He was on a mission, and needed it done so that his plans can be furthered more.

Stepping through the portal had caused the form of the warlock to change. Gone was his draconic form, and in its place, a golden knight stood standing upon the colossus's shoulders. "<The land of my father,>" he whispered to himself, "<The land where legends come to rest.>" The tales of the Court of Twilight was that they were neutral to all happenings of the world, and stood by it by enacting a null seal upon its borders. It is said that all magicks, great or small, were made inert, in that they were made vulnerable to everything used upon them. However, all weapons brought into this place were sealed within their holsters, whereas those that were out upon entering, could not enter without being sheathed. Thus was the ruling of the Queen of Twilight, and thus it shall be forevermore. They were nearing the castle, however, ghostly men on horses rode up to them. "We have been waiting," their voices, hollow and empty, called up to him, "Come, she is waiting for you." They galloped away, then, while the colossus rumbled after them.

They came upon the castle gate, then, where the colossus had stepped over it, and knelt low within the courtyard, allowing Daimion to dismount it with ease. "Daimion," came a haunting call, causing the warlock to look up to see the ghostly image of himself wearing the exact same armour as he, standing upon the top of the steps looking down on him. "My son, it is good to see you."

"My son", those words caused him to flinch visibly, but he had recovered quickly enough. "Hello again, sir," he said slowly, "I am here to ask-"

"We know," came a voice, followed by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. Daimion's eyes widened, and his mouth gaped at her, to which she smiled, then giggled behind a hand. Quickly, he composed himself, bowing low to the Queen of Twilight, mumbling "my lady" beneath his breath. "We are well aware of your desire to end this war." Her voice was as though the heavens had opened up, letting sunshine dry up the newly fallen spring rain. "And we agree. For now, come with us, as we wait for Naja to appear." He then ascended the steps, and wondered at the sights and sounds of the castle hall.

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii
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#, as written by Layla
"What is this?" Logan asked incredulously, staring at the wall with a knob. He poked at the gap between the wall and its frame, attempting to wiggle it from its hinges. It was such a strange contraption.

"It's a door, Logan," Ivann explained patiently.

Zarya laughed. "Haha, oh Heavens, oh God, stop it," she breathed, grasping her abdomen as she doubled over in fits of laughter.

"I don't understand," Logan said, his brows furrowing in puzzlement.

"It's a door. You open it." To demonstrate, Logan walked over and turned the sphere-shaped knob - the wall opened. The Shifter jumped back in surprise, bending his limbs in preparation for an attack. "You just turn this," Ivann explained, closing the door and turning the handle again. "And it opens," he said, pulling the door open once again.

"What is this Magic and who is its abominable Sorceress?" The grey-haired man took a cautious step back, fully expecting the "door" to implode.

"This crazy thing called wood and this ferocious creature called a carpenter," Zarya said in between laughs. Ivann narrowed his eyes, throwing her a warning glance which she dismissed with a well-practiced cackle. "I have to show Manic-Manny this. He'll flip!"

"You will do no such thing. Logan is a respected General, not a new toy of your distasteful collection," Ivann said sternly. Unlike himself, his sister used her powers carelessly, seducing and manipulating for her own entertainment. She held none of the responsibilities he did as the Dark Queen's right wing Fae. Her lack of registered citizenship meant that the rules of the Fae world and its creatures did not apply to her. She was ultimately the most reckless, immature and dangerous Gancanagh in history and admittedly, also the cutest. Zarya was horrible, selfish, unthinking and childish but she was just so cute. As if to emphasise his thoughts, Zarya popped a lollipop into her mouth - the useless things she used her Magic for - and curled her crimson lips into a kitten-like smile. If Ivann had a spoon, he would just eat her.

"Let's go!" Zarya announced cheerfully, bouncing on her feet as she pulled a crystal sphere from her shelf. She shook it furiously, thinking of Lord Manacia's sulking figure as she did. In a nauseating blur, they appeared before Lord Manacia's imposing fortress. The building gleamed dangerously as it towered over the three figures at the foot of it. Logan pursed his lips, staring at the tall monstrosity. It was impossible difficult to resist the urge to Transform into a Dragon and curl his large body around the castle spire.

Zarya tapped her lower lip as she stared at the heavy wooden doors - "How will we enter?"

"It's called a door," Ivann said as he reached forward to nudge the doors open. Of course, why would Lord Manacia require a lock? Not only was his fortress in the middle of nowhere, it was also horrifically frightening with its clouds of inky darkness and aura of pure evil. There were only two sorts of creatures who would enter his domain: those that were unfathomably powerful, those who were idiots or those who wished to die in the worst possible way. Okay, that was three. It was not her fault if she was no good with numbers - only engineers knew how to add two and one. What did that even make? Twenty-one?

Slipping past her brother to enter the dark fortress, Zarya skipped cheerfully through the gloomy halls.

"Why is she so cheerful?" Logan whispered to Ivann.

"She has boobs," Ivann said and Logan nodded as if that explained everything. Honestly, the humans were tainting Ivann's pure Fae tongue with strange words such as "boobs" and "Yoda." Wait, they meant the same thing, right?

"Manny!!!" Zarya sing-songed, twirling as she burst into the room which contained the leader of the Nobility. She'd never been the most formal but this was an entirely new level of obnoxiously happy, even for her. "Look what I fou-" The Witch caught sight of the addition of another dark creature who did not look like an imp, no siree. "-ound..." she trailed off.

Well, this was awkward.

Zarya gawked at the hooden creature that oozed power - lord, what was wrong with his fashion sense? It appeared Lord Manacia had also acquired a new freakishly frightening - although strangely arousing - form. Although, she would've gone for a more forest green rather than limestone green, it simply did not do his undead bone parlour any favours. As Zarya scrutinised the two creatures' fashion choices, Ivann studied the creature who was not Manacia carefully. His power was rather electric and distracting and Ivann found himself distrusting him immediately. The Fae cared not for human authority or the politics of their paranormal worlds - the Dark Order mattered not to him as they mattered not to his Queen. But he could sense a formidable opponent when he was near one and this dark creature was not a mere page boy. Manacia's body language further proved this; it was quite possible that the cloaked stranger was of higher rank than even the leader of the Nobility. Ivann inclined his head a fraction of a centimetre, as close to anything a Fae of his rank would do to acknowledge the presence of someone of power. It was the equivalent of a respectful handshake in the Fae realms.

Meanwhile, Logan was opening and closing, opening and closing, one of Manacia's doors. These contraptions were so strange.

"What are those dreadful shoes?" Zarya asked in the end, settling for what mattered most: this creature's change of wardrobe. His cloak alone was at least a millennium out of fashion. "You are in desperate need of a trim, oddly attractive, although horrifically unfashionable Mermaid."

Ivann stared past the far right hand corner of the room so his eyes would have something to do as his mind wandered to more interesting topics as he said, "He's a High Elder."

"Well, damn." Zarya assessed the figure before her with new eyes - suddenly, his shoes looked so much more fitting. Isn't this wonderfully awkward? The Witch of the Nobility wondered what she was to do before curtsying demurely. Well, as demurely as a few strips of cloth for a dress could be. She moved her slim legs in a way that drew one's attention to her immensely classy boots. For the second time that day, Zarya wondered if she was going to die and decided she death dressed the way she was would not be so bad, after all. They were a fantastic pair of boots.

"Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii, Witch of the Nobility, at your bed- on your bed- in your bed- I mean, nowhere near it," she corrected hastily. Ivann rolled his eyes, internally smacking his head against the wall.

"She means 'at your service,'" Ivann said.

"No, I don-" Zarya began before cutting herself off when Ivann hovered his foot over her pristine boots. "You wouldn't!" she gasped.

"Oh yes I would, young, inexperienced, abnormally female Gancanagh," the blonde man said, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow on his perfect face. God, she hated him.

"What is this?" asked Logan from a distance, pressing a button that switched off the lights of the room. "HELP! I'M BLIND!" he yelled frantically. Ivann sighed, turning the lights back on with a snap of his fingers. "It's called electricity, General Loganach," he explained as if he were speaking to a child. Not technically, he was. Logan nodded, satisfied, returning to the fascinating door he opened and closed repeatedly.

"So, well, I guess we're done here! Ha. Ha. Ha," Zarya laughed nervously, taking a step back from the High Elder. Perhaps he was a mind reader as Naja was rumoured to be - she did not wish to find out. Think sad thoughts and distract him with it, she told herself. Unicorns, unicorns, unicorns, she repeated, thinking of the horrible-smelling, terrible-looking, overly-happy monstrosities. "Well, it's late!" It was eight in the morning. "Guess we'd better get going. Pizza to devour, unicorns to assassinate, toads to talk to - all that jazz, you know? It's that time of the month where... Squirrels. Talk."

"But you said you were free the whole day," Logan added helpfully.

"Light travels faster than sound - that's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak," Zarya mumbled.

Haha, irony. God, she was funny.

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned
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For the last two months Suyag had been working nonstop. Some of the vampire lords raved that he was spending to much while others prepared with exitment for what was to come. Already he had spent 2.5 trillion US dollars. He had been gathering private militaries across the globe as well as gaining alliances with smaller countries. Many Asian and African Nations have been secretly alligned with him, sending out their navy to block trade routes as well as blockade certain cities. Almost one third of the money spent was used to mass produce the serum that Damion had given him.

The vampire nation had been massively recruiting new members to it's ranks. Normally it recruited a thousand a month but now it was increased to tens of thousands. That still was not enough, though that was why the nobilty had to stand together on this issue. Vampires backing profit and night soldiers, werewolves guiding soldiers, Demon spys, magical utilies, both human and undead armies to support them. Even with all that they would still be outnumbered. That was why when they attacked they had to hit them hard. Upon his thoughts a shade from Lord Manacia came to him. The lich wanted to call the coucil. So Suyag walked into the shadows of his palace to travel through the dark planes in order to get to Manacia's palace. He arrived iinside the entrance within a few minutes.

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii
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Angel turned when he felt the presence of another enter Manacia's estate.

"Hmm, I might as well sit here and wait then," Angel stated firmly as he stood and waited for the individuals to appear.

It annoyed him to no end when he saw the creature that entered into his vision. The sight of her disgusted him beyond belief. The clothes she wore let alone the way she carried herself made him more annoyed. He crossed his arms and watched her, listening to all she had to say, commenting on his looks and how he dressed. He looked at Manacia and shook his head.

"Is this how your subordinates act? No wonder you aren't getting anything done."

He turned to Zarya and walked slowly over to her, moving a strand of her hair from her face before his hand gripped her throat tightly.

"Witch, it would be wise not to anger me. There is a meeting to be held here," he said tightening his grip, "and if you are to be a part of this unorganized group of villains, you are going to stay put."

He tossed the female to the side and looked at her "brother" and the one who was clearly new to being "human".

"This just WILL NOT do. You all treat this as some sort of game and I will NOT tolerate insubordination. I am holding YOU accountable Alisarrian for this unruly behavior."

Angel glared at Manacia and sighed, "but then again I will punish them myself."

His eyes shot straight to Zarya, but he did not say a word as he felt the presence of another.

"You called and slowly they come. This surely will not do. My subordinates come without hesitation."

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii
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#, as written by Layla
"Well, isn't he delightful?" Zarya mumbled, rubbing her sore neck. At least she'd not crashed into the wall - finally, those acrobatic classes had come to use. She smirked at Lord Manacia's counter-threat, then shook her head in disapproval. She much preferred keeping a low profile - well, not including modelling for Playboy Magazine - and allowing others to toss her around. Zarya is weak, Zarya is good. Zarya loves her masters as she should. Zarya is clever, Zarya is small. Zarya is nothing, nothing at all. Zarya is powerless, Zarya is dumb. Zarya's inferior and is too frail to harm. The Witch pulled her power deeper into her core, binding them with a thousand ropes of duct tape to keep them from escaping.

"WHERE IS THAT INSUFFERABLE WARLOCK?!" Lord Manacia boomed. Zarya bower her head, letting her blonde hair cascade over her shoulder to shield her smirk. Her glamour stayed firmly in place, rendering her iridescent wings of sunset-crimson non-existent, her golden hair a human blonde and her silver eyes like moonlit orbs, blue. Other Fae and some more powerful and gifted individuals would be able to see through her glamour. A Fae's true form was painfully dazzling, making those who were weaker wish to throw themselves at the Faerie's feet and beg for forgiveness. They were Gods in their own right and a terrible, terrible beauty.

Ivann leaned against a wall, his pitch black eyes flecked with silver like stars in a galaxy flicking over the High Elder's figure. He blinked slowly, familiarising himself with the creature's patterns of power and braiding them into what he already knew. Angel, that was the name it went by. He found the fight between Lord Manacia and Angel rather... Cute. He did not, however, find Angel's tossing of his sister cute in the least. For a brief spark of a moment, he'd considered winding strings of Winter around the creature, of pulling it taught and slicing the thing to pieces. It was a reckless thought and it did not obey logic - it appeared his sister was making him rather volatile and un-Fae-like.

More than anything, he disliked the way Angel had called her 'Witch.' It was deeply offensive and impossibly inaccurate. It was true, Zarya was only a quarter Fae but Fae blood was stronger than anything else, overruling most other lineage. He disliked the dirty creatures of this bleak Earth and he would sooner take Zarya to the Faerie realms and keep her there for an eternity but he'd promised to give her the choice. "It will make her more sympathetic to our kind," the Queen's advisor had said. Still, Zarya was no mere Witch - she was barely even Witch, although she did not yet know that. He'd get around to telling her she was more a quarter Witch than a quarter Gancanagh some day, some time... Probably never. Looking at her true form that glowed so radiantly beneath her disguise now, he knew with a certainty that she belonged to the Fae and their realms. She was a sunflower in a rose garden and a rift of light in the empty darkness of the Earth. Her glowing, sparkling blood that tasted of honey and smelled of vanilla and otherworldly flowers was further proof of that.

She did not belong here.

The Shapeshifter, Logan, had inched closer to Zarya after Angel's show of careless and unnecessary power. He now tucked Zarya behind him so her back was to the wall, as he watched Lord Manacia and the High Elder wearily. He sniffed the air, cringing at the bittersweet taste of Vampire. He was aware of whom the High Elder was and bowed respectfully, although he made no efforts to lower his head and disguise his distrust. He shielded Ivann's sister's body with his own, knowing he'd sooner die than allow her to be harmed again. He'd been so distracted by the accursed wall that was named a "door" that he'd not noticed the High Elder's growing violence of thought towards Zarya.

Meanwhile, the Witch was smirking, subtly appraising Logan's well-toned back and the muscles that rippled beneath his blissfully tight shirt as he moved. But, although he meant well and his back was easy on the eyes, he was also significantly tall and he was blocking Zarya's view of Lord Manacia and the creepy High Elder - the Creep, that would be his name. Zarya stepped a little to the side, so Logan's body only shielded a part of hers. Honestly, the Creep treated his "subordinates" as if they were mere cattle. She was much too shapely and attractive to be a cow. She was more of an adorable kitten.

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Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii
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Angel looked at the towering Manacia and simply shrugged.

"Suit yourself, I'm merely a messenger, and you will do well to remember that. Just as quickly as you were placed in this position can it be taken away from you and you be ripped asunder and reaped. Your idle threats mean nothing to me Manacia, but I have grown tired of talking to you. Summon the rest of your pathetic underlings immediately. The Dark Order wishes to know what they plan to do to assist you in your 'great' conquest."

Angel sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked over at the girl who called herself the Nobility Witch. Such insubordination would be punished and Angel would see to it. He could not attack them full outright, but he would have to get permission from the Dark Order to take steps of punishment. There were certain laws that they had to follow and Angel was not above them, though he enjoyed twisting them to his benefit. He smirked at Alisarrian and simply walked over to the head of the U shaped table.

"Your subordinates really do need more training Manacia. I'm just saying...."

Angel winked playfully at Manacia while waiting for the others to arrive.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Naja Nato DeLotus Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Chen YanYu
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The long hall had enveloped the warlock in a warm embrace, as he had found a seat at a small table near the queen's throne. There was nothing extravagant about it, as it was made up of maple wood with some iron bands for extra support. He had positioned himself at the edge of the table, furthest from the queen and her co-ruler. It was not to be disrespectful, far from it, it was only that he needed to be alone in his thoughts for a time. However, before his concentration could be established, it was shattered by the presence of King Arthus, who had sat down in front of him."So," he began slowly, taking in the golden knight's form, "So, Daimion, why do you wish to put an end to the war?"

There it was, that question he had been trying to answer so perfectly within the confines of his brain. He had tried to come up with a reason for himself for the last two months, and can only come up with a weak answer. "Because I am a healer, not a fighter, sir. I may have the position of 'Warlock of Nobility', but I have yet to call upon the destructive magicks that are at my beck and call." The king looked as though he were to speak, then, bu he cut him off with a single wave of a gauntleted hand. "The one time that I had used it was when Chenguang perished, and nothing before, nor after." The glint in his eyes glared fiercely at the king, daring him to contradict the words spoken before him.

The king merely sighed heavily, before placing his sword upon the table before him, causing the other to flinch and repeat the same motion with his own dagger. "I see you still carry Terratuul with you," he said, trying to make small talk, but only received a grunt as a reply. "Where is Shin'ran? You normally have both with you."

"You know damn well I cannot bring Shin'ran into this land, Arthus," a small sneer escaped the giant's lips, then, "This land is neutral to all other lands, and Shin'ran is the epitome of Chaos. At least Terratuul is more neutral of the pair, and even then, it was difficult to bring it into these lands." The old king seemed to become deflated, causing him to twitch slightly, mentally kicking himself for a fool. The man before him was his father, so why was he acting this way towards the Daemon? '<Because he is the one who caused you to become part of the Nobility in the first place.>' It hit him like an anvil, then, as the eyes behind the visor flared crimson, causing the old king to shirk away from him. Guards began to pour out of nowhere, surrounding Daimion, pointing their spiritual weapons at him, telling him to stand down. The light never faded from his eyes, but his back did become straighter, muscles relaxing a bit, while his gauntleted hands held up his helmeted head.

"From the time that I was birthed into this world, until the day that I became a Noble, you instilled..." He shook his head, then, "No, 'beaten into me' would be a better term for what you did. You've beaten into me the ideas of 'honor, integrity, and chivalry'. My days were filled with learning's of magick, while my nights were filled of you beating those three ideas into my skull. I've resented you for that, you know?" The warlock stood up then, and began to pace back and forth, within the ring of guards that were soon disappearing back to their posts. "I've resented you for many ideas, but I came to understand why you did it. Tell me, do you remember the start of this damnable war? I do not, but I do know how I came to join it, and it was because of your teachings that I was integrated into their side of the war.

I had just learned how to summon Colossi, and had taken about five of them with me on a short patrol around my home by the sea, when there came a horrendous sound of many explosions. Naturally, I was curious, and took all five with me to see what must be seen." He began to stare at the space above the king when he continued with, "Know what I saw? Two unknown beings attacking an injured individual." His stare became a glare, then, "You taught me that I should defend the weak, and I did so. I sent my Colossi in to defend the fallen individual, and used my own magicks to heal him. Little did I know about the two sides, but this one was grateful, and invited me to join his side. He had explained that the other side was called 'Mystics', whereas he was a 'Noble'. Had you been there, I would never had joined them, but I was furious when he went on to explain that they were halting the progression of the world, and wanted everything to stay in the Dark Age that it was currently in.

Do you remember what you did when you found out, Arthus?" The warlock hissed softly, "You tried to steal me away from that group, right after I had sworn myself into their group. I became known as the 'Hound of Lord Manacia', always following his orders to the letter, never straying so much as an inch. When you came, you came with fury, attacking the others, only to stop when I had appeared. I wounded you, then, not only physically, but emotionally. You tried to warn me, but I was a fool then, and refused to listen to you. It wasn't until after I had met Chenguang, that I had wanted a way out of all this fighting and killing, but I had sworn to Manacia that I would obey him, and could not go against it. Did you know, Arthus, that you now have a granddaughter?" The Daemon King's head whipped towards him, surprise etched plainly upon his features, while the other merely nodded. "Yes, that was my reaction as well, but she is a Mystic, now, and will most likely be joining us. You can meet her then."

"Does she..?" The king began.

"...know about me being her father?" Finished Daimion, who shrugged and shook his head, "I have no knowledge of that, sir, but she is my reason for wanting to find a more peaceful outcome to all of this fighting." He had removed his right gauntlet, then, and peered at the skeletal serpent tattoo upon his flesh. "I want this gone," he said slowly, "I would like to take my offspring far from this world of fighting, and live out the rest of our lives in relative peace. However," he replaced the gauntlet back onto his hand and forearm, "However, I fear that the only way to have this removed is by forswearing my oath to Lord Manacia, and, instead, swearing it to the Mystics. I shall, instead, leave that up to my daughter when she appears." A coarse rumble echoed throughout the land, then, causing his mind to shit towards the colossus outside. '<Go,>' he ordered it with his mind, '<Defend the portal with the others.>'

Small earthquakes erupted around the castle, signifying that the creature was moving away from the castle proper. "What-" began Arthus, whose question was waved away by Daimion. "He has gone to protect my portal into this land. It seems that the supporters of the Mystics are growing bolder, but can they last against my Shigren?" His eyes took on a faraway look, then, "No, of course they will not. No one survives the wrath of one such as he."

Shoving his hand into the open air, the warlock pulled out a plain wooden flute. Turning, he said simply, "I wish to be alone with my thoughts now, please," and began to play one of the many songs upon it. As the old Daemon king turned to leave, he could not help, but notice his son's eyes brimming with tears as he played the notes upon the flute.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Blaidd Drewg Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii Character Portrait: Edzard Killian
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#, as written by Layla
Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii


'Shall I continue with the vampire's agenda or has all this time been wasted? There is yet a day for change, but then the entirety of wolf-kind wound demand explanation and something else so hunt and kill,' spoke the familiar voice of Blaidd in Zarya's mind. Zarya kept her face neutral, shielding any sign of change. Ivann watched her from his peripheral vision, sensing the slight, minuscule change in his sister's breathing.

Zarya had been feeling Blaidd's adrenaline rushing through her this entire time, his emotions and thoughts as familiar as her own. Sometimes, it was difficult for her to differentiate his thoughts and feelings from hers. It was difficult to know where she ended and where she began. The abruptness of the thoughts was always a big indicator, though. Zarya didn't wish for Blaidd to attack, didn't wish for anyone to attack. If everyone perished, whom would she rule over? But could she trust Blaidd enough? He was her familiar, after all. But the Werewolf was wherever money was. His loyalties lied with the wealthy, not with her. Although, her abundance of information and plethora of wealth didn't hurt things, either. Zarya kept her thoughts shielded from her Familiar, the wall she surrounded herself in ever intact.

Looking at Angel and his impatience, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and found something better. An idea. 'Don't attack,' she whispered in Blaidd's mind. Her soft, breathless voice slipping through his consciousness to caress his being, urging him to listen, even though she knew he world. 'The High Elder, Angel and Lord Manacia request your presence.' Pausing, she added, 'a.k.a. They're throwing people across rooms whilst whining about your lack of attendance. Come quick.'

Closing her eyes for a long blink, Zarya reached into the golden threads that tied Blaidd to her. Curling her mind's fingers around them, she tugged gently and whispered in her Familiar's mind, 'Follow this pull. If you'd like - and I hope you'd like - just think of me and you will appear by my side.'

Zarya opened her eyes and just then, Edzard burst into the room. Embers fluttered from his body as he announced his presence with a, "The great Edzard has arrived!" Zarya snickered as Edzard took off his Nazi hat and bowed, taking Zarya's dainty hand and kissing the back of her palm. "My lady," he whispered before looking up into Zarya's drowning eyes. Yes, if he looked too long, he would lose himself in them. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood and turned to Lord Manacia and - "Angel," Edzard acknowledged with a raised brow.

Turning to assess the room, he found Zarya's Faerie brother leaning against a pillar and staring into whatever the Fey stared at so intently. They truly did have warped perceptions of time. Days were mere minutes to the Fey. Sweeping his eyes over the room once again, Edzard stared at the strange, grey haired boy opening and closing doors. Based on how he occasionally glanced over at Zarya and flinched every time anyone came near her, he must've been hers. "What strange company you keep, my loveliest," he said to Zarya. Walking briskly over to Lord Manacia, he reluctantly dropped to one knee. "My Lord," his low voice said before he stood. The silly Warlock was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. This meant Zarya was completely his, for once.

He'd been gathering his army for the past two months, forming tactics and brutally retraining them. The Nobility would win this war, not those petty humans and their so-called Mystics. No one could or would defeat him. He was Edzard Killian, the greatest creature to ever walk the Earth. This war would prove that.

Zarya, meanwhile, untangled the strings which tied her to others - thanks to her Gancanagh nature, there were many - and held the bright blue string that tied her to Daimion. She trailed her fingers over it, so Daimion would be able to feel her fingers trailing down his spine wherever he was. 'Where are you?' she asked. 'The High Elder and Lord Manacia are growing impatient.' She just wished to have this done and over with. Angel and Manacia were boring her half to death. She had people to seduce, people to sleep with, clothes to shop for and nails to be done. Armani and Guess were much more interesting that the two demonic creatures before her.

Turning her head towards Edzard, she gave him a slow smile. She'd wrap them around her fingers, one by one. She'd do it so, perhaps, when the time came - they would not kill her. Or at least, make her death quick and short. But Zarya had made her decisions and this was hers. She knew the consequences but if it'd be the last and only selfless thing she'd done in her life, this would be it. The humans and Mystics would win, with her help.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Blaidd Drewg Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii Character Portrait: Edzard Killian
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"Hold," Blaidd announced on all channels, "it would seem there's an executive meeting going on that could impact the job." With that he accepted Zarya's pull and as she said, he was beside her in...wherever they were. Sure it's rather rude to arrive at such a high level meeting with other Nobles and creatures of stature in combat armor. But everyone knew werewolves were warriors, bottom feeders and mercenaries of the worst sort, such soft thing as luxury did not exist for them.

"My attendance as has been requested," he let his voice rumble. "If at all possible I'd like to enjoy myself this evening so let's make this quick." Until he figured out if his mistress' orders on holding the attack were permanent, he intended to have his fun. Then again his current job was a major change of world dynamics...exactly the kind of thing that demanded meetings like this. If anything, he'd been lucky enough to get all his forces back without having to supply any refunds. But that still didn't mean that his kind would be fine without getting their war. One way or another blood will be spilled this night, he just had to ensure it wasn't his own.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alisarrian "Lord Manacia" Timura Character Portrait: Daimion "Th'Drago" Shadowsoul Character Portrait: Suyag Deaslamoaned Character Portrait: Blaidd Drewg Character Portrait: Zarya Anzhelovna Lizavetskii Character Portrait: Edzard Killian
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Suyag walked through the large complex at a slow pace. Though others were waiting for him they would have to wait more while he took his sweet ass time. The hallways were so empty that each step made an echo further down. Eventually he arrived at the meeting room where it seemed that everyone was now at. For the first time in months he smiled for all the pieces would soon be put together. Supernatural assassins, spies, commanders, and soldiers would be joined into one glorious army if this meeting went accordingly.

"It is nice to see you again Manacia." Suyag said with a slight nod to his head. None of them needed to be addressed by their titles in private, especially among other lords. He looked around the room plesantly to see the others who would would possibly support the war. Though ultimately it all comes down to whether or not Manacia supports it or not. "Now that I am here. What is this meeting for?" He asked though it was rather obvious.