The Multiverse

The Boiling Plains

14 INK

a part of The Multiverse, by Remæus.

A violently desolate landscape, war torn by constant battles of the past as shown by the battlescars the blackened earth holds. Remnants of vehicles and equipment lay scattered and the occasional scavenger bird can be seen in the gloomy sky.

Nyxeth holds sovereignty over The Boiling Plains, giving them the ability to make limited changes.
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Ylanne, Patcharoo, and lostamongtrees are listed as curators, giving them final say over any conflict & the ability to clean up mistakes.
Maestro, LawOfTheLand, HolyJunkie, Prose, TheNoremac42, LookingAtPerks, NeverEndingFlip, Fishbucket, and fractaloop are builders, granting them the ability to shape the world and alter sovereignty.

Setting

A violently desolate landscape, war torn by constant battles of the past as shown by the battlescars the blackened earth holds. Remnants of vehicles and equipment lay scattered and the occasional scavenger bird can be seen in the gloomy sky.

The Boiling Plains

A violently desolate landscape, war torn by constant battles of the past as shown by the battlescars the blackened earth holds. Remnants of vehicles and equipment lay scattered and the occasional scavenger bird can be seen in the gloomy sky.

Minimap

The Boiling Plains is a part of The Wastelands.

2 Places in The Boiling Plains:

56 Characters Here

Lightning [33] The main character from Final Fantasy XIII.
Rowen Maric [30] The last Ranger.
Zephyr Howaitoraion [22] Psychotic Demon
James Velekost [22] He looks young, with a cold grim expression ever present upon his face.
Kyodai [17] A super Vampire that is over 60,000 years old...that...acts like he's a mere child.
Clarice Akakios [14] A wandering warrior trying to find redemption. However, she is finding that the hardest person to seek forgiveness from is herself.
Sayyid [12] Oracle. Shaman. Oathbreaker.
Irakai [11] An imp from the shadow realm

Start Character Here »


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Irakai

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She nods. "I know. But still. I travel at night most of the time. I can only move with another light worlder during the day, by hiding in their shadow." she says, looking into the mirror and rubbing it with her hair hand to wipe a smudge off

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clarice Akakios

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Clarice Akakios sighed exasperatedly. She should have known something like this would happen. Silently she berated herself for being oblivious to what was going on around her.

"You can travel with me until we find you someone else to haunt," she said. "What is your name, shadow imp?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Irakai

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"My name is Irakai. If you require to stay here for the night, I can oblige you. It wouldn't be much of a hassle to me to not travel at night." she says, jumping down to the ground. She might have been a third of Clarice's height, being an imp like she was. "I could even help you find food if you need."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Clarice Akakios Character Portrait: Sayyid Character Portrait: Irakai

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#, as written by Gasmask
The entrance of the cave echoed with the scrabbling of boots and the screeching of a scavenger bird. The cawing continued until it ended abruptly with a loud snap, the lights had attracted someone else to the camp. The figure at the entrance cast his bloodshot eyes into the cave and snapped a fireball to life in his right hand.

The bones hadn't warned him of this, was there another here?

"Hail." Sayyid shouted into the cave. The mage wasn't sure how a man carrying a dead vulture in one hand and a magic spell in the other would go down with whoever was in the cave, but hopefully they didn't take him as hostile.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Jack Thirteen Character Portrait: An Unknown Being Character Portrait: El-Elyon Character Portrait: Jack M. Hatchet Character Portrait: Kianna Character Portrait: The Black Hand

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"I have watched him over the years. I, even as a Deity, fear his growth. He brings desolation; disturbing the balance we have strove to keep. He is an unhinged creature of remarkable might. And, now, he has achieved a position akin to that of our own might. At this very moment, he seeks dissolution of the realms. Utter calamity and discord. He means to merge that of the Demon Realm, Hell, and the Mortal verses. Should such a thing come to pass, I fear we'll be no match, even as the force incarnates we are..."

"Then, perhaps it is in our benefit, at this moment, he steps through Ianua Aeternitatis. We all shall have time to prepare. But do not take such a thing lightly. It has been eon's since we faced a threat that urged more than the originating realms Deities to intervene; and this shall be the first that calls for them all. Though we do not, I suggest you pray that whatever realm he has abandoned this one for has a sufficient means to handle him..."


Enshrouded within the brilliance of the gateway, a figure garbed in obsidian, swallowed whole, crossed the threshold of eternity; time and space warping around his silhouette as he became naught. Spewed forth in a violent manner, tempest winds of ill origin sweeping at his shroud, he came to clatter onto his feet upon a crippled building top. Before him lay the remnants of what appeared to be a city, torn in all its once magnificent glory, it stood as a testament of ill will and cataclysm envisioned. Years of wear and elements had left it a mundane, bland, near colorless, sight for eyes. Grandiloquent, statuesque, buildings wilted, and teetered, in the distance, even from his own lofty perch, as he collected himself, vermilion jewels full of spite peering from corner to corner. Lids falling shut, a deep breath from beneath the cowl that hid his face brought him understanding. The scent of lingering decay, age old death, and an under stench of trepidation struck him. His senses branched out, bringing him understanding. This was not one of the twelve other realms. This was that anomaly he constantly found himself coming across, time and time again. Though he had efficient means of entering this realm, it was not of his own choosing this time. But, rather it instead, could it have been fate, perchance? Or were the Deities of the twelve realms meddling? It didn't matter. If he was to be here for now, he'd make do with his previous plans. Perhaps he could port such a machination over to here as well.

"So, this infested pit again. There has never been anything of interest here. Only frustration, and abhorrent nuisance embodied. Though, if I am here, I may as well resume where I left off. Perchance twist things into further favor. Conquering such a vast collection of pitiful planets afflicted with the plague of dissonance of mortals and immortals alike is hardly a plausible consideration. Instead, I may as well treat it like several of the other realms. Breed chaos and discord. Bring them cataclysmic torment. Tear the realm asunder as if it were but a cheap piece of cloth."


As he stood, eyes narrowed in concentrated thought, a single hand arose as a swirling vermilion miasma sporadically sprung to life around it. Within it, blots of opaque shade whirled and festered, bubbling beneath the veil of crimson malice that was his very power. He'd grown over time. He'd achieved the pinnacle of his existence. And now he was free to do with it as he wished. Bringing this realm to its very knee's would be something of vast enjoyment in light of his inability to conquer it as his own. It hardly mattered, at this point. The realm he'd left would soon feel his wrath. His judgement. He only strove to have one. The rest could wither and rot. There only needed to be one. And to leave the others in irrefutable, inconceivable, disrepair would suit him well.

The obvious obstacle he faced was the method of reaching such a thing. To his knowledge, there was no Eternal Dragon here. No methods of calling upon a wish to be granted. But, certainly, there were those who held knowledge of beings capable of...learning such things. Beings that held the capability to perhaps bring such utter ruination without having to request a granted desire. Perhaps the remnants of Legion still lingered. He could use them to his just needs, and wants, as he had before. And from there, he would be capable of bringing forth the torment he so wished to cause.

"Hatchet. Kianna. I shall start with those two. And then I shall work on the manners as to how to bring the realm into disarray. I am aware that Hell should be an existing place in this realm. The Demon Realm, though, I am unsure of. But, if my memory serves me correctly. I believe the Titan Maleficus had a realm all his own; one that vomited forth torrents of cacophonous screams and exuded nothing but misery. Perhaps that shall suffice instead. I'm sure it would breed a delightful nightmare for the many who live here, to be forever shrouded in darkness with flames licking at their skin around every corner."


The more he pondered, the larger the ravenous sneer of malevolence upon his face grew. Spinning on his heel, he turned to face the opposite direction, noting even further desolation in the distance. How unfortunate his unfamiliarity with these lands that he'd know not what direction to head in to find those two. Narrowing his lids, his brows furrowing, he spun yet again to face the ruined city skyline before him. News did travel in this realm; rather swiftly at that. Perhaps a show of his omnipotence would bring the warranted attention he needed. Unfurling his arms, both hands strewn out at his sides, his fingers uncoiled, the broiling, bubbling, miasma leaching into the air with unadulterated potency. The looming pressure soon became apparent, his feet submerging into the concrete and steel beams beneath him; leaving a vast number of fissures to branch out in all directions. The sky above, clouds blanketing the vast wasteland around him, began to fester, static flickering among the heavens as he summoned forth his limitless might. A swirling vortex of mist ridden clouds began to swirl above, his eyes bleeding crimson as the miasma clinging to his figure began to expand, a vicious burst of energy radiating around him. And as his might continued to soar, so did the ground beneath begin to tremble, buildings quivering under his presence. The sky cried out in vehement rage, crashing thunder and searing lightning hissing out in disdain. A teetering monolith in the distance soon crumbled beneath the vicious pressure, toppling over into another and that one into yet another scattering ashen decay years old into the winds of heinous discord. As the looming cloud of disturbance rose did he catch from his eyes the scattering of peasants and homeless below. A dead city with lifeless maggots that had no where else to go. Fitting. A land of opportunity plagued with those unfortunate enough to be helpless in reaching for such lofty sanctuary.

His sneer now a wicked grin of satisfaction, he rose from his place, ascending upward until he loomed above them all. A simple hand, finger trained, swept in a diagonal arc before him, loosing forth searing beams of death upon those who he found targets. One by one they fell in droves before his opposite hand swung outward, releasing a swelled sphere of savagery. As it pierced a solemn giant yet toppled, it strew about shards of glass and concrete, steel beams clattering along with, unto the poor victims below. And as the sphere continued to swell, it fell upon solid ground with an ear shattering, resounding, explosion that left a vast portion of the already desolate city nothing but a crater. His muse now waning brought him to lower himself upon a still standing building remnant. Concealing his vast power once again, though the skies still bled crimson, he found an interesting revelation strike. Would she still be capable of hearing him? He knew her well, from her signature down to her putrid stench.

"Kianna...I wonder what it would take to pique your interest, once more, after all this time passed..."


It had been a vast amount of time since his last encounter with the woman. And surely she'd all but forgotten about him, Legion surely falling apart in his absence, unless one had taken it upon themselves to keep the project running. He wouldn't know either way until he made his way back. Regardless, he'd do as he intended. Revive the project. Sway those under his original cause to the next, and even then, perhaps they'd find some interest in spoils left over, should they not find themselves haunted and tormented by the dissolution of the realms integrity. And even then, he didn't care. They were all tools of war. And war was something he loved to spark.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima

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#, as written by Tiko
Kazura face wavered in many faucets of the crystal by which Taima observed the events happening upon Terra. All around her other faces could be seen in the reflective surfaces of countless crystals - faces of those whom she had taken an interest in, faces of her champions, and even the face of Messor as he confronted Hatchet within the streets of Wing City.

It was with passive stoicism that she watched it all.

Lately she had come to find herself here for many hours a day, observing, and calculating... but would it be enough to sway coming events? Would her efforts change anything?

Would Messor give over to the carnal pleasures of the hunt, would Maria lose herself to the beast, would the Patronus fall beneath the trials ahead? Only time would tell. For now her attention was focused on this new arrival.

Kazura's presence on Terra had oft been a matter of some dispute among the pantheon, but in times past no consensus could ever be reached. His decision to lay low in recent times had allowed him to slide beneath their scrutiny, but a whisper of a warning had followed upon his heels this time.

While Taima observed Kazura laying waste to the city at his feet, the distant whisper of voices filled her head. Many had gathered to discuss Kazura's fate, and though Taima held no seat in the matter being discussed, she was permitted to observe for if they decided to act it would be she who brought their message to Kazura - whether by word, or by sword.

There was a restlessness at hand though, for these debates could carry on for days, if not weeks. Kazura was a herald of destruction who would only gain momentum the longer he went unchecked.

A brief crack split across the face of the crystal fracturing the image of Kazura. The order had not come down from the pantheon though, but rather from another.

"It will be as you instruct," Taima spoke with a tone of reverence.



Overhead the storm churned violently as the force that was Kazura brought unrest and discord to the realms, but there was a new presence that swept across those crimson skies. A crack of thunder shook the air and arcs of lightning split through the crimson mantle before with a deafening clap a bolt struck the building at Kazura's back.

The stench of sulfur filled the air and a looming figure was left kneeling in the wake of the lightning bolt with her halberd embedded deep into the rocky ruins of the crumbled building upon which Kazura stood.

Rising to her feet she jerked the weapon free.

Though humanoid in form, her features were unmistakably draconic in nature, and her face was the visage of a dragon snout complete with a mouthful of vicious looking fangs and bony protrusions. In place of skin she had scales, crimson red.

When she and Kazura had last met, it had been as an aging mortal past her prime. Standing there now as a creature of divinity, no such ailments lingered upon her form. She had the look of a warrior, and of a champion. Every inch, ever fiber of sinew and muscle was toned and hardened for battle.

"I, Taima, herald of Ahuma, patron deity of the draconian people, do bear message to one Kazura." Her voice was rough and gravely, but it held the rumbling weight of the distant mountains within its reverberating tone. It was the voice of conviction.

"Depart this realm, or face retribution," she growled.

Her gauntlet encased hand tightened its grip about the haft of her weapon - not for a moment entertaining the thought that Kazura would simply comply and depart.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

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"It appears she hears me not. How unfortunate. Perhaps she cares not about the doings of Legion these days. Shame. I'll have to seek her out the difficult..."


His words abruptly fell short as the atmospheric change registered throughout his body. His very senses tingled as if stung by a rampant swarm of insects. The warbling, bass ridden, cacophony overhead rumbled with vigor and intensity, but even that was stemmed by the more powerful sounds heralding from behind the curtained veil of malevolence that loomed over head. Furrowing his brows, he could already foresee something had been watching. He'd caught someones attention. Maleficus? No. Such an act was beneath the demented Deity. Then who? Another immortal who'd been keeping tabs on him since his arrival? Hardly minutes upon being in this realm, and nuisances were already sprouting forth like vermin in an infested hell hole. As his eyes caught the arcing luminescence that split the air above, forcefully gouging a hole into the crimson taint hovering above, his body slowly spun just as the bolt struck the building but paces away from him. Dimmed lids searched the haze that had sprung up from such an act and as it cleared, Kazura's eyes bore witness to a figure long since forgotten since days old in this festering cesspool considered a realm of realms.

Many would find intimidation from such a being; a creature as ghastly and, furthermore, an eyesore. His mind didn't fail him, though, and he remembered their last encounter. This thing, and that wench. It was a deciding factor in his understanding of this realm, and it's supposed 'champions'. From whence he came from; he was penultimate, equal to few, and beneath even less. Here, though, all logic was tossed aside. Mortals, and immortals, alike standing alongside one another. Beings of vast power merely a fingers reach away. Maleficus was the second to bring such resounding realization to him. Toppling the Titan had not been an easy task, but having accomplished it proved to be an ill upset; a being of limitless power put to its knee's by a creature who held limits, but had limitless spite. Apathy had not been that Deities friend that eve. Such realizations brought him to an understanding of keeping wary. And as the years continued to churn forth, so did Kazura seemingly evolve. Numbers meant something here, and he surely wasn't the only villain to walk the plains of this realm. Like minded individuals would prove as tools, and assets, alike.

Far from intimidated, though, he remained as he had previously, dimmed lids widening once again to cast a vehement glare of disdain her way. Her savage visage left him offering a simple sneer, though it was easily hidden beneath the cowl that covered a portion of his face. Had she just issued him an ultimatum? The audacity to insult his magnificence, and threaten him with petty words that bore no true weight upon him was certainly something she'd understand, if she were smart. She was different, though, in some fashion. He could very well sense the suffocating pressure that lingered against his senses. Whatever the case, though, he'd certainly find entertainment from this.

"Retribution?" Came the harsh, venom laced, whisper from beneath the hood that clung to his head. The fabric, draped over his face, barely shielded his eyes from sight, leaving his upper face in shade. For a brief moment, his eyes pulsed a malevolent vermilion as a cackle left him. "If entities on high within my own realms cannot dissuade me, nor stop me...what makes you believe you can, Dragon?" He spat in return, unfurling his arms to either side of his thin, yet rigid, frame. Slowly ascending from the place he stood, inches above the surface, he summoned, once more, his vast reserves of power. Tempest winds yet again kicked up dust and debris as the lingering storm above thundered out, groaning in disdain at the disturbance within its presence. Soon thereafter, a sudden static filled the air around his very form; a thick miasma like energy oozing from his very presence as if he were an infectious plague; creeping death to sweep the lands.

"You, of all beings, should know what is bound to befall you..." He taunted, his devilish tone dripping with hellish spite. Of all the times such a thing could come about, this was, perhaps, the worst moment. He had old associates to get in touch with and a machination to continue with. This was yet another thorn in his side. Had the Deities of his own realm managed to get word across the veil of time and space? He'd be sure to cut them all down upon his return, meddlesome cretins. Furthermore; she had to be in league with someone who held knowledge. Someone who'd been watching. How else would she recognize him amid his concealing attire. There was a reason he stuck to a vague disguise. Those who knew him feared him. And those who didn't fear him sought him out. It was far more simple to dawn a fallacious appearance and go about his motives rather than fighting the tide of those wishing him harm, or those fleeing from the simple sight of him.

Upon the moment he achieved the necessary amplified power he'd been seeking, his lids rose, eyes wide, as he took sight of the Dragon warrior before him. It was time. No vast amount of words would suffice, this time. No petty speeches. No ill-willed threats, or promises. Instead, his fists, and other utensils, would serve as his voice. Judgmental, ruthless, and without mercy. The executioner of all who lived without fear.

"Come, Dragon. Let's get this over with. I have things to attend to."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

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#, as written by Tiko
Taima stood stoic and calm within the heart of the tempest winds that gusted around her and Kazura, and where his energy signature was a sickening miasma of corruption, Taima's was a steadfast beacon of strength and nobility. Where his was noxious, hers was pure and unmarred. Where his was a creeping infection, hers was an immovable mountain barring its path. She would not bow to this storm, as she had not bowed to the ones that came before it.

"Ka'ara thera kin," she growled deeply in an ancient draconic tongue.

Kazura would feel it in the air, a rising hurricane to meet his own tempest storm; but where his oozed and writhed as it permeated from his very form, Taima's rose up from rest as if it were a great beast from the depths of the ocean that would set the waters churning and frothing. Kazura's power was his own to call upon, but Taima's came from another.

As she spoke, her voice had taken on an unnatural weight and it was laced with mysticism as her words wove their magic, but Kazura could not make them out any longer. Each word lingered upon his mind as fleeting as a wisp of smoke, and just as difficult to grasp. They resonated with a booming weight that would have set mortals to their knees, but the words themselves were lost to him.

One could feel their spell on the air and catch fleeting images of ancient runes that brushed the minds of those who heard the words. For one familiar with the ancient language and the archaic runescript that accompanied it, they might have picked out the dominant rune that represented the word 'guardian'. For Kazura though, the strange runes that intruded upon his thoughts would likely prove foreign and unrecognizable.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

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A clashing of ripe energies soon erupted as Kazura stood fast, awaiting the moment he'd have to strike out. But as the looming weight of her divine nobility pressured against his own wicked will, his dimmed lids parted further in the wake of her foreign tongue. His mind now a whir, his brows furrowed in growing irritation. What were these foreign words? And this growing power that pushed, and heaved, against his own; T'ch, he'd have none of this. The swirling miasma that lingered around him, festering off of his very form and spilling into the air around him; noxious and disorienting, sought to snuff out the power that opposed him. With a growing snarl of spite, he lashed out.

"I will have none of these games, insect!"


As he proceeded inbound, his very power acting to plow through her own rising gale of divine might, he felt the initial struggle. Yes. She certainly had grown in her time. This force was unlike many he'd felt before. Divine was hardly the word for it. Blessed by the Gods, it seemed. She had not lied. A being on high, now, is what he faced. And this was the very reason he sought to destabilize the realms integrity. If she had come this far in the years, who's to say she, or any other like her, could not cross over into his own realm and thwart his malevolent machination. He'd have nothing of it. Rain down fire and ignite the planets until they are naught but smoldering brimstone. He'd fought self-appointed Gods, and immortals, alike. Maleficus had been one. She'd be yet another statistic smote under his devilish wrath.

His dash slowed in the onslaught of her power, he continued to strain and fight against it, slowing almost to a crawl as he fell to a solid stance, fending off the fierce hurricane force gales pelted at him. And as he stood there against it, so did the sudden intrusion of a voice beckoning and taunting him within his own mind. As the pulsing thrums of each word struck at the chords of his sanity his mind fell back to some time prior; the words of that meek, minuscule, little imp having done much the same. But this being was of divinity. And as such, this had to be some tactical arcane work. Something that would not bode well for a such a vile being of his caliber. Babidi had cursed him. He'd sought for control of the monolithic Titan, and he'd been denied in every facet. As the continuance of such an event pushed him further, his mind fractured in a moment of near desperation. He'd not be controlled. And he'd not deal with this insidious arcane plot she'd begun to weave. He was Kazura. He was death. He was fear. He would not submit to such petty divine forces.

The Gods themselves, in his own realm, even feared him...


As if Mjölnir striking vibranium; Kazura's power was unleashed ten fold to disrupt and effectively dispel her growing energy influence. Eyes oozing vermilion caught sight of her own, and in a hellish act, his body lurched forward with all the intentions of a rabid, feral, beast. Each stride, evenly paced, brought him all the more swifter toward her being before, with the force of a dying sun, he thrust out with a palmed hand to silence her mouth. And as such, his palm with the intentions of striking true, should come to pass would his figure smolder and flicker into a sea of black flames; vanished. Far more in sync with his myriad assortment of capabilities, Yoki and its fiendish transportation methods proved almost more tactical than a typical Saiyan's instantaneous motion. Appearing from a blackened pool of Yoki flames from behind, his leg would rise to extend; draped in those same flickering black flames to drive into her spine and send her reeling forth with even more power than the original palm blow delivered prior.

All the while such heinous acts of treachery continued to float around his fractured intellect, his own power continued to boast its own claims, pushing and fighting, striving to defend. Calling upon his Saiyan heritage once again, his frame would vault off of the surface of the building with no restraint, the force of his gravitational ascension bringing ruin to the immediate location; shattered and crumbled the upper portion of the buildings structural integrity would wane, ebbed away by the power that was this vile might. Whilst lingering within the heavens, Kazura's hand fell away, digits carefully rifling underneath the obsidian cloak that clung to his lithe frame. Securing the item, he'd brandish it with ill-will; bloody eminence trickling forth from the malevolently designed steel forged of a divinity long since forgotten. Within the next hand, flickering black flames wove forth into manifestation, yet another device of malicious origins brought to life. Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica.

Stay out of my mind! It is not a place for lowly filth such as yourself! You won't like what you see...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

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#, as written by Tiko
Kazura was mistaken in who was the target of Taima's growling incantations and as he struck against her, the power within her words was unleashed not against him but rather in protection of herself. A great dragon's maw - silver and ethereal in nature - manifested around the draconian and it lunged forward to intercept Kazura's palm and the flare of power that rend and tore at the threads of her spell.

His hand collided with its snout, and though it lacked physical form it stayed him all the same. The collision of power was titanic and both wavered as the proverbial unstoppable force struck immovable object.

It was uncertain which would have won out in the end, as Taima lunged forward with a powerful stroke of her wings. Kazura was momentarily stayed by the visage of the dragon, but it swiftly dissipated as Taima erupted forth from its maw with her halberd sweeping a wide blow for his exposed abdomen. Tendrils of light and arcs of electricity trailed in its wake but Kazura vanished as she closed the distance.

Behind you.

She furled one wing, rolling in place to face Kazura while her momentum carried her on her path which drew her away from him. Once again she swept her halberd across as she twisted in air, but this time it was her own momentum that landed her swing short and both his kick and her halberd missed their marks.

She didn't relent though and as Kazura rose into the air, Tiama gave him little room for pause. The force of her ascent after him fractured the stone beneath her and her wings created gale blasts that sent cracked pillars crumbling to the ground to join the rubble of the destroyed buildings that Kazura had brought down.

She turned to his own game and vanished from view as she closed in on him, but rather than appear behind him as he might have expected, she chose to appear above. Within her maw a focused blast of energy grew charged with a mixture of fire, electricity, and an edge of raw kinetic force.

It was unleashed downwards as a hammer upon an anvil, set to drive Kazura back down to the ground below under the titanic blow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being Character Portrait: Jack M. Hatchet

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The cataclysm that erupted upon the collision of both forces was mammoth; the very rippling distortion of force reverberating throughout the heavens. The ground quaked in its might. The atmosphere unleashing the cracking strike that it held. The dragon, though an interesting match for his palm, didn't halt his progress upon the moment of his vanishing. Though he expected otherwise, he was pleased to realize that such words had ceased within his head as he took up position behind her. But as his leg rose to strike at her, he was infuriated to realize that he'd barely brushed past her; as had she brushed past him narrowly striking him in the process.

His ascent left him heaven bound, both weapons of destruction called forth to act upon the malevolence their owner instilled upon the world. This was already becoming far more tedious than it needed to be, and his patience had begun to wane. Sanity all but steadfast in this monstrosities mind, his ideology of the coming tactics was far severed from the realm of belief. Countless ploys and machinations began to flicker about in his head, as if a deck of cards flipped through by a dealer. The ace? The king? Perhaps the wild? It was as such tactics brought to his mind that his arms opened outward, one hand clutched around Onikussaiga, the other around the shaft of Apocalyptica, that his eyes deceived him. She was no longer inbound? What sort of trickery was this? His own ploy used against him.

It was in that faint moment he turned to envision the force of light rain down punishment upon him. Narrowing his eyes, his body caught by the very blast she'd spewed forth, he continued to offer his unsettling glare throughout his entire decent. Apathy written across his features, even in the wake of his chewed up attire fluttering within the air as he careened earthbound, never alluded to the coming possibilities. And as he clattered through the final remnants of that buildings horrendously tortured rooftop, a resounding cacophony exuded in all directions as he was pushed through floor after floor. Torrents of dust and debris vomited outward from nooks, crannies, shattered windows, and broken segments of the very building as he made landfall. Eyes still glued upward, though, kept trained on the immortal dragon wench as he remained stagnant and motionless.

Moments passed before his eyes lowered to the protruding beam that had managed to wedge its way through his body; entering mere inches away from his spine and wrenching through his rib cage a good six inches. Normally, this wouldn't pose much of a situation. But in this event, it infuriated him. A mockery these days? Is that all he could amount to? Had he truly become so soft and over confident in his prowess he'd forgotten the lull of battle this realm whispered to all? That mythical call to arms that was far more potent than what he was accustomed to? This wouldn't do. Playing around would get him no where. This wasn't the same beast he'd sought to tame previously. And he certainly wasn't the same miscreant.

"I see. You force my hand soon, Dragon. Such a pity. I had planned on saving such show's for later."


Rising upon his elbows, the beam that had managed to impale him was slowly slid off of until he found himself in a seated position. The armor and clothing that had clung to his upper torso earlier had been stripped clean from her technique, his skin scarred and ruined in the wake of such devastating force. But his genetics were far more significant here than elsewhere. Immortal, or not, it would take more than that godly burst to keep him down. As he rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the remnants of the building; but a mere shell now that could collapse at any point, he lowered his head to the wound upon his torso that was slowly knitting itself shut already. The fact of his cowl and cloak failing to conceal his presence was also very noted, leaving him to toss both to the side as discarded trash. He couldn't hide his identity from such an upper class entity. It was more suited for the vermin of the city, and those who knew no better. Brandishing his unique, trademark, identity, his eyes vaulting to the open view above, he'd offer a simple sneer. Allowing Apocalyptica to stand upon its own whim, his free hand rose to brush at the locks of vermilion hair that spilled forth. Ruffling it to a degree, he'd take hold of the devilish scythe once more.

And in that instant he'd crouch before lifting off of the ground in the same manner he'd done prior. Rising through the building, he'd pelt through beams and the like, the building collapsing around him from the force of his ascension. Upon reaching the pinnacle height the building managed to tower to, his eyes would suddenly bleed a vicious emerald. Locks tainted blood red would burst golden as did his aura envelope him. Static flickers of disruption would clatter to life around his figure as his speed surpassed what it had been before. Claiming the second transformation in his arsenal, having skipped the first altogether, he had an inclination to show her just what she was getting herself into. And this was hardly as serious as he could have been. But, then again, jumping to the fourth, and final, transformation may prove too much.

Having demolished the entirety of the building, Kazura's figure became akin to a rippled distortion upon the surface of water. Hauling back his arm, he'd unleash Apocalyptica akin to a boomerang, unleashing it to cleave at her very figure. The power of the swing and the mystic properties of the blade would serve its purpose. Material cleaved apart by it suffered with the manifestation of the black flames that would burn, and set flame, to nearly any material; water itself suffering. Though the flames did only last for a minuscule amount of time, a simple wound could easily become a gaping, singed, wound of extreme measures.

Continuing on with his velocity, though, he'd move to careen past her, his devilish emerald eyes catching her own, should he pass her by as he'd planned. Twisting his body upon passing her, his devilish, cruel, intentions would swiftly set in as his hands would reach out to claim her wings. A single foot would strive to plant itself upon her spine as he'd wrench with all the might he'd been granted. He'd bank on her being distracted by the inbound weapon, and would count on her not expecting him to put himself in the path of his own weapon.

"It's time someone clipped your wings and brought you back down into the dirt where you belong! You'll not interfere with my plans. Not you, nor your pitiful, trivial, God!"


And whilst his mouth moved, so did his mind suddenly reach out. Should she put a halt to him, even in the slightest, he'd still set the gears of chaos in motion. Certainly, death meant nothing to him here. He could easily find his way back, one way or another. He'd done it before. So, in that instance, he'd need to have someone already enacting the machination. Legion would come to pass, despite its prior snuffed rising.

'Since Kianna is unreachable; Jack. You remember me, don't you? Good. Don't speak. Listen. I've returned. And I plan on continuing on with Legion, as previously planned. I need you to put things back into motion. I'm a little...busy at the moment. All you need to know, for now, is I require a basis of operations. A front to conceal its true motives. And funding to keep said front believable. You'll hear from me soon.'

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
Taima raised her arm up to deflect the incoming blade which struck against the shield strapped to her forearm. With a resounding impact the collisions jarred her mid flight, and as the blade rend along the length of the shield it left a trailing burst of flickering flames in its wake. With her arm firmly strapped to the inside of the shield none of the flames reached flesh and were quick to die out, and little more than a long scorch mark upon the face of her shield remained.

Meanwhile, Kazura would once again find the visual disruption ineffective as a sensation of warning washed over her.

'To your left'

The sapient nature of the sword upon her back left her with a second pair of eyes, and the two of them had been bonded for long enough that they often fought as a single entity, and a single mind. Aecris' warnings were more a sense of intuition rather than something that needed to be processed and questioned.

Her head shifted to the side, catching the movement of Kazura from the corner of her eyes. He had released his other weapon - Onikussaiga - but rather than falling to the ground below it hovered in place beside him. She remembered its bite quite keenly and she didn't fancy taking a direct hit from it as she took careful note of its position.

Apocalyptica had ricocheted off and was still in motion through the air which left it an equally potential threat. Aecris should warn her if it rebounded back around to make a pass at her exposed back though, and she gave Kazura her primary focus. His fingertips grazed the scales of her wings as she twisted to meet him, but he was too close to make efficient use of her halberd as little more than a bar to keep him pushed back. She needed to gain some distance if she were going to utilize it effectively, and she couldn't fly backwards.

With a growl she held the weapon lengthwise in front of her in both hands as lightning arced down the length of the weapon. Fortunately the resistant nature of her armor, and her natural affinity to lightning would mitigate the brunt of the damage to herself as it scorched the breastplate of her armor and dispersed along her scaly hide. The jolts drew little more than a low growl from her maw, but Kazura would be less well protected from the arcs of electricity that jumped to slam into the nearest objects they could find.

The pair were for all intents and purposes caught in a coalescing and sparking globe of lightning being generated by Taima's halberd.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

0.00 INK

'So be it that you truly think you have insight to what you face, you abhorrent pest. Your God is nothing in the eyes of pure, iniquitous, calamity. I'll break you before the very eyes of your maker.'


Apocalyptica had been a viable option at the time but he soon realized as it careened off, having rebounded off of the shield she'd wielded, that it had been a far cry from the consequence he'd expected. With Onikussaiga off to his side, lackadaisically hovering by the power of his mind only, his intentions had surely been to strip her of her wings. Unfortunately, that was not the case as she managed to whirl around before he'd had the utmost opportunity to rip the appendages from her being. Unable to grasp at her, his eyes dangerously narrowed as his mind whirred into various tactical strategies. A swift twitch of his fingertip halted Apocalyptica's progress, leaving it to idly linger within the sky. A second twitch of his finger ignited the staff and scythe into a burning conflagration of seething, blackened, flames.

But at that point, before anything else could be done, his eyes caught sight of the flickering mass that was now poised to strike him. His lips curling into a wicked snarl, his mind did the next thing he could think of, his opposite finger jerking in a similar fashion to the other which signaled Onikussaiga. The fiendish blade became embellished in tainted, vermilion, miasma and a devilish outpouring of Yoki escaped the medium. Distancing itself, it came to roughly the same position opposite Apocalyptica just as Kazura's frame took the brunt force of the elemental invocation summoned against him. His plight was well noted as the lurching, searing, bolts clamored into his torso, propelling him backward before rending a hole into his abdomen, the voltage pummeling him without reprieve. The only drawback to such a thing was the sudden amplification of his thought process. Rather than scrambling his mentality, it only served to invoke a hurried sense of decision making, his eyes widening in haste.

"T'ch...D-damn you..."


His stammered words were swift and within reason, but as his sentence came to an abrupt end, so did his arms fling out to either side. Eyes pulsed to life, a crimson illumination oozing from them before both hands clenched into fists. Blown back by the elemental attack, those very eyes unleashed a potent pair of beams that would pierce the air and aim to char through her very throat, or whatever happened to be in their path. The fact that she'd already initiated her own attack gave him the realization she'd be pressed to defend herself, or mitigate such a fiendish backlash, and would herald some extent of damage. In that instant, Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica swiftly moved into action, arcing through the air in a spherical pattern. Their speeds soon became apparent as sweeping arcs of blackened flames and disastrous, decaying, Yoki filled the air akin to a hollow sphere, closing her in as he, as luck would have it, was thrown out of range by the might of the element that had pierced him.

Tumbling backward through the air, he came to a halt, a hand lowering to the gaping hole within his midsection, not mere inches away from the prior wound that had already begun to knit itself closed. As an eye fell closed, the snarling lips coiled into a twisted sneer as his tools of destruction wove their fabric of impending demise. Almost a solidified, hollow, sphere of flames and Yoki, meant to rend asunder all that touched them, his fingers again coiled into a fist, beginning the task of compacting the sphere.

As he lingered within the sky, his spherical disaster closing itself in upon the immortal, he took no time in ascending once more. Eyes silhouetted with vermilion peeled open once more as the transformation shook the heavens and reduced the Terran floor to a quaking, calamitous, region wrought with new found carnage. The golden locks and aura that had surrounded him previously become no more as a crimson shroud consumed his figure whole, tainting the golden licks of light that sprung up around him and leaving a duel colored, raging, inferno to swaddle him. The pulsing blue static that had clung tight to him now radiated in blood red, and his entire upper torso and arms, save for his pectorals and abs, were now covered in an equally crimson fur. Locks as dark as night now hung from his scalp and his tail swiftly coiled around his waist.

It was one thing to release his power, it was another to unbind it completely and risk the destruction of the planet. He had to tread lightly. Destruction was his utmost desire, but to do it in such a fashion would be petty and defeat the entire purpose of his machination. Instead, he'd relish toying with her from this point on. Clawed fingers slowly weaved themselves past one another to secure opposing biceps whilst he began to summon forth Ki reserves. Faint flickers of dust appeared around his figure, countless more populating the tainted sky above.

As the spherical deathtrap came to such a point as to restrict opposition, a single tilt of his head, his mind acting as the guiding force, signaled, Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica broke their tedious paths, lunging inward into the dome as guided weapons of demise. Lashing out, Onikussaiga arced force, hell bent on piercing through her side whilst Apocalyptica struck from behind, all intents to not only clip her wings in the ensuing attack, but to behead the creature as it hovered within the air. And as this became the scene before him, so did a hand gingerly rise from his bicep to collect the powered looking particles within the air into the nexus of his palm. Preparations for Scatter Nova.

"You have amused me thusfar, Dragon. Although, you are a nuisance nonetheless. I do not have time for this. I enjoy the thrill of battle. But I heavily detest the self-righteousness, and justice, you seem to cling so tightly to. Your herald, Ahuma was it? Another blinded entity all the same. With creation comes inevitable destruction. Embrace it."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kazura Kanahashi Character Portrait: Taima Character Portrait: An Unknown Being

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
As Kazura was knocked back, Taima was right on his heels with all the force of a bullet train. Her speed and unrelenting offensive left her undeterred by the beams that cut through the air. Her forward assault and the speed at which the beams lanced towards her left her little room to slow her approach or physically evade them - at least not fully.

A moving target was substantially more difficult to hit than a stationary one though, and rather than cut across her throat as intended, the beams initially struck against the plating of her armor between her neck and shoulder. The impact twisted her slightly in air as they lanced past and lightly seared the edge of her left wing. She rolled to one side to throw his aim off mark as she kept on top of him, but this time the beams contacted with the armor plating that encased her upper torso.

The armor of her breastplate grew heated and cracked as it took the beams directly, but they had failed to deter her in her approach which left both Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica at her back and Taima clear of the vortex that they had begun. The second impact of the beams kept her briefly at bay as her momentum was slowed while she sought to close the space between them even as he tried to distance it.

Meanwhile as she pressed in upon him, the air grew heavy once more as she let roll more growling incantations. As before they left a swirl of draconic runes dancing before the eyes of those who could perceive the words.

While she wove her spell her halberd was discarded to fall towards the ground below and she smoothly drew her sword from her back. Without breaking momentum she swept the blade across in a horizontal arc before her, and the ancient relic unleashed a curved scythe of divine energy towards Kazura's chest. The brilliant flash of light could be spotted for miles around, and though he was just out of reach for the blade itself to strike him, the energy would cleave through the air like a wave as it closed the short distance between them. She sought to catch him off guard in his assumption that the sword would fall short of its mark.

Meanwhile she growled out the final words of her incantation and at her back a ghostly axe manifested. It held a bluish and almost ethereal glow that surrounded the shimmering weapon and it seemed to move of its own accord while leaving a trail of divine energy not too dissimilar to Taima's own. Should it reach its mark and disrupt the rapid spiral of motion from Kazura's weapons, it would collide with Apocalyptica with the resounding clash of steel against steel.

She would be hard pressed to fight a battle on three fronts, and Onikussaiga would prove more difficult to tangle up as the weapon would be capable of cleaving through any spell she tossed at it, but the spiritual weapon would perhaps help to level the playing field marginally by keeping Apocalyptica off her back.

Unlike Kazura no words of banter graced her lips, and there was an unwavering and unrelenting fire that smoldered in the draconian's eyes. For all her seemingly tempered nature, Taima was a warrior at the core, and all of her careful self-control and discipline had been hard fought against a fiery nature. She had long mastered the passion and aggression of her bloodline though, and she was well capable of channeling and focusing it rather than allowing it to drive her actions. In fact, one might note that the fire stirring within her seemed to be held at bay - as was the rising storm of power that Kazura had felt earlier.

To an observer she fought offensively and with fierce aggression, but there was a great deal of restraint within her for those that could feel the weight of what lay beneath the surface. Her halberd, her sword, her shield, her armor... the objects were all formidable in their own right, but they wouldn't hold out for long against a being of Kazura's magnitude and she was swiftly expending their stored enchantments even as he rapidly progressed through his transformations. Despite this rapid expenditure, there was a clarity behind the heat in her eyes that spoke of precision and careful intent while the fire within her chest remained incubated - a smoldering flame waiting to ignite into an inferno.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aedard

0.00 INK

The seemingly endless barrens stretched before Aedard, much to his chagrin. The terrain, an unholy mess of hills, steep drop offs, pitfalls, sinkholes, and cracked pavement, was familiar. Calming even. The brutish man emitted a rumbling chuckle sound as he glanced about, this place was nice, simple - a lot like home - except quiet. Too quiet. Unnervingly quiet. The Soloist could hear nothing but the distant thumping of massive wings, the occasional bird's cry, and the crunching of his own steps.

Even at home, deep in the arid peaks of The Kryptkillian Mountains, the noise never stopped. Blood, fire, and Metal marched endlessly, the ebb, and flow of War Songs permeated the air. Always. This place, though, this "new home", was just.

Empty.

Lifeless.

Dead.

With a smirk he reached over his shoulder, thick, scar-riddled fingers closing around the delicate neck of Gun-Gear. Just the faintest brush against her strings made him shiver, the second his hand connected to the instrument he could feel his blood boil, and his chest began to heave, feeling like thunderclouds were building inside it. He unsheathed the beast of a guitar with a careful grace, and simply stood there for a moment, holding it up like a King's Scepter.

His eyes ran over the tarnished, bullet-riddled, jerry-rigged, rust-bucket of a device with a certain reverence, like it was some kind of holy relic, and not a beat up hunk of metal. He drank in every detail, every little nick, chip of paint, and bloodstain. It was his little ritual, and it kept him well in tune with his gear. Demonstrating a practiced ease, he hefted the mighty thing into position with a grunt. It was time to see just how dead this place was.

Reaching behind himself, and flipping the "On" switch to his Amplifier, he began.

There was no build-up, no lead in, no shouting, or hype, and no stage. Just like the good old days. The diesel engine in his set-up roared to life, filling the air with the sent of fuel, and sparks. The second it had kicked to life it sent streaks of lightning shooting from the jagged prongs fixed to the tip of Gun-Gear's neck, and with no dely Aedard set to work.

All at once the empty wasteland of the Boiling Plains exploded with violent noise, hammering it from every direction.

Loud beyond words, the first notes screamed out for miles, booming, and even shaking the ground to it's core, splintering the earth in front of the lone rocker. Not that he cared though, Aedard was busy moving his fingers inhumanly fast, blitzing around the frets with enough momentum to generate sparks, shred his skin, and coat Gun-Gear with blood. Even with no audience he established his right to be called a Soloist, effortlessly managing to play both Rhythm, and Lead chords simultaneously.

But wasn't enough, not for him. He looked down at the fissure in front of him, and an idea was set.

With just the mental desire for more noise, his amp ratcheted up, further shaking the land, while heavy clouds began to gather around him. They were dark, blotting out the sun, thick with rain, and rumbling of lightning. Just what he needed. Fervently the rocker carried on, playing harder, and harder as his "concert" began in earnest now.

The theatrics started small, each time he stamped his foot in rhythm with the song, the ground shook, and cracked Every high note was accented by a lightning strike, and all the while blood continued to drip from his hands, from Gun-Gear, right into the little fissure. This was all just build-up though.

With a raspy shout, and a stomping flourish, Aedard stepped backyards, hitting, and holding a quite literally ear-splitting note as he did so. On cue the lightning shot down, striking directly into the fissure, bringing forth an eruption of blood. Crimson streaks flew through the air, splattering against everything, instantly setting it ablaze, as a puddle of the stuff welled up from the little crack, seeping out.

It bubbled, and roiled in time with the song, spewing up little rivulets of the molten blood, until on the performer's command a second bolt struck it. This time the stuff exploded out, and then some. Blood, and dirt rained down on the ground, followed by bone, and various gore. This left little puddles of what looked like exploded people about the place.

All the while Aedard played on, faster, and faster. The vibrations from his performance started shattering the steel left in the burnt out husks of cars nearby, spurring him on. Louder, and louder each chord echoed, calling down bolt, after bolt of lightning, more striking the bubbling fissure until it became a non-stop blood geyser. Grotesque swathes of gore, and viscera decorated the little field.

It was perfect.

With another grand flourish he brought the song to a dramatic close. A massive bolt of lightning tore itself from the sky, with thunder cracking so loud in it's wake it seemed to split the very sky, causing the clouds to hemorrhage a torrent of rain down, and lightning to chain-strike around the place.

Which was the whole point, because each time a bolt of lightning struck one of the little gore-piles, they exploded blindingly, and a rather "alive" skeleton was left in the wake of it.

These creatures were horrific, often misshapen, miss-assembled, or just outright missing pieces. The summoned skeleton's also happened to leave a trail of blood behind their every movement. Some even had the misfortune of decaying flesh getting tangled up in their rib-cages. A nightmarish sight to be sure, but the man behind it all just smiled on.

"Even here," he chuckled, low rumbling voice barely audible. "You call to the land, and it answers.."

Proud of himself, he stepped back a little, motioned to a few skeletons who quickly began dissembling each other, and launched right into his next song.

Even more life-threateningly loud then the last, and now accompanied by the percussion of a skeletal drummer that threatened to cause an earnest earthquake.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aedard
  1. "dB" Is the technical abbreviation for "decibels"

    by Blazezon

0.00 INK

As the second song of the set came to a close, and the lone man's manic shredding ground to a halt, he glanced around expectantly. It took him a moment, his head darting back and forth, until eventually he stopped, just standing there eerily still. After about a minute his gravelly voice broke the tense silence.

"Well, fuck." He cackled as he spoke, turning to the Blood-Skeleton behind him. It was a horribly misshapen thing, lacking legs, and hands for that matter.

"Do we suck?"

The red-boned creature just looked at him, flesh-less face incapable of expression.

"...Maybe we weren't loud enough?"

Again, the skeleton just stared, although Aedard got the sense that it did not find his attempts at humour worth jack shit. Which made him chuckle again.

"Okay, okay. I get it. I was loud enough I literally woke the dead. It was a dumb question, but I mean..C'mon man. Don't you think if anything heard that, and survived, that they'd be like, responding?" Without waiting for the answer that obviously wouldn't come, he shielded his eyes from the midday sun to better watch the horizon.

A few uncomfortably silent moments crept by before the Skeleton, fed up with this nonsense, smashed his forearm into the drumkit, startling his "master", and bringing the Soloist out of his stupor.

"A'ight, a'ight. Calm the fuck down, you Warg chew-toy."

If the skeleton could've glared, it would've. Instead it attempted to push itself off of the little chair(Some other skeleton's skull, and spinal column) it had, but Aedard cut it off with a swift motion of his hand.

"You're a summoned..Dead...Fuckin' thing..You can't quit my band."

It crossed it's forearms, looking away in protest.

"Don't pout, man, I've got a plan." The creature swiveled back to face him, as if to say "And what's that, jackass?" Aedard merely pointed behind the thing in response, his finger coming to rest on a not-too-distant mountain.

"I'll race ya." The skeleton shared a look with him that just had the primal sense of unending annoyance, and he burst out laughing. "Okay, okay. I'll carry you."
The trek to the small mountain took quite awhile. Even though it wasn't horrifically far away, maybe two hundred miles top, it took a long time to rejuvenate one of the busted down cars nearby. It took a lot of swearing, grease, and a little magic to get the thing roaring again, but in the end it paid off.

It might've been a shitty little four-dour, held together by the arcane, but it made carrying the various skeletons, and gear around easier. Not to mention the lack of speed limits.

By the time the "band" had made it to the foot of what Aedard dubbed "Mount. Killaman", in what he felt was a stroke of wit, the sun was setting. It provided a beautiful, reddish/orange back drop in the shade of the mountain's imposing figure. The "band" wasted no time setting up either, and within another hour all the gear was in place, even a makeshift little stage.

All facing Mount. Killaman.

The hand-less companion tapped Aedard on the shoulder, causing the man to turn on his heel with a "What?" expression. The skeleton, unable to speak, or make a face, or even raise his eyebrows, just shrugged, doing it's best to ask "What's your deal?". It motioned towards Killaman to get the point across.

"Oh," pausing to run a hand through his shaggy beard, Aedard gathered up his thoughts as quick as could. "Well, see the thing is..I've killed a lot of people. Like. A lot...And I've killed plenty of scenery, too. Cities even, but uh..I've never set out to kill a mountain before."

The creature just shrugged again.

"I know, I know, big deal, right? It's just been so long since I've done anything..New. You know?"

A vigorous head shake in the negatory from the skeleton.

"I know, who cares, who cares. I'm just, wondering if there's a reason I shouldn't.."

Both men paused for a moment, before locking eyes, and then bursting out laughing. Well, Aedard laughed, the skeleton just chattered it's ribcage.

"Point taken, I think it's about time he kick this shit off, just like Kryptkillian."


Slowly the bulky figure of Aedard made it's way to the little stage, nothing more than a few bones, rocks, a car door, and wooden scrapes thrown together, but it'd do for the task at hand. After all it was anointed, blessed, and guarded with Kryptkillian Runes. Once on stage he carefully he unslung his amp, setting it down on the front of the stage, making sure the main speaker pointed towards Killaman. This wasn't the kind of thing you just "wung", not on a different planet at least.

With preparations complete, Aedard drew Gun-Gear once more, with the same reverence. He aimed a weak kick at his amp, nailing the Off/On switch, waking his guitar up with the roar of diesel, and crackle of lightning. Reaching forward cautiously, he flipped the volume nob up to "Back Snapper", and stepped back.

Man he needed this.

With practiced motions he raised a hand to the strings, a scavenged pick in hand, and paused, breathing deep. He wanted to wait, for just a second, so that he could remember every little detail. With a nervous gulp, he jumped in with both feet, finally strumming. Just once, mind you, just one single, elegant sweep, covering each string with blinding speed.

Instantly, like the agonized shriek of Grindul himself, the horrendous cacophony of sound exploded from his amp with immense physical force. Clocking in at a staggering 213 decibels, the sheer acoustic waves struck so violently they erupted with the force of a Sonic Boom. The sound-wave tore through the little campsite first, shattering every window in the car, flipping it over, whipping up any smalls trees, shrubs, skeletons, or rocks into high-speed projectiles, before hitting Killaman.

It was like a God had walked up, and punched the mountain. It shook visibly from it's base, to it's peaks, loose boulders, turf, and trees came tumbling off of it. The sound was so loud painfully loud, so powerful, anyone with scientific in a few hundred mile radius would be able to detect the notes as a 3.0 earthquake, give or take.

This left Aedard with no time to gloat, or savor the moment. One downside to sound is the heat it generates, the ground around him hissing with sparks, the rocks ready to rain down debating becoming nearly molten. The situation was simple now, play or die.
Without a trace of hesitation he began shredding at top speed, his amp slowly jacking up the sound with each and every note.

Again the force of a Sonic Boom lashed out, but this time it was sustained, rocking the mountain to it's core again, and again. This put the landscape past the flash-point though, and fires began erupting everywhere, the air would be difficult to breath, and the debris knocked loose from Killaman rained down.

It seemed like this went on forever, but it only a handful of seconds.

Until a singular strike of the strings, signaling the Chorus. The noise instantly dialed up another twenty decibels, now approaching that of a nuclear explosion. This harsh spike set the environment past it's tipping point, the little green valley stripped bare in a blink, all plant matter either utterly obliterated, or converted into an inferno. It protected the band though, turning any rocks, or burning trees that decided to fall into nothing but powder, while spiking a 4.0 on the Richter Scale, and straight up mulching just about anything smaller than an SUV for a twenty miles radius.

The ground, and mountain quaked in unison now, but it still wasn't enough, not even close. The mountain was no where near splintering, even as the ground around the stage began to crack open, and sustaining this sort of noise would just turn it into nothing but a heap of fine dirt.

Luckily Aedard had a plan B, and switched to it.

He continued to shred, rocking the song closer, and closer to the crescendo, all the while bumping his amp one, or two decibels at a time. It was a careful balance, but he could only safely jack it up by a set amount all at once, without probably frying it, so he needed to be within range.

Each note spelled disaster, though. As he approached 248dB, the unholy force of a nuclear explosion, there was more, and more of a chance of just wearing this mountain into nothing, and the winds it generated, pushing 300mphs, didn't help. But life wasn't fun without a gamble.

There was no time to break his focus, either. Playing rhythm, and lead at the same time was rough enough, all this math was just adding a headache, but he had to be ready. You don't end up Multi-Plat for nothing.
WRRRRREEEEEEHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ


A blast of blinding lightning fired from Gun-Gear, impossibly fast, and nearly twenty feet thick, it screamed through the air, splitting the sky in two with a flash that could be seen from orbit. With sweat dripping from his brow, Aedard the Soloist turned back to his skeleton buddy, offering a smile.

"We did it, brother."

The red creature merely shrugged, "Did what? Made some lightning?"

The guitarist just held up a finger, signalling for a pause.

"One Bloody-Troll-Hide, two bloody-troll-hide, thr-"

CRACK


The thunderclap echoed through the entire planet's atmosphere, the massive bolt of hellacious lightning wasn't done. In fact it was coming back, hurtling at massive speed, re-cracking the sky, and carrying with it the force of 392dB. More destructive force than a nuclear explosion.

The cherry-on-top was that it was aimed dead-center for Mount Killaman.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aedard Character Portrait: Zhou Myrkul

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The hellacious noise did in fact attract an audience. A thing of metal, mind, and sound newly forged by careful attendants. A song two stories high at the shoulder far more that in the span of blade-edged wings that rocketed it across the sky toward music. Music that wasn't a lazy groan from some fearful attendant of weak strings with his purple eyes that stared out from the creche. Red lights formed from blood and fire pushed into being above Mount Killaman flushed among clouds. The rage felt concordant with Zhou's inner echo a thing of nationalism and battle from a nation of mages and built to fly in the deepest fires of their wars. Clouds whistled loudly across the metal blades of its empty frame as Zhou threw itself to land on the ground before the red light mustered its strike.

The platinum-colored ferroplasm rammed pearlescent talons knee deep into the stone like it were clay as Zhou anchored itself at the foot of what would not remain a mountain. This not so small rumble of earth would soon be met by the will of Mankind. Arcs of psionic energy lanced between spars of its hardened ribs that pulse and flex like the anxious muscles they are. Points of bright turquoise eyes focused intently above a draconic maw of harsh ferroplasm teeth coated in flaking psistone enamel. Inside realized entropic will burned to experience real power.

Zhou's long bladed tail slammed down leaving a furrow two strong hands plunged into the earth to brace against an oncoming blast wave. As the wind picked up concordant tones threw sound in earnest with its metal humming. Zhou felt so very alive.

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Character Portrait: Aedard Character Portrait: Zhou Myrkul

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The explosion was nothing short of a localized taste of Ragnarock. Not only did the bolt of lightning flash blinding bright two separate times, but the force of impact was on par with a Nuclear Warhead. It even managed to cause a fission reaction, bathing the Boiling Plain's brand new crater in radioactivity. The planet-wide affects would be felt soon, from honest earthquakes far, and wide, to a Tsunami that could easily reach from Aesard to Wing City's sea-port, and even damage to the continents tectonic plates.

None of this phased the rock-star, however. Between his magic, his wards, and the bodily chemistry his home planet forced on human evolution, he was rather unscathed. His skeletons on the other hand.

There were no undead survivors.

He surveyed the massive hole he'd left, silencing Gun-Gear for the moment, and quite content with himself, when the metallic rustling of Zhou finally reached him. Whipping around on his heel, he froze when his eyes landed on the ferroplasm dragon, causing his mouth to gape.

"Holy fuck, man!" He called out, voice booming as if he had a microphone. "What the fuck are you, some kinda..Fully metal dragon? Damn this is rad. Hey, can you sing?"

He was too excited to be bothered with the normal politeness of meeting someone new, and far too arrogant to fear the thing might be pissed at him for any number of reasons, or here to kill him. Besides, a dragon made out of what looked like steel? That was fucking awesome, compared to all the normal fleshy dragons that made their homes in the Kryptkillian range.

He kinda wanted a picture of this marvelous beastie for his next album cover.

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Character Portrait: Aedard Character Portrait: Zhou Myrkul

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Zhou is blown back not because it is lifted by the shockwave but the sheer force of wind howling tones through its hollow body and the boulders ringing hard against its metal body. The rock its powerful rear legs were buried inside crumpled like so much clay as the Zhou's rippled ferroplasm skin tensed that it gave no ground. As the wind and rage of that shockwave died down the tonal scream faded to a carol of winds pushing back in from the implosion. Zhou eyed the destruction with a purple glow leaking through from the core of a sparking metal body. They were intellectual creatures but focused on the collective self of mankind rather than carrying a strong identity of their own collective like Jinhai. They were tools of metal to be used by those deemed worthy of the Emperor of Mankind. That such power existed in this mankind swelled the pips of light in his eyes to full attention.

Zhou's choral voice carried loudly in response. Along those belled winds it carried through a luminous mouth, hard edged tongue, and discerning eye now directed upon Aedard's stage, "The mankind sees a well graven image of strong creatures envied by many nations for their power. The power leaders sought to sit atop with fire and blood to lead the will the crowd with metal. He sees not merely that base steel that may crack but metal of the crowd's concordant heart beating for an enternal nation of Mankind. He knows as long as that crowd still beats and bleeds then edged metal will sing for blood spilled in their name. Even if just to bask in the roar of drumming feet hearing the thunderous concordance of crowd."

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Character Portrait: Aedard Character Portrait: Zhou Myrkul

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A great emerald beam of light suddenly shot towards the sky and made contact with Sol,
coming from somewhere deep within the Collenham Mountains, elsewhere on Aslund.

Sol and Terra seemed tethered together by a thin, bright, green string.