Time was up, and it wasn't as if waiting around the corner would help him find Yume. Jacey pulled out his blaster, turned the safety off, and carried it with him back to the bar.

==========

"You must have some experience with telepaths. They're a deceptive lot, and though I belong to that class of humanoid creatures I will not lie to you. I am here to hunt them. Well... one in particular. But I don't know who that is yet."
Bishop laughed.
"I've said enough already. Let's go, shall we?" Bishop held the hatch open for Elessa and slammed it shut behind them after exiting. Squiggy jolted upright in his seat, then sagged back down and continued snoring.

==========

Jacey reentered the No Name with his blaster ready. This time he noticed Matt at his corner table.
"Hey there! I finally found you!" Jacey yelled playfully. He nudged Dech aside and patted him on the back, saying, "Heh... you must not have noticed him here until I left. Oh well. You can make up for it by grabbing me a pair of drinks. Make it two Guinnesses."

Matt and Dech both knew the boy's cheerful tone was just an act, but the bartender decided he'd comply with his patron's request.

Jacey tossed his blaster onto the table.
"No, I'm not really going to use it," he said in a low voice. "I doubt a madman like you worries about death at the hands of someone like me."

Matt listened without saying a word.

"I just want to know what you did with Yume. I would like to speak with her."
Matt was curious about Jacey's ongoing preoccupation with Yume. He considered all the possible motives running through the boy's head.
"There seems to be something about her I need to know," Jacey quickly added. He winked at Matt.

Two cold ones arrived momentarily.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.

OOC: There's a downside to being serious all the time.
---------
After jacey leapt out from behind the palm tree and ran off to another secion of the bar, Page sat down on the big red booth, and put his legs up on the table. This was something Page did naturally, without any attention, but this time he called a whole lot of attention to himself.
RIPP!!

Squiggy opened the hatch of the Phalanx and threw out thirty pairs of different-sized black jeans, each extremely thin and somewhat long "for the lankier type of gentleman."

He had awoken due to a nightmare of zippered manbeasts with hairy chests and gilded loins. Yes, it was very freaky.

"I hope nobody steals those black jeans..." Squiggy mumbled as he settled back in his chair and fell back to a dreamless sleep.

-------
OOC: Ooooh, I'm telling Mom! Mark's going crazy again!

ooc: Soooooory! >_< School has been hectic to say the least. Yea, but rather than bore you with details of my woefully uninteresting life, I give you le post!

Yume stood, rather confused, after Cyden had taken the sword from her. She had sensed something very strange, the moment the cold, ringing steel had slid from its prison of rock. Something... empowering. It hadn't stopped when Cyden took the blade from her and disappeared. In fact, she could feel it growing.

Yume clutched at her chest suddenly, as if struck a blow, and then tilted her head up, chin pointing at the far off vaulted ceiling. Her arms rose up, as did her whole form, and her hair and clothing began to ripple, in a slight breeze where there was none. Her eyes shone, illuminating the dark and stony hall, her whole body lighting up like a torch, casting strange and shimmering shadows on the far off walls and on the floor.

The power was pulling her upwards, upwards and out it seemed. There was no pain, no discomfort... it felt like being carried in the air, flying higher and higher. She could not place a name on the feeling, as she was incapable of such emotions, but the feeling, nonetheless, was not objectionable.

Suddenly, it rose to a blasting fire, and Yume heard choruses of etheral voices, chanting, singing, screaming, all in a weird harmony that sounded sad at times, joyful at others, but always converging on a strange and spine tingling chord. Her frame seemed to be made of pure light, as she rose, as an angel, into the air, radiating pure brilliance into the shadows.

And then it stopped.

Time seemed to freeze for an instant, and then she fell. Righting herself, and bending her knees, as she had done before, she prepared to land on the floor, but instead, was caught. A pair of unthinkably strong hands gently set her down on the flagstones, and returned to their owners sides. A tall, 6'4" black haired man, it seemed, wearing the black robe of a preacher. His hair straight, reaching to the base of his collared neck, his eyes very narrow, but kindly. His features were hard, seemingly chiseled out of rock. He smiled genially down at Yume.

"Hello Yume. My name is Fettrin."

---

Cyden glared down at the sword. He kicked at its hilt.

"Speak! You've been released, after all!"

Cyden became suddenly aware of a presence behind him.

"So kind of you to be waiting here for me, with my sword." Said a deep and gentle voice.

Cyden turned slowly, drawing his warped blade. A tall preacher stood, with Yume at his side.

"I'll be taking it now, if you don't mind."

Cyden quickly stepped down on the sword.

"Who are you? I think I do mind-"

Cyden was cut short, as the sword flew up and forwards, into the right hand of Fettrin, fast as thought. Cyden lost balance and stumbled backwards.

"I am Fettrin. I'll leave you here to your own means of getting out of this place. I don't take kindly to rudeness."

Cyden jumped up, indignant, and charged, katana drawn. But the blade met only wisps of air, as Cyden was left, alone, on the plateau.

---

In an odd hallway of The Rock, two figures appeared, in a small conflagration of brimstone.

"Listen, I ask you to stay nearby me. If we are caught off guard, alone, it may mean certain ambush. Draw your weapons, and keep your senses alert."

Yume looked carefully at the tall figure that had just taken her back to the station. He held the massive sword in one hand, as if it was made of plastic. His eyes shone white and bright, piercing through the gloom of the corridor and beyond. So this was Fettrin?

ooc: Wee! So maybe I had too much fun with GarageBand... (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/FettrinsTheme.mp3")Fettrin's Theme.(/url)
(url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/FettrinsTheme.aif")Fettrin's Theme (hi kwalitee)(/url)

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Me Bar Pics Page-> (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html")http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html(/url)
'You couldn't get a clue during clue mating season in a field of clues if you smeared your body in musk and did the clue mating dance.' -Severin

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-30-2004).)

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-30-2004).)

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-30-2004).)

Yume scanned his human-looking form as he stood beside her. She didn't actually have to scan for his powers or capabilities. She already had a good calculation just from the sight of him and the readings she had gotten after she had pulled out the sword. But she already knew that his capabilities surpassed her calculations since they weren't exact without observation. She wouldn't be able to tell his full potential until he showed it, if he ever will.

Yume looked down hallway they had appeared at as she didn't even give a nod to his comment. If they were after Jacey, or anything of the sort. She nor Fettrin wouldn't even have to go anywhere near their full potential if Jacey was indeed human. Or so she thought, she hadn't even bothered to make sure in the time she had been with him. But nevertheless, this shouldn't be a problem at all. By calculating her memories of his physique, she had a exceptable analysis of Jacey's capabilities for now.

One of Yume's hands moved to her deliciously hip where one of her S-shaped weapons was tucked at. Oh no, she would not be ambushed again so easily as she remembered about the assassin. Did Yume like Jacey? Was she even capable of it? Who knew, she seemed to have not have change despite what had happened on The Rock. Perhaps all of Jacey's compassion and love for her had been in vain. But even Yume knew how to act, and she was perfectly convincing at times unless information leaked out.

Yume's face was expressionless as she kept her hand on her hip. Just so that it wouldn't be suspicious to anyone that she might actually draw something. It was common of a female to put her hand on her hip so drawing complete attention to herself was kept at a minimum hopefully. If Jacey indeed had betrayed, alleys with assassin, and after the ever increasing bounty on her head then he would have to be dealt with immediately.

But then Yume remembered the blind man and how he had hoped that she could possibly avoid anymore bloodshed. Yume could decide this time... She was not ordered to kill a person. It was her decision if she would kill Jacey and anybody involved with him that could possibly know about her. She would decide once the time comes if she would kill Jacey or let him live.

Yume was ready, she quickly got through her own thoughts and glanced to Fettrin as if saying she was ready to head off now whenever he was. Yume remembered the dagger that was in one of her boots, but she only used the dagger out of necessity. This was not one of those times... She didn't have to use that weapon against someone as Jacey. Yume looked down the hallway again as her sapphire eyes pierced through the darkness. She wanted to see Jacey... and she wanted to deal with him personally and alone if possible.

Jacey..., she thought as she stared out coldly into the distance while she waited for Fettrin.

------------------
Life is learning to find happiness in any situation, however bad it may seem.

OOC: falls out of chair laughing That post is even funnier with the fact that Larra probably has more variety of clothes than the entire Rock...though still none of them would fit Page...

And Jacey...that’s too easy....

==================

“I know you don’t mean that,” Larra teased, stepping out of her ship.

Futilely attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, the two made their way down the narrow, twisting hallways of the Rock, heading towards the section on the asteroid that had half-decent clothing stores.

For her part, Larra finally had enough self control to avoid giggling uncontrollably every time she caught a glimpse of the tablecloth-clad Vell-os out of the corner of her eye.

“Let’s get this over with as soon as possible,” Page complained, matching every amused stare he got with a glare of his own.

“It’s almost a welcome change,” Larra mused, smirking. “For once they’re staring at you instead of me.”

Page muttered something uncomprehensible and quickened his pace, using one hand to hold up his tablecloth. Holding back laughter, she followed. They had only gone a few more paces when Larra stopped, grabbing Page’s arm to stop him as well.

“You want to avoid much more embarrassment here, right?” she asked, staring at the corner ahead of them.

“My first mistake was going to you...”

Larra ignored that comment. “Then I think you should go stand behind that sales booth and stick a lamp shade on your head...”

Page stared at her in disbelief. “Why the **** would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered slowly, “ Maybe because Demon’s about to come around that corner, and you’ll never hear the end of this if he finds out?”

“I’ll never hear the end of this anyway,” he complained, but knew quite well that Demon would be much worse than Larra. Stepping over to a table near the wall, Page shoved aside the grizzled pirate who was tinkering with ship parts, aided by the light of a large floor lamp. Much to the pirate’s astonishment, he grabbed the brown, tasseled shade of the lamp and jammed it over his head.

“What the hell?!!”

“Just shut the **** up and go back to work!”

He was just in time, as a loud cry of “LARRA!” echoed through the tunnel, and a large dog came barreling around the corner.

“What are you doing here?” Demon demanded, trotting up. “You said that you’d stay on your ship and get some rest while I went for my walk.”

Just as the shapeshifter spoke, Larra’s uncanny ability to come up with a convincing story, no matter the circumstances, failed her completely. “Umm....shopping?”

Demon lifted one ear and cocked his head to the side. “For what?”

“Everything and nothing,” she answered. “As usual. I was getting a little depressed, and shopping always puts me in a good mood.”

“Sounds like fun!” the shapeshifter exclaimed, wagging his tail. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed that everyone was staring at a funny-looking lamp in the corner rather than gaping at the talking dog. “I’ll come too!”

Larra froze, just barely managing to keep herself from glancing over at Page and giving everything away. “Umm...well....I was planning on doing a little...” she pointedly cast her glaze around at the corridor, which was filled with men. Leaning down, she whispered the rest of her sentence into the shapeshifter’s ear. “...lingerie shopping...”

Demon coughed and looked around like a little boy caught with a “Playboy” magazine. “Never mind, I have something to do in the bar...” With that, he took off, weaving through the crowd.

Relieved, Larra straightened up, only to duck again as the ugliest lamp shade she had ever seen went whizzing by her head. “I’m sorry!” she yowled, “You find a better hiding place!”

Page strode on ahead, ignoring the pirate’s demands that he retrieve the lamp shade immediately. Larra had to jog to catch up. When they reached the first clothing store, the Vellosion grabbed her arm and pulled her in behind him. Larra started to make a comment about the first store not always being the best, but changed her mind.

Instead, she dove into the nearest rack of men’s clothing, rifling through it and pulling out a few things to examine them at arm’s length. “Hey Page, look at this!” she held out a pair of pants so brightly colored they made her eyes hurt. “Do you think they stole these off of that weird blind guy from the bar?”

“Not a word,” he snapped. Not at her, but at the owner of the store, simply daring the man to either laugh or point out the “No Smoking” signs posted around the area. Larra was unfazed.

“Oh Paaaaggeeee,” she interrupted in a singsong voice, appearing in front of him with an armload of pants. “I can’t know what you want without your input, but try these on anyway. Just for size. Please?”

OOC: Possibly my last post before school invades my life....but after this, how can I not push to find time for the No Name?

------------------
If all the world's a stage, why'd I get the part of the psycho?

By Jacey's estimate, approximately 3.1415926 seconds had passed since his drink had arrived, and Matt still hadn't spoken. He shut his eyes and relaxed while Matt carefully chose the words he'd use to explain the situation. The blind one didn't feel like making the boy unhappy.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.

OOC: No time, just moved on campus and classes start tomorrow. You’re lucky you get this much. Hiccups and slurring have been omitted because I’m not any good at writing like I’m drunk.

Jacey was acting like a boy again; many men did when they wanted something. Was it fear or jealousy? Probably neither. His views toward Yume were different now he was acting less love-struck and acting more like a rejected puppy. She hadn’t rejected him, he was sure of that from being with her. Perhaps the boy was concealing a deeper motive, it was always a possibility. Matt had seen Jacey’s “shadow” and knew that it was intent on hunting something. Since it was doubtful that Jacey didn’t know and work with the “shadow” he was likely hunting as well.

Matt wasn’t about to let a good act go to waste, he could still act drunk. He was very good at it but false drunkenness rarely fooled a bartender; it wouldn’t even be a problem with anyone else. Still he’d get his message across. “Mad? Do I look mad to you? I thought not.”

Jacey slowed down and asked his question again while Matt drank both of the beers. “Where is Yume?”

“Who’s Yume?”

Jacey had to admit that he’d never told Matt her name and not many people knew it, so he explained a little. “The woman you stole off the dumpster.”

“Stole? I’ve never stole in my life.”

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

Jacey was getting very irritated and he put his hand on the weapon again. “Where is Yume?” His voice was loud enough that several people at nearby tables decided it was a good time to move. Dech wandered a little closer and tried not to laugh at the exchange with a man he had just been getting fairly good information from.

“Who’s Yume?”

“Where is the girl that you took off the dumpster!”

Matt paused drunkenly and acted as though he finally understood the question. “I dunno.”

“What?” Jacey nearly screamed.

“After I fixed her up she left. I dunno.”

------------------
I move along the path alone, without a friend, without a home.
Yet though this tortured world I roam, knowing that my mind doth foam;
in madness shall I ever seek, an answer for the poor and meek.

"Leave the acting to the actors, ******* ." Jacey lifted his blaster to Matt's forehead, then tossed it aside and slapped the man across the face instead.

"You're just being mean to me, silly!" Jacey squealed, his eyes darting quickly to the other patrons whose faces had contorted in reaction to the odd exchange between the two men.

He lowered his voice again. "I don't understand you. Why can't you just give me a straight answer?"
Jacey grabbed his blaster and stuffed it back in his pocket.

------------------
I'll so offend to make offence a skill,
redeeming time when men think least I will.

OOC: This is undoubtedly one of the shortest story posts I've ever written.

He wouldn’t admit that he was faking but he could give the beginnings of an answer through the drunken façade. “Look kid, I never even got your name, let me tell you that I dunno where da girl is. She was hurt and I know medicine so I could fix her up, but after that she left.”

------------------
I move along the path alone, without a friend, without a home.
Yet though this tortured world I roam, knowing that my mind doth foam;
in madness shall I ever seek, an answer for the poor and meek.

(This message has been edited by Paranoid (edited 08-30-2004).)

Fettrin glanced back down at Yume, and started forward. As he walked towards the more well lit corridors, he took his sword, and let it slide down into his sleeve, with a hiss of steel, like some enormous throwing knife. It disappeared from view, and no bulge showed in the fabric, even though the hilt and blade should’ve been obviously apparent. Just before Fettrin stepped out into the lighted corridor, he paused, then brought two fingers up to his closed eyes, pressing lightly. When he opened them again, he had directional eyes, the irises a deep goldenrod, the pupils large and probing.

“Couldn’t go in looking like a blind man now could I?” Fettrin chuckled, and then winked at Yume. Was that a hint? Did he know about... such inferences were illogical. Yume matched his stride.

“I understand you may wish to face Jacey solo. I will respect this decision, should you choose to make it, but I must warn you; the reason I am accompanying you is not to protect you from Jacey alone. There are those on this station who would not look kindly on the... administration of justice to those they thought innocent.”

Yume had taken this into account, but she had been prepared to carry out any operation with stealth, not resorting to force to protect herself, should the need arise. And how much did he know about herself and Jacey? Fettrin seemed to know far too much for her comfort, and he hadn’t been reading her thoughts since she blocked her mind off. Could he just have been guessing?

“Hmm, one moment please. I believe it would do well to show myself before I show myself, if you catch my drift. Take this stone in your hand, and follow me.”

Yume caught the small, oval pebble as it was tossed to her. It felt smooth to the touch, and spread a feeling of calm over her entire body. It was not a knockout trick, her senses were still functioning perfectly. She looked up at Fettrin, and froze.
aw a terrible, armoured demon, standing stooped in the corridor. Its massive eyes glowed deep, blood red, and its wicked teeth formed a perpetual grin. It seemed to have an exoskeleton, made of what looked like stained bone, streaked with a yellowish tint. In one of its massive, scythe-clawed hands, it grasped the sword of the Styx, the other was open, showing each of the 10 inch long bladed claws to their full extent. It was partially crouched, even with its back bent over, and the claws that extended out from under its massive haunches rivaled even the size of its fingers. She smelled a strange sort of musty, dry, acrid scent about the demon, and noticed a few streams of yellow smoke rising out between tiny cracks in between its teeth. The demon gave a short laugh, its sharp teeth clashing against eachother.

“Now now, you knew perfectly well I was a demon. This stone is a stone of perception. To you, and only you, I appear as a huge, nasty creature of bone! But to me, and to others, you appear as a small, cloaked figure. You have no face, no hands, no feet. You are invisible, save the cloak that defines where you walk, defines what you would look like, if you would only show yourself for who you were. Futhermore, there is no way of penetrating your disguise, because, it is true. Any thoughts you make can pertain to who you are, who you look like. You may carry the stone for as long as you like, but you will find it a great aid in maintaining a disguise. No psy-poking will find you out now, especially since you've evolved to resist psychic inquiries. Now then, follow me."

The tall preacher and the short hooded figure made their way to the bar.

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-31-2004).)

(This message has been edited by Hamster2 (edited 08-31-2004).)

Jacey blinked. He had come here for nothing. I guess it's time... he thought, for a final poem.

He checked his pockets and came up with... nothing.

Sighing heavily, Jacey leaned forward, propped his head up on his hand, and opened his mind to images appearing before him.

==========

Bishop stood still at the dock. He was trying to pick up an active telepathic mind. Erratic activity had been going on for the past few weeks, but this was the first time he had tried to locate a specific mental energy signature.

"Please wait while I figure out who we're looking for," he said to Elessa.

==========

Squiggy slept on. He would have been pronounced dead long ago - if it weren't for the snores sending tremors through his entire body.

OOC: I'm out of here, folks. See ya again some day.

Page grabbed the pants and pouted all the way to the dressing room. He slipped them on, and gagged when he looked in the mirror. Iridescent pink wasn't his color, they fit fine at he waist but the legs were baggy enough to fit several other people in.
And then Page felt it. A presence he hadnt felt for years became a thousand times stronger. All of these distractions had made Page overlook the bigger picture. Fettrin had a strangely large influence here, and the fact that it grew could only mean one thing. Not only was he free, but he was here right now.
"****!" Page yelled as loud as he could, he sent his fist through the wall and bolted out of the clothing store. All Larra could see was a flash of black and bright fourescent shimmering pink, and then she had to duck to avoid the dressing room door which had flipped off its hinges,and slammed ino the clothing rack behind her.
Then she felt the powerfull presence nearby aswell. She too made her way out of the store.
The shop's owner however still sat on his stool.
"I didnt think he'd like those pants that much," he sighed, and picked up the door.
-----------
Page had long since drawn Antaries, and was charging to the bar. This was the fastest he'd ran since he came to this universe. Suddenly he tripped and fell HARD. He skidded to a stop and looked back to see what he had tripped on. It was the holy grail of stretch jeans. Thirty or so pairs were just strewn on the floor. Page looked forward to Fettrin, and then back to the pants.
"He can wait a minute," Page shot up and as quickly as he could put on a pair of the somewhat worn black stretch jeans. The first pair he picked up fit perfectly, and he strapped on his belt and holster, and the several metal rings he wore around his legs.
He shot forward again.
-----------
Fettrin stepped into the bar, and as soon as he took his first step something grew in his awareness. Before he was even able to identify it he was knocked off his feet, and into a wall. Page flipped back and over, landing lightly on a table on the other end of the bar.
"Care telling me how you got out?" Page said smugly, spitting his cigarette butt onto the floor.

------------------
"WE ARE THE POPES OF THE PYROS!!" "WE ARE THE CRUSADERS OF CAPELLA!!" "THE FRIARS OF FIRE!!" "THE BAPTISTS OF BORAL 1!!!!" "THE CATHOLIC KILLERS OF NEW CALCUTTA!!!!!!" "WE ARE THE GOOD!! no.. no... THE BAD!!! yeah.. thats it.. THE BAD CATHOLICS!!!"

Yume wanted to tell Page that she had let Fettrin out but then again that would blow her cover. She glanced to Fettrin and wondered if he was alright and if he was even hurt by such an attack. She kept her distance from them for now as she held the stone Fettrin had given her. It seemed like Fettrin and that Vellosian had a connection. Why else would Page attack Fettrin?

Yume right now didnt' help Fettrin in fear that Jacey might notice her as she had caught sight of him not too far away. If Fettrin needed her help, he would tell her in some way. And if he didn't need her help, she could go on with getting Jacey all to herself. She stood there silently as her disguise stayed up while she caught a few eyes here and there but the people didn't pay her too much mind thankfully. They were more curious if there was going to be a fight.

No one would recognize her thanks to her disguise and she already had a plan that would hopefully work in getting Jacey out of the bar and to a more private place. She glanced to Jacey and then that's when she noticed the blind man. She nearly twitched as she saw him but she kept herself in check although she couldn't keep the memory of their encounter from crossing her mind.

She gripped the stone a little tighter but not too tight so that she wouldn't break it. Yume slowly went to a far corner where the shadows lurked and stayed in there for now as she hoped that her employeer would be too busy with watching or doing something about the fight. She didn't think the blind man would do anything... And she also didn't want Jacey to get involved in the fight.

She needed to act now before Jacey decided to get involved. Her cloaked figure glided past the table he was at while Jacey wasn't looking and when he glanced back to the table after feeling a slight breeze to see a note upon the table. Yume watched from a distance as Jacey grabbed the not and scanned it before he frowned a little and tucked the note into the pocket of his pants.

Yume hoped that Jacey would heed the note and it seemed like he would. She had no worries now of him being delayed, if he read the note he wouldn't get involved with the fight and would leave after a while. She didn't want him to leave exactly after he read the note, it would look too suspicious and she had also told him in the note that not to tell anyone about the note.

Yume, certain that Jacey would stay put and keep his mouth shut for a while until he would leave the bar to the place she had told him to go if he didn't see her come to the bar. For now, Yume stayed at a distance and watched the Vellosian and Fettrin to see if Fettrin might need her help or if he would deal with the Vellosian himself and let her go off with Jacey to do with him whatever she wanted.

------------------
Life is learning to find happiness in any situation, however bad it may seem.

Fettrin removed himself from the wall, brushed himself off, and frowned at Page.

"Well, well, well, cast the first stone, Judas."

That was low. Page grimaced, and stated his question again.

"How the hell did you get out?"

"I get by with a little help from my friends."

Fettrin smiled, and stepped over to the bar, taking a seat.

"Won't you join me? Bartender, a drink for myself and my friend here."

Page stood, a look of mixed disgust and suprise on his face.

The rest of the patrons, seeing that a fight was not going to be likely, returned to nursing their drinks, and carrying on in general. Fettrin's smile grew a little broader, and he arched an eyebrow.

"Page, don't you understand? I don't want to kill you. You did rob me of a pleasure I had been seeking for nearly an eternity, in your duel with Jasan, but I can forgive and forget."

Page still stood, looking at the figure seated on the stool. Of all the nerve, he had the gall to disguise himself as a preacher. Irony would be an understatement.

"Come now, I don't expect you to trust me! Just give me a little slack here. Have I done wrong in your eyes to walk into this fine establishment and order a beverage? Or has there been a galactic prohibition since I've been gone?"

Here Fettrin leaned back and laughed. A perfectly normal laugh. Try as he might, Page couldn't sense any insincerity in Fettrin's voice, but this only made him more suspicious.

"Since you evaded my first question, tell me, why are you here?"

Fettrin's gaze became completely serious, and he looked Page right in the eyes. He spoke in a low, slow voice,

"What would you do if you hadn't had a drink for a thousand eons?"

Fettrin flashed a smile, and motioned for Page to sit down.

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Me Bar Pics Page-> (url="http://"http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html")http://homepage.mac.com/ami/Menu1.html(/url)
'You couldn't get a clue during clue mating season in a field of clues if you smeared your body in musk and did the clue mating dance.' -Severin

((ooc: gaaaaahhhhh!!! x.x sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry for not posting in so freaking long!!!))

Elessa restlessly paced in tight circles beside the still Bishop, mind still reeling. She had no idea what to think of these...there was no way around it...these feelings she was having regarding Jacey. She was very irritated with herself; this wasn't like her, dammit! She was calm, collected, murderous...and yet something had stopped her from killing this other man. Despite the fact that he'd sliced her hair and cut her up a little, not to mention knocked her out. Those conditions would be more than enough to make her kill anyone else...so why not him?
A sound of frustration, sounding like a growl, rose from her throat. Why couldn't she get him out of her head? Now her mind was going in circles just like her feet!

((ooc2: I figured some more drama was needed XP))

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Hm...looks around How much madness and mayhem can I create here?

Gosh, I was away for only two days and now look at this gotta find some time to read through all this

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The lie is a truth, too. The truth of the one who believes it.
The Boozerama Bar died 05-10-2003. May it rest in peace. May it rest for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and may it never return.

... here it all begins... the beginning - as they say - of the end...

Give me something good to return to, folks.

OOC: Well, after being graciously informed by Ozy, I finally found the new boards Sorry if I caught on a little after all of youz. -_-;;

OOCmk.II: :blink: Uhh, is this gonna be the permanent board, or are they doing muy updating on the old one? Ah well. Here's a bit of story that should go in the Nova bar, but, since it isn't up yet, I figured it would vaguely pertain to the story at hand. -_-

Far below the physical plane, down, down into the inky nothingness, past life, and past hope sat the monstrosity of Hell. The Plain of Torch, surrounded on all sides by mountainous ripples, shoved away by the constant force pushed out of that pit. Nothing but bare, windswept rock, for miles on end. Sulfur and brimstone tainted the dry and suffocating air, choking any foolish enough to approach this center of suffering. The only thing visible accross the baked landscape, the great pillar of smoke and fire. Not that of cloud and fire, but that of blackest soot, and piercing streaks of crimson.
All the tales of the world cannot express the heat and sorrow that overflowed out of that great pox upon the surface of the Plain of Torch. The great, sloping pit curving in, down, down into the depths of the Netherworld, where, at the center, the Evil One is seated at his great throne of souls. He spawns the trickery, the lies, the deceit of all creation, taking pleasure in pain, and gaining strength from sorrow.
He watched in sick glee, even as the mighty warlord Kergoth wreaked havoc on the ancient plains of battle, watched in contempt as D’nel fought among the others, and won their victory. He watched, and listened, and formed a mighty plan.
The pieces were set in play, and they had been making their way, inexorably towards the center of the board, to free the ancient evil. Satan watched as Tesshe created her mighty army of Rasputins, watched as even now, the Skysayer was being driven to violence. And he watched as his own son, Fettrin, a key factor in the master plan, was finally set free, to wreak his vengeance on Jasan, the swordbearer, the tip in the balance, that would win the evil victory.
His son, who now was gathering his power, setting the final pieces in place while he stayed in the older universe. Fettrin, wielder of the Sword of the river Styx. He used his puppets, his Nirttefs, to create his escape, using the ‘souless’ as a key. Satan craved that soul; such a tormented being. If she was given emotions, if she was to feed a passion, he would have her in his grip, a beautiful instrument playing to his symphony of death. And there was Jacey, who had much in his future. Much that could be turned to great acts of darkness, and much that would need to be stopped. The Devil decided to leave the young Jacey to Fettrin, once he had seen to Jasan. In fact, once Kergoth had his release, Fettrin could have free range over the entirity of the Override universe, for all Satan cared. Soon, all would be bent to the side of blackness, the oncoming tide of doom would spread such a deluge over the multiverse that none could survive.
Tesshe, in her mighty tower, was not yet aware of the auxillary forces Satan had been mustering in the physical realm of the Netherworld. For this decisive assault, he would have none of these ice demons, those were shock troops out for hire. Instead, a more striking example of the twisted power of hell was in order. Something that would stab a dagger of fear into the heart of any living creature. And so, Satan had bred a force of Devigods, each one’s will tethered to his own power, each one’s eyes pierced with the same gaze of despair and guilt. They stood, massive testaments to the evil powers. Titans of chaos, and lords of death. Such monstrous warriors would make even the holy paladins hard pressed, and in such numbers as had been spawned, the forces of good would be pushed to the brink, and come the reign of Kergoth, would be further pushed into void.
Not only did he see such mighty forces to the oncoming battle, he also saw the pawns to their places. The unscrupulous pirates, the love of opals and power netting them in the Evil One’s trap of greed. They, along with all the twisted government, with their slaves and generals, would be turned against the bulwark of good. Billions and billions would rally under the banner of cruelty, drawn by an intangible force. Using the faithful lure of power, a trick nearly all mortals fell for, Satan could very well gather nearly every corrupt soul in the entirity of this new universe, this Nova universe.
By having the defenders fight against these mercenaries, Satan would force the protagonist to kill their fellow soul, tainting their own with each murder, and bringing each defender closer to that which they were defending against. Once bathed in the blood of fellow humans, whose intentions were merely misguided, even the most justified of warriors could fall into despair. Not even the battle-hardened heart of the Auroran, nor the amplified soul of the Vell-os could stand forever against a host of murderous innocents.
The Old Devil grinned, his mood spreading outward and inward through all of Hell. Imps screamed in delight, demons gnashed their teeth in joy, and the host of Devigods roared, and clashed their great spears against their colossal battle-shields. It was now merely a matter of time, a commodity which was an unlimited resource to The Tempter. After all, time is and has always been the precursor to an ending. And so, wreathed in screaming fire, surrounded by the wailing souls of the damned, and seated at his mighty throne, Lucifer waited.

OOC The Third: And I'm still waiting for Valence

OOC: You had to bring this in just as I was reading Milton. Sigh... and my post is ignored. Oh well, it wasn't the best thing I've ever written and it was slightly out of character. Edited away.

IC:
Things were changing, and quickly. He felt another soulless in the room, physically it wasn't Yume, it couldn't be. Yet, it was not soulless, other than in name. It had to be Yume. He was much more interested in her accompaniment, it had the barest sign of humanity. A tinge of perversion that identified it's ilk, the creatures that self-righteously called themselves demons. This one apparently had past connections with at least one of the repeats, and was probably at least partially in league with Yume, probably viewing her as a tool. Perhaps it was fortunate that Jacey had slipped out a moment before they arrived. The creature payed little, if any, attention to Matt. He was concentrating on one he considered much more important, the Vellosian repeat. Now would probably be the best time for Matt to act, whether to interfere with the creature, talk to Yume, or simply leave the issue to solve itself. Leaving was against his nature, and Yume was likely to ignore him to preserve her "cloak of shadows." His best chance was to keep silent until it was necessary to act. He looked slightly different then the rest of the patrons, but he didn't look any more dangerous. He'd just sit and listen. His hearing was good enough that it didn't matter how quietly the creature debated with the repeat he'd hear them.

This post has been edited by Paranoid : 12 September 2004 - 10:20 PM