Old wood fibers strained to maintain structure. A few gave nearly gave in, and even a few failed. The result was a loud creak as Jacey leaned back in his chair.

Yume's concerns did little to change Jacey's mind. "Right... well it's true we can't always get what we want..." his eyes left hers but continued to flicker green in the light. He studied the way the rafters sagged a little at the ceiling's center, the way the supporting steel was beginning to be exposed to the damp air.
Now Yume's face. Smooth skin. Lacking a little color these days, but not unhealthy looking. Her eyes sparkling gems, as always. But they looked sad.
Jacey sighed, then smiled broadly. "I am glad you worry on my behalf. But before you concern yourself with my fate, please tell me..." Jacey straightened up, and the chair gave an audible crack. "Are you afraid of dying?"

A quick dart of his eyes to the worn planks lining the bar and Jacey was convinced. This place would burn well.

This post has been edited by JaceySquires : 17 August 2005 - 05:50 PM

"All right everyone, are we all comfortable?" Asked Hamster, in his sweetest voice.

Mumbled, grumpy consent came from the figures seated in the plush chairs. The counseling office held Larra, Page, Savage, Fettrin, and Demon. Hamster was standing on his desk, with a little clipboard.

"So, let's get things started. It looks like we haven't been very active lately, hmm?"

Fettrin bristled slightly, and responded, "It's not my fault, Larra was supposed to do something after I posted!"

Larra immediately stood, and responded, "Hey! I was going to ask Page about something! You want me to just post fluff because it'll push the storyline along?"

"What are you implying, mortal!?" Yelled Fettrin.

"Calm down, calm down. Let's ask Page what he thinks. Page?" Asked Hamster.

Page was slouched in his chair, with his chin touching his chest. He made no move to reply.

"Page?" Hamster asked, a little louder.

Demon got up, nudged Page, who let his head fall onto the arm rest. It was obvious he was asleep.

Hamster slapped his forehead.

Hamster, on Aug 22 2005, 01:40 PM, said:

SNIP
View Post

TGF stumbles into the bar, obviously inebriated.

"Whuthufugger, you guys still doin' here..." He trails off into mumbles of incoherency, and collapses.

OOC: Hi.

OOC: HEY!! Sorry all I fell into a bottomless pit, and I just got out. Sorry to keep you all waiting. And as far as savage, he’s yours to deal with do as you wish. Now this post contains some adult content, so you younger ones out there pay attention :p.
But seriously here it is!
----------------
Page's eyes cracked open. His vision was slightly blurred, or at least there was nothing to see but a blurry smokey dim lit room.
Page yawned then began to close his eyes.
"Mmmmm," Page's eyes shot wide open, when he heard the noise come from his right.
Page tried to roll over but realized his shoulder was pinned slightly. When he turned his head to see what it was his nose smacked into a hard object covered in a jumble of long stringy and soft things. If Page knew better he would have called this hair.
Instead he said something along the lines of..
"GAHH! WHAT THE ######!" Page sceamed leaping to his feet. His head hit the ceiling, and slammed back down onto the soft floor. Page shook his head and saw three sets of eyes locked on him.
It soon struck him.. He was on a large bed, and there were three scantily clad women, passable for humans (although one had pointed ears and tiger stripes). Normally Page would have been delighted to be in this situation but he was confused. And to be honest still a little bit delghted.
"Whats wrong?" the fair skinned one asked, covering herself in the purple sheet.
"Err... How did this happen?" Page asked, looking down and realizing he was wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with pink hearts all over them.
"You know very well what happened," The tanned one said dropping the sheet that was covering her and crawling towards Page on all fours.
Page pushed her back by her face with an open hand.
"Sorry, not in the mood." He flipped his long boney legs over the side of the bed and stood up scratching his head. He spotted his clothes and the burlap roll at the far end of the room.
“That’s not what you said an hour ago!” The woman replied.
“A ######ING HOUR AGO?!?!!” Page practically leapt across the room and into his pants.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The attractive tiger woman asked.
Page didn’t reply he concentrated on getting his feet back into the soft-soled shoes the Maestro had provided.
“ANSWER ME!” The striped woman screamed. Page’s senses told him to duck, so he ducked narrowly avoiding the sheet of weave that streak over him and obliterated the nearby wall.
“Well thanks for the kicks but I’ve gotta go,” Said a fully clad Page, the long burlap roll leaning precariously over his boney shoulder.
Page bolted out of the door and down the hallway. His senses told him to duck again, so the vellosian dropped to the ground avoiding another weave blast.
“TIME TO DIE!” the three women screamed in unison. Turns out they all had some sort of weave capability.
Page spotted the end of the hallway, and shot towards it like a bat outta hell. He careened through the curtain and slammed into something most easily described as a soft, damp wall. Page plummeted to the ground, and snapped his head up. He hadn’t run into a wall, it turned out to be a gargantuanly huge man. Not only was the man at least seven and a half feet tall, he was almost seven and a half feet wide. Page shuddered as the quivering mass of hairy flesh turned.
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU YOU LITTLE MAGGOT!!!”
Page yelped, and flipped up, narrowly avoiding the giant whip that cracked the ground where he sat.
Page landed lightly on his feet, and noticed the three women had followed him into the large chamber. It was like most of the others, covered in white curtains, except the ceilings were higher and in the center of the white curtained frame of the back wall was a set of giant steel doors.
“Who is this worm?” The abomination of a man asked the women.
“He looked like a worker stopping by for his break, but then he left and insulted me.
“Hey Hey Hey,” Page piped up from across the room, “I didn’t so much stop in as peek my head inside and pass out.”
“QUITE YOU MAGGOT!” The man roared, he cast out his giant whip, but Page was just beyond its reach. The vellosian didn’t flinch as the razored end passed a few inches from his chest.
“Don’t worry girls I’ll kill this scum.”
“But!” The striped one detested.
“The Maestro would be very upset if her concubines were hurt.”
“I can take this punk on my own,” the fair skinned one said.
“Oh really? Page replied into her ear!
“WHA!” The giant whip descended, but Page’s lanky figure shot into the air, when the whip struck the alabaster floor Page landed on top of it.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE PICKING A FIGHT WITH THE MAESTRO?!”
Page smiled.
The huge man pulled the whip out from under Page, and the vellosian flipped up into the air. After an impressive acrobatic display Page landed next to where he was standing.
“YOUR GONNA DIE!” The three women drew knives similar to the one Savage used and charged. Page spun the burlap roll around his neck and flipped the sword over his shoulder. The striped woman got within arms reach from Page but before she was able to plunge her knife into him she fell subject to the spinning burlap roll and sailed backwards.
The huge man attacked Page, instead of dodging this time page held up the burlap roll. One could see Pages arms shudder with the blow, and the force was also strong enough to make the burlap explode off of Page’s sword. Page staggered back and flexed his shoulder.
“Man that’s some strong wrist you’ve got there.”
“HAH! YOU DARE FACE ME?!”
Page smirked.
The huge man lifted his arm and struck the ground with his whip. Page stood about a foot off of where the whip landed.
“You missed,” Page mused.
“Look down,” The huge man said. Page looked down, the razor tipped leather was wrapped around his ankle.
“Now look behind you,” Page heard behind him.
The vellosian twisted around, Antaries outstretched, hoping to draw blood from one of the concubines. As Page anticipated he was pulled into the air by the huge mans whip, the razors digging into his ankle. Page was bombarded with weaves while he was in the air and came crashing to he ground behind the behemoth.
“Damn that sucked,” Page muttered from his bed of broken floor tiles.
He sprang to his feet and with a swift stroke of his sword he sliced off the end of the Leather whip. The razored tip still wrapped around his left ankle.
The Concubines charged, Tiger came on the right, Fair on the left and Tan dropped down from above.
Page grinned.
He dashed forward, throwing his shoulder into Tiger. She stumbled and crashed to the tile floor dropping her knife. Tan’s ariel strike was overshot, and she landed awkwardly, stumbling around to launch a ground attack at Page. Page hurdled over Fair, pushing back on her so she too landed on the floor. Page finally found himself slamming forehead first into Tan’s head sending the concubine to the ground.
The whip once again lost a foot of length as Page hacked at the oncoming strip of leather. Unfortunately the bit of severed whip still connected with the vellosian’s shoulder, and left one hell of a welt.
Page didn’t waste any time, and charged forward at the behemoth. He hacked away another section of the whip, but found Antaries, wrapped in the remainder. He still powered forward, and Antaries’ tail blades would have been imbedded in the huge mans neck, if tiger hadn’t recovered, and gotten between the two.
Her knife was pressed against Page’s throat, but Antaries’ shimmering blade lay on her shoulder, pressed against her throat, the tail blades positioned at the Giant mans throat.
The other concubines stared in awe at the obscenely awkward and unlikely position the three were in. They calculated and took their routes planning a seemingly fail proof attack on the contorted Page.
Page looked over his shoulder.
“###### ”
Fair and Tan reached their attack points but before they could plunge their knives into The seemingly defenseless Page, A green flash blinded them, for a second and the stalemate got a little more improbable.
Tan found a sleek black blade to her throat, and she dropped her knife at the surprise of the cold steel to her neck. Fair found herself in an even more uncomfortable position, Page’s arm, was around her neck and Ungar’s Blade tipped chain was wrapped around her knife wilding hand.
“Still wanna kill me?” Page snickered, between pants.
“Don,” A foreign voice yelled.
All five heads turned simultaneously, their eyes landing on the Maestro, who just so happened to drop by on her routine visit.
“Score!” Page yelled.
----------------
OOC: Okay all, what better way to make a comeback then with an obscenely long post?
This will all be resolved in my next post, and we get to learn a bit about our Maestro and get of this God forsaken Station!!!!!!!!!
Edit:spelling and continuity:/Edit

This post has been edited by Valence : 29 August 2005 - 02:33 AM

Valence, on Aug 29 2005, 07:23 AM, said:

“That’s not what you said an hour ago!” The woman replied.
View Post

OOC: Aww man, Page gets all the action 'round here! XD But seriously, good to have you back, Valence.

The three figures stood, glaring at one another. Larra and Savage were torn up pretty bad, and Fettrin was having an all-around bad day.

Fettrin slid the Sword of the Styx around himself in a circle, creating a pillar of festering yellow steam. The cloud it produced billowed up towards the ceiling, and soon the whole room was obscured. Larra decided to back to a wall, so she could at least protect her front.

Suddenly, bone clashed against steel, as a 20 foot tall skeletal demon slammed a claw down on the crouching figure of Savage. The sound of tendons snapping, as Fettrin mercilessly pressed down, twisting Savages back out of place, echoed through the chamber. With a sudden scream, Savage sprang back, and threw off the bony, spiked claw. Caught off balance, Fettrin stumbled, raised a massive foot, swung it around, and impaled Savage's right thigh on it. Savage sailed into the air, stuck with the spine of the demon's foot.

Larra sprang forward, and struck at the dangling Savage. His feet fell with a plop on the floor.

Savage flew off the spiked foot, and into a wall, the surface of which cracked like an eggshell. A sudden whistling sound flew from Fettrin's body, as he reformed into his preacher guise.

"Larra, let us finish it." Growled Fettrin.

"Yes, let's."

The footless Savage erupted towards them with an unearthly scream, "HRAAAAAAUGH!"

Fettrin and Larra moved together with razor precision, crossed blades, and-

---

As the Maestro walked with a cold stare towards Page, her foot faltered for half an instant, mid-step. She continued on. Page's eyes gleamed, and his grin widened.

This post has been edited by Hamster : 29 August 2005 - 09:03 PM

TGF notices the fight through his drunken stupor.

"Wagers! Anyone care to wager on the winners?!?"

OOC: Screw all this mumbo-jumbo story-ness. BACK TO THE ROOTS!

Hamster (or at least a trans-dimensional reflection of him, as he is currently involved in an entirely seperate bar) stumbles into the bar, burps, farts, and orders several beers.

"TGF, woah! :BELCH: That's fricking awesome!" Yells Hamster.

Hamster falls over, asleep, and begins to soak in a puddle of his own urine.

OOC:

OOC: Eeeeee! Valence and TGF are back! Yay! hugs
Awwww, don't you all feel sorry for Page? He forgot it all! Ha!

Had to revise a lot of the post I wrote before due to Hamster's post, and then added some Ta-vora and Demon stuff 'cuz I'm in a good mood...heh. I think I'll continue the last half of this in my next post, no time now.

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

Larra and Fettrin stood side by side, both staring at the mangled, lifeless body of their opponent. The Sword of Styx angled out of the left side of the bloody torso, plainly having sliced the heart in half. Larra’s sword was a perfect line of symmetry, dividing the complex designs drawn on Savage’s forehead. Her other one was somewhere across the room.

”Satra min, kel trelico nar,” Larra whispered coldly, her eyes glittering freakishly with some unknown emotion. Then the look passed, as her subconscious discovered Nevell’s influence and hurled him violently back into the deep recesses of her mind.

The other telepaths spoke softly, incomprehensibly, echoing in her head yet just out of reach. Still, Larra could detect a tone of worry in their voices. She frowned, unable to fathom why. The six of them, not including Nevell, had fought in perfect tandem. Since she had gotten to know them, Larra was acutely aware of the roles, even the minor ones, that they played in her mind.

However, the young Acaran had a much more pressing matter to worry about, without the whisperings of the voices in her head. Silently she battled with her options. It turned out that she and Fettrin were able to work quite well as a team, and she had little doubt that the two of them could take Crescent Station apart. But still...she didn't trust him, or his motives. Wait, and it might be too late.

“Glad that’s over,” Fettrin muttered, giving Larra a funny look. She looked dazed, and he was sure she had said something not mean for him. “Take down your barrier, and then we can go,” the demon added, eager to get moving again. “You’re wasting time.”

Larra’s expressing turned to one of focus almost immediately. “Actually, I’m saving us time. By expanded my barriers into Gaile’s network, we will soon be able to move around the station freely. Our captors, on the other hand, will be conveniently detained.” It wasn’t a lie, or at least it wasn't just after Larra had said it. She could already feel her awareness spread across Crescent Station like a big mental map as she took down and replaced the Maestro’s defenses.

“Well hurry it up,” the arch-demon stated uneasily. It seemed, even to him, that the more he learned about her odd ways, the less he actually to know, or even wanted to know.

The Acaran didn’t reply for a minute or two, much to Fettrin’s annoyance. Then the final decision was made, and she turned her head slowly and met the arch-demon’s yellow eyes. For a short time the two had joked and even gotten along while fighting the common enemy, but now her intense violet glare seemed to drag their relations right back to square one. “Why are you helping us again?” she asked softly.

Fettrin smiled darkly, and definitely not nicely. “I told you already. Is your memory really that bad? Pity, I though you were smarter than that.”

The Acaran didn’t need to be reminded why she really should stay on his good side, yet she plunged on. “You didn’t tell us. I didn’t push it then, but we’re out of immediate danger now.”

The demon laughed. It was an eerie, hollow sound. “Out of danger? You really think your situation has improved that much?”

“Yes,” Larra said simply. She did not offer an explanation. It was far to dangerous for someone like Fettrin to have a decent idea of how her mind worked.

“You don’t even know what’s happening to your friends right now. They could be in grave trouble.”

“Page can take care of himself.” I hope “The others are fine.” Larra stated firmly. The last half she knew for sure. “So why not tell me why you’re here. I'll be satisfied with just a simple, true, answer. Unfortuantely, I’ve grown far too cynical to believe it’s out of the goodness of your heart.”

With a grim smile she waited; her mind already weaving around the nearby barriers, ready to command them. Just in case. Desrin, my friend, this is where you might have help me....

========================
“Aw, please? For me?”

Ta-vora glared at the shapeshifter. “I don’t see the point to this. You need to be serious and we need to find our stuff.”

Even as he whined pitifully, Demon’s ears and tail drooped in over-exaggerated sorrow. “If you don’t do it, I don’t think I can find the strength to go on...” he trailed off dramatically, slumping to the ground.

Staring at the pathetic shapeshifter sprawled on the ground, Ta-vora wondered for the thousandth time since they had left the battle, Why me? “Fine,” he consented. “If you’ll behave. I don’t know how Larra puts up with you.”

Demon heard nothing after the word “Fine”. With a cheer of ecstasy, he leaped to his feet. “Okay, repeat after me! Goin’ on a bear hunt!” He chanted the last few words; six feet stepping in time, many whiplike tails lashing the air above him, and childish glee written all over his eerie doglike face.

Ta-vora mumbled something incomprehensible.

“I can’t hear you! Louder!”

At this point, the Ka-nuth normally would have argued that being loud and being sneaky at the same time just doesn’t work. But he had already given up on that. “Going on a bear hunt.” he deadpanned, raising the volume slightly.

“I’m not scared,” Demon continued as he turned a corner and headed off in a new direction.

Ta-vora paused to bang his head against the white-curtained wall before repeating the phrase and following the shapeshifter. Thank goodness they were drawing near to his matrix - the Ka-nuth could feel it.

OOC: Ta-vora, still around? Hope this post was as clear as mud...I usually manage to screw up somehow when I add and delete stuff from something I've already written. :blink:

Matt’s blank eyes gazed silently forward as he relived the life of Savage. Those damn repeats kept showing up everywhere he went. They fashioned themselves heroes, fighting Fettrin and his evil. Unfortunately, as with all people who thought too highly of themselves, they were being used by forces they didn’t understand. Just like how Matt was trying to use Kaski.

That thought drew his mind back to what his ears could hear. Kaski was breathing heavily and seemed shocked. Matt’s first impulse was to go over and tell the kid to relax, but he prudently held back. The boy was more frightened of him than of anything else.

What had he seen? Was it something in the bar? Matt surveyed the place quickly with his staff and nothing was unusual.

What could cause a hardened assassin to hyperventilate? An involuntary groan came to Matt’s lips when he realized what it was. Kaski was seeing Matt’s vision, the life and death of Savage. With no previous experience the boy wasn’t even sure which life was his. Matt sighed and paced around the bar, still cloaked in invisibility. This unforeseen consequence was going to be very difficult to manage.

“They killed me. They killed me!” Kaski was hardly able to get out the whisper. His legs and chest still burned where the weapons had penetrated. The hatred inside him wasn’t his, but he couldn’t control it. “Get the f--- out of my head!”

He slipped off the bar stool he’d taken, causing a very few heads to turn. This was par for the bar. His head hit the ground while his body couldn’t react and again he went into the vision of Savage’s life. He saw the training, the concentration exercises that Savage had always failed. Kaski was smarter and he could use. He drew on his own energy and he drew on Savage’s soul. There on the floor a sword of energy grew for him, fed by his mind and his hatred.

Now he had a weapon, he’d use this to destroy his murderers. Larra and Fettrin's faces and auras were burned into his memory. He knew their strengths and their style. They were his first target, then he would find a way to destroy the creature.

TGF builds an acid pit and throws Jacey in.

"Ten creds says he comes back!"

The dark robed figure looks up from his pad and paper at the loud noises of the reanimated past.

"Hmm, would you, by any chance, have some tea? No? Ah well, back to work."

With that he returned to his notepad.

TGF pulls a large styrofoam letter "T" out of his back pocket and pegs Paranoid in the back of the head with it.

OOC: looks like I have some catching up to do.. hehe. well I hope to post soon. things seem interesting so far. :laugh:

Yume quirked a brow at Jacey question. Was she afraid of dieing? That was an odd question and one she thought Jacey would know the answer of. She sat back in her chair, glancing over to the boy who had entered earlier before looking away after she decided he wasn't worth her interest.

"No, I am not afraid of dieing. I am willing to be destroyed while trying to eliminate my creators than be destroyed without trying.." She shrugged lightly and had a serious expression. Afraid of dieing? why would something like herself be afraid of dieing?

She just let herself relax in the chair while she sighs lightly, lightly gripping the rock fettrin had given her as she lightly rubbed it with her fingers. Wait and watch, she thought lightly before letting her eyes close. Not like she had much to do at the moment..

(ooc) Hello, all.

He rode on the back of a dragon.

It was a fine creature, beautiful and terrible and deadly. Lightning shivered along its flanks, crackled over his shining armour. The storm wind threatened to rip him from his chosen position. It battered him from all sides, throwing splinters of ice to scrape across his pale face. But his grip was strong, and he did not fall.

The violence of the storm was great, yet not so much as what already marked them. There were long rents in his armour. Blood streaked across skin and metal like tendrils of shadow spreading to devour him. The stag's tines atop his head were darkened and broken. The dragon, brilliant with the allure of storm's fire, seeped smoke where his sword had found its target beneath hard scales.

They tumbled over and over in the centre of the storm, he and the serpent. He shouted with the lightning's voice, raised his sword. He called the lightning and it came, funnelling down into the shining blade. His grip loosened; he leapt from the creature's back and let the storm into his defenses. The wind and ice howled its triumph as his body was swept into the gale, over the canopy of the great wings and under the serpent. One blow, then. He poured his power into it, abandoning all but the most basic of defenses that he might deal this one blow.

Sword pierced dragon's heart. The storm howled in fury, wept icy shards of pain. The serpent writhed, fighting even in the throes of death to defeat its slayer. He had no reserves left to defend himself; with its last burst of strength the serpent sent him tumbling from the storm's centre and into a darkness that had no boundaries.

He struggled to stay his flight, feeling each universe as he ripped through them. Countless passed without slowing, taking him farther and farther from Annwn, until, at last, he found the strength to stop before he hit the next boundary.

The universe was utterly unknown to him. He drifted in a space so far between suns that only the faint shimmer of starlight provided illumination. He did not mind the dark.

There were no Sluagh here, no Cwn Annwn to answer his call. That, he did mind.

Arawn, Hunter and Lord in a universe far removed, turned towards the nearest nexus of life.

OOC: hi and welcome. =D

TGF poured himself a pint of bitter and kicked back in his chair. He always thought better with a good pint in hand. Leaning forward again, he pulled a tattered notebook from his back pocket, before leaning back again. Balanced pricariously on two legs of the stool, he procured a pen from some undisclosed location, and began to write.

Then he threw the Lord and Master of a far removed universe in the acid pit.

OOC: What she said.

EDIT: So it's Hunter and Lord. WTF ever.

This post has been edited by TheGreenFile : 01 September 2005 - 11:15 PM

OOC: Ahh! premonition! Hey! hugs Long time no see, eh? Really nice post!

“Hey, Ta-vora, where’s your matrix now?” Demon asked, flicking his tails in agitation. He had grown tired of the ‘bear hunt’ song a few minutes ago, to Ta-vora’s immense relief.

The Ka-nuth frowned, slowing his pace and finally stopping. “It’s been the same distance away, on my left, for the last few minutes...I don’t understand.”

“We have been turning left a lot,” Demon commented, apparently oblivious to how obvious the fact was. “Maybe we’re going in circles.”

Ta-vora put a hand to his forehead in frustration and made to lean against the wall. “There must be another door somewh-” he cut of with a cry of surprise as fell right through the white curtain and into the room beyond.

“Whoa!” the shapeshifter exclaimed, awed. He dove headfirst after his companion. The drapes rippled before him, and quite suddenly the strange creature’s head was somewhere in the proximity of his rear end as he smashed into a perfectly solid wall.

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

Catching his balance, Ta-vora turned just in time to see the doorway shaped hole vanish into white walls. White cloth promptly appeared to cover it. Shaking off his unease at being separated, he surveyed his surroundings, unable to keep his jaw from dropping open in amazement.

To his left a curtain waved in no wind, showing another small room behind, but it nearly went unnoticed. Piles and piles of treasure surrounded him, stacked on numerous shelves, tables, and some simply piled on the floor. Possibly everything of great worth Ta-vora had ever seen existed in the room, as well as an uncountable number of objects he hadn’t. There was plenty of gold and rare gems, yes, but many items did not look special at all. Those, Ta-vora was sure, held more meaning than the obvious treasures.

To his right and a little ways into the room, resting between an ornate sword with a silver hilt and a giant emerald and covered with a silk cloth, was Ta-vora’s matrix.

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

“Owwww!” Demon whined, covering his nose with his paws as he lay on his stomach before the now-closed passage. Cursing the use of tricks on himself rather than other people, the shapeshifter finally got up and looked around. “Maybe there’s a back door?”

He trotted round and round what he soon learned was a large, probably hollow block with passages running around it, but not through it. White curtains blew aside revealing once hidden corridors as he wandered by them; Larra’s dominion over the station’s barriers was evident. But they were all to his right.

The shapeshifter had lost count of the number of times he circled the closed in area before sharp eyes finally picked out a flutter of curtain to his left, not nearly as plain as the others. Demon frowned; Ta-vora had disappeared through another door. Yet a door was a door, and he would take whatever he could get.

Nudging the curtain aside with his nose, Demon shuddered as it came into contact with one of Gaile’s only fully intact barriers. Larra undoubtedly would have noticed the signs, but Demon did not. Instead, he attempted to walk right though. Suddenly he stopped, paws glued to the floor, and everything went black.

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

Violet eyes steadily on Fettrin’s, Larra waiting impatiently for whatever answer the arch-demon would give her: violent, threatening, or anything else. Still, a slight shudder among the least perceptible of dimensional currents did not go unnoticed by the highly-trained barrier-master. While her facial expression did not change, inwardly the Acaran scowled. Some idiot had just ripped through at least two hundred dimensional barriers and landed himself in this world. She would deal with him later. Chances are, he would not enjoy it.

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

”Deeemonnnn!” an annoyingly cheerful voice jerked the shapeshifter out of his sleep. Moaning in irritation, he rolled over, scowling up at a slightly younger Larra from his perch on his ‘co-pilot’s chair’. For a moment he was surprised to find himself safe in the Kamikaze _, but the feeling quickly passed. It was replaced by the unnerving sensation that something horrible was about to happen.

For one thing, Larra was wearing a raincoat, rubber boots, and bathing suit. Behind her, the cramped back rooms of the small ship were covered in heavy plastic. “Guess what time it is!” she sang, smiling evilly. Demonically. Oh lord, not demons too.

With a shriek, Demon bolted for his haven under the ship, only to realize that it hadn’t yet been built. That annoying, useless laser gun still lived in the _Kamikaze’s _bowels. Larra chose that moment to dive on him, screaming, “Bath Time!” Horns sprouted out of her dark hair, and her eyes had taken on a fearsome red glare.

Howling like a banshee, the shapeshifter struggled maniacally as she dragged him towards her bathroom, claws digging into his skin, and shoved him unceremoniously into a tub full of water. Desperately, he tried to transform into a bird and take to the air before the offending liquid touched his fur. To his horror nothing happened, and the shapeshifter hit the water with a gigantic splash.

“Demon!” someone unfamiliar yelled. “DEMON!” A dark shape roughly elbowed the demonic Larra aside, and strong hands pulled the still screaming shapeshifter out of the bathtub._

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

“SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAA!! - huh?” Demon blinked, staring at Ta-vora’s confused face. Slowly he realized he was in the form of a bird, perfectly dry, and completely trapped in the Ka-nuth’s hands. “Ta-vora! Hide me! Larras-a-demon-and-she’s-after-me-and-she’s-gonna-givemeaBATH!” he yowled, suddenly stopping to draw a deep breath.

“Easy Demon,” Ta-vora said comfortingly. “You were trapped in that barrier over there. It must have given you delusions about your fears.”

Demon whimpered as he was set on the ground, unable to recall a moment when he had been more terrified. But he was quite a resilient creature, after all. As the feeling slowly ebbed away, he glanced briefly at the undulating barrier behind him, before shuddering again and turning away. He was in a small room with an assortment of useless looking stuff piled on shelves to his right and left. Beyond the door in front of him, in a vast chamber, many things glittered brightly.

And suddenly, he had an idea. I wonder if we can kill of these freaks, yet leave the station intact... He could remodel it with Gaile’s riches, and make a hideout out of it! Fear nearly forgotten, the shapeshifter giggled suddenly, ecstatic with his own brilliance, and grinned up at the Ka-nuth. “Thanks for saving me,” he said childishly.

“No problem. I found my matrix, and these.” Smirking, Ta-vora held up his Crescent Sword, Larra’s Blazor, and Page’s Blaster. Now he had his matrix, and weapons. “Our other stuff, of less value, will probably be in this room.” Demon nodded cheerfully, and the two quickly began searching the shelves.

Ta-vora quickly found his and Larra’s clothing. “Find anything?” he asked, turning around. His palm found his forehead almost immediately. Demon was wearing Page’s pants on his head, and had a cigar sticking out of his jaws. “Where did you get that thing?”

The shapeshifter grinned. “In the pants.” Ta-vora frowned, unwillingly considering the implications of that sentence. Demon scowled. “In the pocket, you sicko!”

The Ka-nuth only shook his head. “And I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“I don’t. I just like eating them.”

This time, Ta-vora caught his left hand with his right before he could hit himself. “I’m not going to ask. We’ve got our stuff, so let’s go. The door I came through opened back up about ten minutes after I went through.” This time, Demon banged himself on the head.

OOC: Dang, two long posts in four days...the bar is picking up! Keep it up, guys! Ha, that was lots of fun to write....

Edit: dazzling smile I just love font tags....

This post has been edited by Synesthesia : 01 September 2005 - 11:26 PM

(ooc) Thanks, guys! group hug

The bubbling, viscous fluid washed over him without leaving a mark. Arawn regarded it curiously for a moment, then stepped out of the pit. The gaze that fell upon TGF was dark and searching. He did not know what had happened, for he had only just neared the nexus when . . . something . . . turned his course. It was unexpected, and gave Arawn hope that this new universe might hold something worthy of him.

He sensed power nearby. Much power, spread into a few brilliant souls. The taste of it danced across his tongue and lit pale fires in his mirrored eyes. This universe was strange to him, a place of metal and dust and empty space, utterly unlike the land he was accustomed to. But some things remained the same, and power was one.

There was much to do before he would allow himself to hunt. He felt . . . bereft . . . without the Cwn Annwn at his side. Arawn stepped past TGF without taking further notice of him, heedless of the acid that sloughed off his unmarked skin to pockmark the hard flat ground. Without seeming to search for direction, Arawn approached one of the souls he could taste. It was not the most powerful, nor even the oldest. It was young, almost gentle in the power that it shed. Until he healed from the damage the serpent had dealt him, it would do.

--------------------

The rough-shaven, dirty man dressed in the uniform of a well known courier firm looked up as his companion gasped. His brow furrowed. "Marie?"

His daughter looked up at him. Her eyes, normally graver than any sixteen year old's eyes had a right to be, were wide. There was an expression of confusion mixed with fear on her face.

"Marie? Hon? What is it?" His brow furrowed further as she launched herself into his arms. His daughter, his beautiful, special daughter who had spent the last two years trying to show her independence, trembled in the safety of his embrace. He held her, murmuring soothingly before asking, "It's the others on this station, isn't it? The other telepaths? Honey, you know I want you to block them out. You're not ready for them."

The girl, born with the ability to sense the thoughts and emotions of others, looked around their temporary quarters blindly, as if she could see beyond the metal walls. "No, Dad, it's not them." Her voice trembled, though she fought to steady it. "There's something else. It's . . . it's looking for me!" Her face was pale, her lips bloodless. "It's . . . god, Dad. It's old. Not human. I've never -"

All at once, Marie thrust herself away from her father. She stared at the door, and her father followed her gaze. His hand found and picked up his personal, illegal blaster, and he aimed it at the entrance with a steadiness that belied his nerves. What came through the door, however, was enough to make him forget the weapon. Mouth open, he stared at something that came straight out of ancient myth.

Broken antlers rose above a face placed into shadow by an ornate helmet. Armour encased every part of the body, shining silver, engraved with scenes of forest and hunt, traced with unrecognisable runes. A sword hung at one hip, a dagger at the other. After the shock had faded, he noted that the armour was rent in places, and the antlers were stained dark with old blood. Even that fled his mind when the creature started towards Marie. With a shout of alarm and defiance, he lifted his blaster and pulled the trigger. The creature was unfazed. He stepped between them, sheltering his cowering daughter as well as he was able. The creature did not even spare him a glance. In desperation, he tackled the creature. It did not move a hairsbreadth under his weight, but threw him off as if he were nothing. He hit the wall with a sharp crack of breaking bones. His vision whirled and dimmed alarmingly, but he would not take his eyes off his daughter.

The tall, imposing figure incased in armour stopped in front of Marie. She stood stock still, too frightened to move. He reached out and grasped her hand in his, somehow gentle and unyielding. Her face was upturned, her wide-eyed gaze on his face.

"Child." His voice was lightning and shadow, the whispers of the spirits of the dead and the growls of the forest predator all at once. "You are honoured. You shall be the first of my Hounds." The blinding flash of lightning was in his eyes. He raised the dagger that neither Marie nor her father had seen him unsheath and drew its edge across her palm.

She gasped, but her astonishment at the quick bite of pain was nothing compared to her father's as she began to change. She shrank, and her skin became short white fur. Her hands and feet became paws; her face elongated, her teeth sharpened. Shadow wrapped around her in a dark haze, obscuring her form from her disbelieving father's eyes. When at last he could see her again, nothing of Marie remained in the large beast with white fur and blood-red ears. The glassy eyes that turned momentarily in his direction were like silver mirrors, reflecting everything and revealing nothing of the soul that had been taken.

Arawn turned, ignoring the mortal left lying shocked and broken against the wall, and left with the first of his Cwn Annwn at his heels.

(edit) There's always one square bracket...

This post has been edited by premonition : 04 September 2005 - 09:05 AM