“The problem is that they took my matrix.” Ta-vora said after a brief pause.
“Why is that a problem?” Larra asked.
“Well, I don't know if I told you before, but without my matrix, I only have very rudimentary psionic abilities. Plus, if they touch it, they'll cause me great pain. That's why it is a problem. You can imagine that Gaile considered this a very useful way of keeping me under control. She even said she'd wear it, just in case. Of course she couldn't, it caused her discomfort. But I'd rather jump into Kano's lake before I tell her how to isolate it.”
“Isolate it?”
“Page, do you remember the first time you saw my matrix? Back aboard the Azula?”
Page nodded.
“It hurt your eyes, didn't it? As if you looked directly into the sun. That's because it isn't aligned to your mind. Being near it would have caused you discomfort as well. That's why a matrix has to be isolated. That's why I wore it under my shirt, it's made out of the only material that can isolate a matrix.”
“Which is?”
“Silk.”
“Silk?”
“Yes, simple silk. There's a special pattern in the fabric. Anyway, if we manage to escape, we need to get my matrix back. Even if we're lightyears away, they can still harm me with it. Distance means nothing. However, in case they use it before we get it, don't care for me. Just continue on.”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Meanwhile
A sphere of blue energy appeared near the station in orbit about the ringed world of Shurass. The sphere grew rapidly and eventually revealed a large starship. Leaving the shrinking portal behind, the ship approached the station, the lazily swirling blue and red color patterns typical for the Surreal Web reflecting off the hull.
A short data exchange told the crew where to dock. Identification wasn't necessary – no outsider was able to find this station, let alone approach it.
Once the ship was savely docked within the station, a single young man debarked. He was clad in a white cloak with a strange emblem on his back. An elderly man, clad in a similar rope but with the signs of a master, approached him.
The young man folded back his hood and revealed short, black hair, light brown skin and red eyes, which seemed to glow from within, marking him as Karee of the Explorer Gens.
He bowed his head in greeting as the elderly man, who was Phanteon in origin, stood before him.
“En-taro.” the elderly man had to look up to him, as he himself was only 150 cm tall but also about as wide. “I'm very pleased to see you again.”
“So am I, Master Ja-nanin. I heard they solved the equation.”
“They did. In fact they're all waiting for the data you collected. You have it, I trust?”
“Yes, but it was not easy. The Karee are very curious about the phenomenon. It was, in fact, not easy to get close enough to collect all the data we need. And it seems that the Phanteon are showing interest as well.”
“The Phanteon? What interest could my people probably have in the phenomenon?”
“Well, as you know, the shockwaves emitted by its creation could be measured all over the sector. Apparently, a Phanteon patrol picked it up.” He paused when they entered an elevator. “My sources told me that some of them believe it might be a Karee weapon of some sort. Thus they concentrated their attacks on the systems around the phenomenon.”
“Hm I see. This is a very problematic situation.”
“Not for much longer, I trust. As soon as the scientists analyzed this data, they be able to determine the exact settings of the pulse necessary to close the phenomenon. Once it is gone, the Phanteon will lose interest and the matter is solved.”
The elderly man remained silent. En-taro pushed a button, causing the elevator to stop.
“What is it, Master Ja-nanin?”
“Alright, I guess I can trust you. You know how the phenomenon formed, of course. But what you don't know is that shortly after the first one, a second ship entered it.”
“What? Who was aboard that ship?”
“You know who it was.”
“ Him?!? ”
“Yes, him.”
“But the Crown themselves told him that he was not allowed to go!”
“I tried to stop him. But he was determined to follow her, whatever it may mean for him. It was typical for him, he always tended to be impulsive. Even more so after his change.”
“And you didn't tell them?”
“He asked me to not do it. What can I say, I was no longer his master. Not after what happened to him. I considered telling them, but that wouldn't change anything. They would continue with the plan and close the phenomenon.”
“Hm he helped me more than often during my time of apprenticeship. I guess it's only fair if I help him this time.”
He pulled out a small computer and put a chrystal chip into it.
“What are you doing?” the Phanteon asked.
“When I give this data to the scientists, they'll analyze it. In a few weeks, they'll know that it is too vague and perhaps even inconsistent in some parts. Then someone has to go back and take new readings from the phenomenon. You ask me what I'm doing? I give him three, perhaps four more weeks to finish his search.”
“It is more than I could ask you for it. But you're risking a lot.”
“Not as much as Ta-vora risked for me, back when never mind.”
“We better hurry now, people may wondering about the elevator by now.”
“You're right.”
The Karee pushed a button at the elevator control panel and it continued moving.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

OOC: FYI, the “Crown” are the leaders of the Ka-nuth. Basically a senate and base of operations coordination. They have no political duties, however, which is why they're not referred to as senate.

Demon rested his head on his forepaws and stared at the wall in silence. To the shapeshifter resting on top of the Kamikaze , the docking bay seemed silent and forlorn, despite the drunken yells of some nearby pirates. He whined and closed his eyes. It just seemed impossible that his friends had been captured, at least like this. He was used to Larra getting caught for sport, but she would never have left him in the dark for this long if she had the ability to reach him.

But it was like there was nothing he could do. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to find the place where they had been taken, what could he do? Light everything on fire and run away? As if. He had no chance against the freaks who had invaded the bar. And not like they could get away anyway, he couldn’t even fly the Kamikaze out of the docking bay so it would be no help, and if Larra hadn't skipped dimensions yet it meant she couldn’t.

Whining helplessly, Demon opened his eyes again to stare dully at the wall. There had to be something he could do, but it was impossible for him to make a difference. The dog raised his head suddenly, remembering what Larra always used to tell him when he started getting all wound up in his problems. It didn’t usually make sense to him but it did now. “Think of the solution, not the problem.” What Demon didn’t know, was that all the way across the galaxy, Larra was telling Ta-vora the exact same thing.

The solution... the dog banged his tail on the hull of the little black ship as he thought. It was time to play this by his rules, not theirs. He had to get Page and Larra and Ta-vora out, but he didn’t have to do it by force. Demon grinned wickedly. Game on, Gaile. You don’t know what you’re up against.

The shapeshifter bounced to his feet. “Pom-pom! Where are you?” The creature built from rays of orange light popped up beside him, rotating slowly. “Listen! Listen! Listen! I’ve got a plan!” Demon accented each ‘listen’ by bouncing every time he said the word. Pom-pom made a squeaky noise and waited patiently. “Okay, okay, you didn’t happen to be around when those skinny weirdos attacked us, did you?”

The wormhole reversed the directions of its light rays. A definite no. Demon, undeterred, launched into a detailed description of Myre. He had stared at him for quite awhile in order to light his clothes on fire, after all. Pom-pom spun slower while he digested the information. “Do you know which dimension they come from?” The shapeshifter pressed. “Can you take me there?”

Orange light flashed, and the creature whirled in circles around the black dog. Then one light ray brushed his fur, and the docking bay was empty of life.

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

“Son of a -” Pom-pom squealed loudly, blocking out the last word. “Sorry,” Demon muttered. “Just be quiet, all right?” The wormhole vanished. “No, I didn’t mean leave...come back!” the shapeshifter hissed, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Pom-pom did not return. “Aww crap...”

Cautiously, Demon crouched lower against a nearby wall and stared in shock. Hundreds of tall, spindly humanoids strolled through a large, ornately decorated square of a busy city. The shapeshifter could have sworn he saw their three attackers many times over. He was relieved he had been transported in the nearby alley instead of the middle of the square, but against the light colors, his black fur stood out far too much. Demon became a tiny little lizard, crawling up on the walls to assess his situation. So Pom-pom really did know where he was going. But...now what?

OOC: What is Demon planning? Will it even make a difference? Or will his antics only get him into trouble? Will our characters escape on their own? Will Shade ever post? Will - okay, that’s enough, Syn. Shut up.

Edited for typo.

This post has been edited by Synesthesia : 15 February 2005 - 03:07 PM

Kenady woke up. Something had caught her in the back of the head, and she'd been knocked out. How long was I out?

Quickly scanning the bar, she realized her targets were gone. Along with most everyone else. "Damn," she muttered. Time to head back to the ship and regroup.

OOC: Now look what somebody posted in the Gallery.
LINK
Page, wouldn't that be something for you?

Arion, on Feb 5 2005, 03:38 PM, said:

OOC: Now look what somebody posted in the Gallery.
LINK
Page, wouldn't that be something for you?
View Post

OOC: Nice! Page should get himself one of those! Still planning on posting dinner, Valence? <_<

Though he had only spent a few hours people-watching, Demon had already come to a conclusion. He hated them, he hated white, he hated the planet and he hated the sound of the language, which he had no hope of ever understanding.

But there was one other thing, something that the shapeshifter did not hate. Part of the behavior of these creatures, it reminded him so much of another culture he and Larra had once visited. It was one single idea, embedded deep in their beliefs that would bring Gaile, Savage, and Myre down. Not force.

Demon couldn’t even dare hope that something like this would be handed to him, but it had been. No one else would have seen it in the same light as the shapeshifter, no one else would be able to use it the way he could.

Superstition. Demon loved the sound of that word. Superstition. Good luck and bad luck. As of now he decided, I AM the bad luck. Whether it existed or not, he would make it happen. But he wasn’t ready yet. First, the shapeshifter had to find out what Gaile’s culture knew to cause extremely bad luck, and that would be harder than it sounded. Especially since he didn’t know the language. Demon grinned. He would find a way soon enough. The shapeshifter felt as though he was on the verge of a breakthrough. It won’t be long now, Gaile he promised.

OOC: Sorry guys... This post has been many hours in the making, its not exactly good or bad, it just is, as I began writing it, it slowly became harder and harder to end so I just forced an ending, any questions for the Maestro or about where they are can be answered by savage, feel free to add your own stuff into the mix.

Page was swimming in a lukewarm sea, not a very comfortable feeling. Everything was slightly blurry and he felt disconnected to everything around him. He heard Larra and Ta-vora speak, and he knew what they said, and could even comprehend it, but something was definitely wrong.
Larra stared long and hard at one of the massive white curtains. With a smooth motion she ripped it down, exposing another curtain, exactly the same behind it.
"This is ridiculous," she muttered, ripping down another curtain to the same effect.
"Ridiculous," Page repeated, his head swayed a bit and his face was much paler than usual.
"Oh well, what's wrong with a bit of a challenge," She said after a moment’s silence.
Page's mind seemed to have separated with his body, he sounded and acted nothing like he usually did. He punched the floor once.
Ta-vora sat before him staring on in confusion.
"Ow," Page muttered in his strangely softer voice. He punched the floor again, this time harder.
"Ow."
Larra turned her head in an exorcist like fashion, eyebrows wound up high, confusion evident in her eyes.
Page punched the ground again this time harder. A small crack appeared in the Alabaster stone floor. The tile rippled and the crack repaired itself.
"Ow," Page said again, paying no attention to the tile's crack, or lack thereof.
"Page?" Larra said, waving a hand over Page's face. "Are you doing okay?”
He didn’t reply, just punched the ground again, this time even harder.
"Ow."
The floor was stained with blood, and the cracks he left were much bigger. The tile repaired itself again.
"Ta-vora?" Larra asked, eyebrows still arisen.
"I don’t know, but something's definitely wrong with him," he replied standing up of the stone floor.
"This place is getting creepier and creepier by the second."
"Ow," Page said again, his face lit up as he watched the blood drip from his knuckles, his once amber eyes, now grey, followed the drops to the floor. Page then sent his fist down, and the tile, along with the other touching it shattered. There was a dent in the steel panel below the stone floor. This time the tiles didn’t repair themselves.
"Ow," Ta-vora said, looking at the blood stained metal. Page began chuckling, breaking his chain of ow's.
Larra opened her mouth but another voice spoke before she could.
"The Maestro requests your audience now."
It was Savage; he was standing in a part of the curtains directly behind Larra's chair. The same curtains she had pulled down at his feet.
Ta-vora and Larra lifted the still chuckling Page and walked through the doorway.
"Are we having dinner?" Larra asked tapping Page on the back of the head, as if to say "shut up."
"Yes," Savage replied, his voice was uncharacteristically deep.
They soon came to the end of the hallway and walked through another white curtain.
They entered the large chamber. The Maestro sat at the end of a very long table, Myre stood behind her, leaning on her tall black wooden chair.
The chamber was the same white but there were several long strips where the black of space could be seen.
Savage pulled out the 3 chairs at the other end of the table, and crossed his arms behind his back.
Larra and Ta-vora set Page down first and then took their seats. Page began stroking the smooth black wood of the table, this calmed his chuckling.
"I'm pleased you could make it," the Maestro said bowing her head slightly.
Larra's lips were firmly pursed, and her eyes bored a hole in the Maestro’s head. Ta-vora sat back calm, he still didn’t know what to think of these enemies.
"Where are we?" Larra asked bluntly.
The Maestro smiled, "My, you get right to the point."
Larra stared back not moving or showing any expression.
"We are still in the same Universe, if that’s what you want to know."
"Where?" Ta-vora asked calmly.
Page had stopped stroking the table and was now leaning back in his seat mimicking Ta-vora.
The Maestro’s red lips stretched into a smile. She folded her fingers over the edge of the table and began unconsciously drawing a spiral with her other index finger on the black wood.
“Have you ever heard of the council?” She said testily, here eerie voice still ringing in the large room seconds after she finished.
Larra nodded.
“Do you know anything about them?” The Maestro said again, cocking her head slightly.
“All I know is that hey inhabit Council station,” Larra replied, she was playing along.
The Maestro let out a shrill laughter and leaned back in her chair, putting her shoes onto the table.
“That means I have done a good job then. In case you couldn’t tell by the stars we are on council station. The constellation’s scream it, but then again you don’t strike me as much of a stargazer anyways.”
“You’re a member of the council?”
“Right and wrong,” the Maestro snapped, throwing her legs down and sitting upright once again, “I am the council dear.”
Ta-vora’s ears twitched. Larra raised an eyebrow. Page slouched into his chair muttering to himself quietly.
“Meaning?”
“I know you’re not from this universe, I know that you know about the Keyline, and I know that you’ve even met the Skysayer. What you don’t know is that I own this dimension. I’m from a Keyline dimension called Y’ttagach. Since you probably wont be able to pronounce that I’ll refer to us as stargazers.”
“Known for your astrology?” Ta-vora asked.
‘No, its just a wonderful name,” the Maestro chuckled. “Anyway, I purchased this land from the Keyline council, it was once a barren dimension, but we taught the inhabitants how to fly. We gave them technology, under the guise of their own invention, and we taught them how to live. What people do remember us is unimportant, but our fingers are deeply woven into the societies, conflicts, and lives of every government and living being in this universe. The council is merely our shortcomings and slip ups. It is through them that we control the universe and go undetected.”
“And wont you telling us this give us all the proof we need to expose you to the people, and have them overthrow you,” Larra replied.
The Maestro burst into her girlish laughter. Her shrill cries echoed through the hall and the jumble of laughter slowly disappeared.
“I would have to let you go to do that, besides why would you try to escape, when he’s already being turned.”
Larra and Ta-vora looked at Page, he still leaned back in his chair breathing calmly. A wry grin plastered onto his face.
“Turned?”
“He’s been pumped with the same serum my dear Savage is, the same serum all my pets have in them. Soon he won’t want to leave, and from the looks of it you two are in no position to tell him what to do.”
“Wha-“
“We’ve talked long enough,” The Maestro interrupted, “I believe its time for dinner.”
Several servants appeared from behind the long flowing curtains behind the Maestro carrying large silver platters covered with food.
They all wore the same black clothes Page and Savage wore, and had the same make up as Savage.
They laid the largest most elegant looking feast before them, and food stretched over every inch of the huge table.
Larra sat glaring at the Maestro across the table, ignoring the food. Ta-vora sighed, he was hungry, but it wouldn’t be right to eat this food, Larra was right.
Page began helping himself to whatever was closest.
“Myre dear, can you bring us some entertainment.”
Myre clapped his hands and two figures dressed like Page stepped out from behind a curtain. They both stood next to the table, and bowed to Page, Larra and Ta-vora, and then to Myre and Gaile. Then they bowed to each other.
Page craned his neck around the back of his chair to watch the two. Suddenly a boom of drums echoed through the room. Boom.
A line of drummers marched in from all sides and began executing a seamless rhythm. The two in black began sparring, but Larra soon noticed they weren’t holding back. Scrawny grabbed a handful of Indistinct’s hair and began pounding his face with his other hand, meanwhile Indistinct was repeatedly striking scrawny in the gut. The two broke their holds and began going all out.
Page’s head began bobbing to the rhythm, and a smile crept across his face. The two servants were beginning to lose steam, but they fought on. Blood began to drip from their faces and fists, and still they fought on.
The Maestro laughed gleefully and let out a shrill shriek of delight. Finally the fight had ended. Indistinct landed a brutal uppercut on scrawny and after hearing several definitive cracks, they saw him fall to the ground.
The Maestro clapped.
“That was wonderful, for your fair performance you are to be rewarded.” Her servant stared back at her. He was beaten boody and had to struggle to stay standing. Worst of all he didn’t even seem to have the ability to speak.
Page stood, much to the surprise of everyone there.
“I want to fight!” he shouted like a child.
The Maestro laughed.
“No son you are not ready yet.” Page frowned and plopped back into his seat.
Larra was shocked. Page took orders from someone?
“I see that you are all done with your dinner, I will have Savage take you back to your room then. If you don’t want to be fed like royalty you can be fed like slaves.”
Savage walked towards the door and gestured

OOC: I assume I should be apologizing for needling Valence about posting?

Trying to work in mind games here, so what Larra’s actions won’t tell a thing about what’s she’s truly thinking...let’s just say I’m going to be writing a lot more thoughts than usual, seeing as expressing them in dialect and actions won’t happen in this situation. :rolleyes:

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

A black wraith against the abhorred white curtains, Savage reached out an arm and drew them back, revealing the passageway back to their ‘room’. Page’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood, obediently following Gaile’s orders, though he did cast a longing glance over his shoulder at the survivor of the ‘entertainment’ on his way to the exit. Larra and Ta-vora exchanged glances, then got up as well. This did not seem like a command to waste energy protesting.

Dark thoughts flowing freely through her mind, Larra paused at the curtains and glanced back at the Maestro. “Seems a little pathetic to me,” she said softly, just loud enough for the other to hear, “buying and creating your own world, just so you can play God.” Smirking, she fell into step behind Ta-vora, but Gaile’s high-pitched laughter seemed to follow her anyway, slightly muffled and distorted by the white cloth draped around them.

The four walked back in single file, Savage leading the way, then Page and Ta-vora. Larra took up the rear, once again lost in thought. She was in a real predicament now, and a real challenge. Ta-vora needed his matrix, Page needed his self control, and she needed to get the three of them out of here. It was the second one that worried her the most. After the mishap with Nevell (still something she didn’t like to think about), Larra felt that she owed the Vellosian and that debt had come due. And now that Page had somehow gained quite a bit of her trust, it was not a matter that she could ignore. People Larra felt she could trust, even to some degree, were rare.

Head down just enough to let a few strands of straight black hair fall into her face, the Acaran chewed on her lower lip as she walking, suddenly feeling the enormous pressure placed on her by the situation. It would be easy to crack under the strain. That thought became a plan. Slowly, Larra slid her own thoughts and experiences deep into the depths of her mind and invented new ones, ideas and personality that she would assume as her own, faking and hiding what she was truly capable of until the right point in the game. To her, that’s what the game was all about.

Larra smiled as she created the new character within herself. She had begun the moment she had arrived, but now those ideas solidified. Nervous and terrified, struggling to hide it yet succeeding only most of the time. Feeling the weight of the incredible stress of the situation, and a little too determined to fix it, but without the experience to know what worked and what didn’t. She would make amateurish mistakes in the game and occasionally fail to hide her ‘thoughts’, shortly breaking under the pressure. All the while, her true self would remain calm and clear-headed but hidden, venting negative emotions like frustration and depression through the counterfeit.

Fully immersed in her deceptive game, Larra finally looked up as they reached the disgustingly white room where the three were trapped. It had not been a long walk by any means, but she hadn’t even noticed the little time that did pass. Page immediately crossed the room and bent over the pond, snickering to himself as he watched the brightly colored fish flit around. Ta-vora shook his head slightly and wandered away, wanting to put some distance between himself and Savage.

Larra placed a look of terror on her face, then partially covered it with one of determination and feigned calm. “Savage,” she demanded coldly, halting near him and crossing her arms in a no-nonsense stance. “I have a few questions I want answered.” She was well aware that asking straight out wouldn’t get any answers they weren’t willing to give out, but that was the plan.

The ‘stargazer’ had been about to take his leave, but he turned back and glared menacingly. Larra smiled at the authority her alter-ego thought she had over him, and asked a question she had already guessed the answer to. “Why are Ta-vora, myself, Myre and the Maestro stuck wearing white, while everyone else wears black?”

Savage’s expression did not change. “Because you,” he said darkly, “still have free will. In your case, however, you might not have it for much longer.”

Comprehension dawned on Larra’s face, but at the same time she looked unnerved by the threat. “Oh...” So her guess had been right.

“Any more questions?” Savage’s tone was not polite.

Larra seemed to shrink under his harsh gaze, “How can we escape?” It was more of a plea than a question.

Savage only left with only the words, “You can’t”, throwing aside the hangings and leaving the three alone again. Larra slumped into the only place she liked in the room, her sideways “S” chair and closed her eyes in frustration.

“Ta-vora, how the hell are we supposed to get out of here?” she asked miserably. Guilt stung Larra the moment she had said it. She knew she was supposed to be strong, to lend support to him, especially because he was probably more aware than her of the trouble they were in, but her alias was already starting to fall apart and simply couldn’t. Even worse, Larra couldn’t even explain to him her plan, because she there was no way to ensure Gaile wasn’t monitoring them. If she overheard, it would blow the whole charade. Nothing is ever easy.

The Ka-nuth was busy studying the broken floor tiles Page had left earlier. “Maybe something with this?” Larra didn’t comment that even if they could break through the floor, they would be far from safety or escape. Instead, she threw foolish hope into the idea and dove on the floor to inspect the empty tile spots closer.

“Looks like we have to completely destroy them in order to break through. When Page left only a crack, it regenerated.” Ta-vora continued, frowning.

“Yeah,” Larra agreed, propping her head up with one arm. “But I don’t think getting Page to punch through any more is that great of an idea.” It was meant as a joke, but the spattering of dried blood on the intact tiles wasn’t all that funny.

Droplets of lukewarm water splattered on the two, accompanied by a loud splash from the direction of the pond. Page, water dripping from his right arm and some of the hair near his face, was holding one of the fish tightly in between two fingers. The scaly body struggled wildly for release as the Vellosian...talked to it?

Larra and Ta-vora exchanged troubled glances. “We have to get out of her while he’s still like this,” the Ka-nuth said softly. “Before he becomes logical and devoted to Gaile like Savage is. He could block our escape.”

She nodded. He was right, there wasn’t as much time for the game as she would have liked. They had to get out as soon as possible. But if she stopped playing, they might not escape at all.

Larra sighed and leaned back against a chair, sending her mind out to study the dimensional barriers around their prison, working steadily to find a way to break through. An escape through the dimensions, she reasoned, would be best. The stargazers would not be able to catch them.

Sifting through the fabric of the universe, she tried to find pattern in the ways they had been twisted and the barriers weaved. Soon, Larra would be able to unravel the whole tangle. It’s creator was talented, but still no match for her Codebreaker training under Darbain.

One thing stayed right in the perceptions of her mind, though, affecting her concentration. It was the mess with Page again. She had several options, but few that she was willing to undertake, even in these situations. The method best for both of them, however, would break the only set of rules Larra had ever promised to keep. It was a pact she couldn’t ignore. The next best would probably be to enter Page’s mind and help him to combat the outside control, like he had done against Nevell.

Decided for the moment, Larra drew her knees up to her chest and once again focused on bringing down the only thing that truly restrained her ability to escape.

OOC: Didn’t get much accomplished here, but it’s getting to be too long... Ah well, pokes Arion

Page stroked the fish's head along its scales. He mimicked its writhing by shaking his head, and then he let the fish go. He felt a warmth in his forehead. Feelng the ccol water with his hand, he dunked his head into the pool. It took a few moments for him to realize that he couldnt breathe under water and he gasped for air coughing up water as he came up.
The warmth had turned into a hot burn, and the struggled to lean back on the floor. Jolts of green energy began to shoot down his left arm. Blue energy down his right. The electric bolts of weave expanded and formed swords.
Like a hot knife through butter Page's clouded mind came to life. Larra and Ta-vora turned their heads to find Page floating about 5 feet above the pond, surging with blue and green electricity.
"Page!" Larra gasped falling off her chair.
"He will be fine," two voices boomed through Pages mouth. His amber eyes were replaced with pure white.
"Antaries?" Larra asked cocking her head to the side.
"And Ungar, we have purged his mind of the drugs. This technique is weak and ineffective."
With that the energy faded from Page's body, his eyes turned their normal color, and Page fell from the 5 feet he was hovering into the pool.
The Vellosian thrashed about in the water for a few moments untill he realized it was only 3 feet deep and he could stand.
"WHAT THE ###### AM I WEARING?!" he shrieked. pulling a fish out of his sleeve and dropping it into the pool.

OOC: I'd been waiting to do this for a while, sop i'll spring it earlier than expected. Ideas for escape anyone?

“Page!” Larra squealed with excitement, mentally revising her plans. This might just be easier than she had originally thought. Page’s confusion was amplified even more when the Acaran gave him a quick hug, laughing.

“Larra?! Wha-?!” he yelped, looking shocked. She only laughed a little harder as she sunk back down into her chair, reflecting the amusement of acting slightly unstable. Ta-vora, sensible as always, began to explain their situation to the Vellosian; Larra calming down in time to pitch in with a few details.

“So what are we waiting for?” Page questioned impatiently, after being filled in. He received two blank looks in return. “To escape?”

Larra shrugged and smiled slightly. “Waiting?” The Vellosian was quickly beginning to realize what Ta-vora already knew... Larra was not herself at all.

“Any ideas on how to get out of here?”

Her smile widened a little. “Nope.”

Page didn’t believe that for a second. She lied perfectly, but it was far to out of character for her not to have some kind of escape method. But why would she lie about it?

“Now, if you don’t mind, I have some concentrating to do.” Larra pulled her knees up, staring off into space with an unfocused look in her eyes.

“That was weird,” Ta-vora said quietly. They had just gotten the Page back to normal, and now Larra was taking a turn for the worst.

The Vellosian frowned. “Yeah...”

OOC: Was going to give Arion a chance to post but...nah. And plans? For leaving, yes, for getting Ta-vora’s matrix back, not really. It won’t be long before Larra decodes the barrier and regains her ability to leave the dimension. (That’s what the ‘concentrating’ is for...she’s trying to clue them in without saying it directly)

I haven’t decided what I want to do with Demon yet...he could be caught in the Y’ttagach dimension or by Gaile, cause some minor chaos and unknowingly create the diversion the others need to get the matrix back, or possibly hurl the entire station into a state of anarchy. Ah, the possibilities.

As a warning, my weekday posting time is slowly dying... on second thought, it’s pretty much dead.

A drop of water landed in the pool with a 'ploop.'

A drop of yellow water.

The pool began to steam, ever so slightly. Soon, the fish could be seen, floating belly up. The pool had taken on a yellow hue, and was now definately bubbling. The mist flowed over the rim of the pool, as Larra, Page, and Ta-vora stared at it.

Page's eyes widened imperceptibly. This was uncannily familiar, somehow.

The bubbling stopped abruptly, and the pool regained its normal clarity. The fish wiggled, flipped over, and began swimming again, thouroughly confused as to what had just happened. A figure stepped out of the pool and the clearing mist.

It looked like a preacher, but something was not right. Perhaps the dull yellow eyes. Perhaps the bemused and evil smile. Perhaps the insidious chuckle.

"Well! If it isn't Page, lead singer of the Bad Catholics?"

Page looked at the figure, and knew who it was.

"Fettrin?"

"Ah, so you remember me? How sweet. Ha ha ha ha!"

Page dashed forward, in a strike aimed at Fettrin's gut. Page's fist hit Fettrin, and Fettrin's shoes made little cracks in the floor, which sealed up. Otherwise, Fettrin remained unchanged. The demon gently removed Page's fist, cocking his head.

"Now, now, that isn't any way to greet an old friend?"

Page glared at Fettrin.

"What the ###### are you doing here?"

"Busting you guys out. What else are friends for?"

"Oh yeah right. Like we believe your good intentions." Spoke Ta-vora.

"How did you get here?" Asked Larra, temporarily distracted from her concentration.

"There are many roads to hell, and there are those who can walk both ways..." Mused Fettrin.

"Point is, I'm here, I'm offering you help, and if you don't want it, I'll be just as glad to see each of your wills be twisted to that... strange lady."

Fettrin smiled, arched his eyebrows, and sat down on the edge of the pool, crossing his legs.

"Fine," Page managed to say through gritted teeth.
In all his run ins with Fettrin this was the first he wouldn’t try to bash his face in. The vellosian shook his sore hand, and turned back around. Larra was staring at him almost equally wide eyed. Ta-vora was confused and slightly indifferent.
"Good to hear it," Fettrin mused, he yawned and took a seat on one of the comfortable white chairs, Once he was an inch from sitting on It, it became a very uncomfortable looking black throne.
Ta-vora looked longingly at the now cooked fish in the water, he still had an empty stomach.
"For the record I'm the guitarist," Page said after a few moments of silence.
Fettrin chuckled.
"Okay," Larra said shooting up, "I have a plan."
"Care to explain?" Ta-vora said between barbaric looking bites of a rather large koi fish.
"So with Fettrin here we've almost doubled our power. That means we can definitely burst out of here forcefully if we wanted too."
"But we cant leave without my matrix," This time Ta-vora's mouth was full.
Larra stopped dead in her tracks.
“Okay.. So blasting out isn’t an option till we get that, but how are we going to hide Fettrin from Savage?”
“Look,” Page piped up, “Fettrin will distract Savage, while you me and Ta-vora get our our clothes and his matrix back.”
Larra was staring into space, taking it all in.
“Yeah,” She said finally, “Sounds good, in the meantime we should set a trap for Savage so we can get out easier.”

“Unless we plan on dropping chairs on his head, there really isn’t much here for us to use against Savage,” Larra mused, glancing around the room.

“That looks nice and hard,” Page motioned towards Fettrin’s throne. “But for a trap?”

“Mmffff,” Ta-vora agreed from the general direction of the fishpond. He reached for another fried tidbit, a funny looking black one, when the fish suddenly twisted around and bit his finger. Hard. Fettrin started cackling from his perch on the black chair.

“God, I hate water,” an all-too familiar voice issued from the fish’s mouth. “But I love your new outfits.”

“Demon!” Larra squealed, racing over to pick up and hug the shapeshifter, who morphed into a disgustingly cute black kitten. “How did you get here?!”

The kitten purred as she petted it. “Did you know that the fishpond is connected under the floor with several others in this station?”

“Hurry it up,” Ta-vor grumbled, nursing his sore finger. His patience with the shapeshifter was already limited. “We need to get out of here.”

Demon flicked his tail and narrowed cat eyes, annoyed at his drama being interrupted. “Fine. I knew that there had to be a dimensional barrier around this place, so I had Pom-pom look for somewhere he couldn’t become a portal to. Once we had that location, I hid in a delivery here and waited until it was brought into the rest of the station.” Larra raised an eyebrow, impressed. “And, I have a plan,” he added, grinning evilly.

“So you and Fettrin can take care of Savage then,” Page announced, forgetting that the shapeshifter was terrified of demons.

“I’ll set the trap, but them I’m going with you three,” Demon whined, leaping out of Larra’s arms and trotting over to a corner of the room. Becoming the large dog, he dragged a box full of stuff out from behind one chair. “Don’t ask.” Page shut his mouth and glared.

Larra bounced a little, grinning madly with excitement. She wasn’t sure if Fettrin was yet aware of the fact that the barrier surrounding Council Station allowed easy access to it through the dimensions, but was extremely difficult to get out. Like a giant lobster trap. The analogy made her grin widen. She, however had just figured it out, and was relatively sure she could even teleport her swords.

A loud nails-on-blackboard screech spilt the room. “Oops,” Demon muttered from his corner. He had been trying to push a large metal bowl across the floor. “Help?”

With a sigh Ta-vora came and picked it up, recoiling at the stench radiating from the orange goop inside. “Yuck! What’s in that?”

The shapeshifter glanced up as he trotted beside the Ka-nuth, leading him towards Fettrin. “Let’s see...ground up carrots, a bit of strawberry Jell-o, apple tree leaves, a pint of Vodka - “ Page’s head jerked up with interest, but Demon droned on, listing several normal, everyday things. “ - and orange peels,” he finished, grinning broadly. "All mixed together with a big stick from a maple tree."

“And this is for....what?” Fettrin growled, wondering why the shapeshifter seemed to want him to have it.

“Well...” Demon sat down suddenly, too scared of the preacher to go any further, “the Yu-tag- Yu-ta-”

“Y’ttagach.” Larra filled in, pronouncing it perfectly.

“Yeah, those guys! Well anyway, they’re very, very allergic to that particular mixture. Do what you want with it.” The dog gave a toothy grin, exceptionally proud of himself. Fettrin just scowled.

“I went to their dimension with Pom-pom,” the shapeshifter added suddenly, once again answering Page before he could ask.

Larra’s jaw dropped. “You...WHAT?!”

He grinned broadly. “I did I did! The weird makeup they wear? It’s to ward off evil spirits and boost their own power. And...” he paused dramatically and transformed into a dog-sized creature with six legs and scaly ridges down its back. “these creatures are supposedly sacred. So at least I’ll be safe.”

“Enough talk,” Page announced, “Let’s get moving.”

OOC: Woohoo! Who knew forcing yourself to write essays would kill writer's cramp!

This post has been edited by Synesthesia : 06 March 2005 - 11:47 PM

"Hmm. Very interesting, Demon..." Mused Fettrin.

"I think it may come in handy." Saying this, Fettrin rose, and stretched out one arm. He made a quick action, pulling his arm into his sleeve, and then back out again, and now held his hand a massive sword, 5 feet in length, 10 inches wide, 2 inches thick with 6 fullers on each side. Double edged, its pommel was a dull yellow glowing stone, and obsidian claws curved up from its hilt.

Fettrin plunged the Sword of the Styx down into the orange mixture, shattering the metal bowl, and producing a cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared, the sword could be seen, drinking up the last bit of the liquid.

"This should do quite well, if what you say about the mixture is true, shapeshifter. Page, I follow your lead. I have been able to see a bit out of this room, and if what information I can gather is true, we will need a small army. The forces we will be combating will be weakened by numbers."

Page rolled his eyes. "Oh. A small army? Great, I just so happened to have one lying around, lemme go get it for you."

Fettrin frowned, and then grinned. He brought his arm up, and let the sword slide down back into his narrow sleeve. The demon raised his face to the ceiling, slowly, while lifting his hands. Fettrin began to chant in hellspeak, then in other ancient forgotten tounges. He glanced down at Ta-Vora and the others.

"Ha! You thought I was being mystic, casting some big spell! Hwahahahahaha!"

As Fettrin laughed, he snapped his fingers, and a host of 50 Nirttefs crowded the room.

Larra bounced on her toes a little. In her opinion, the room nearly pulsed with the excitement of whatever was to come. Demon, still terrified over being directly addressed by Fettrin, cowered at her feet. No one said anything for at least a minute, aside from the shapeshifter’s occasional whimper.

“So...um...now what?” Ta-vora offered, wondering what, now that the ‘army’ was assembled, to do with it. He wandered over to Larra’s favorite chair, where the hallway to the dining room had connected, but when he tried to shove through the curtains, he met solid resistance. “The passage is closed.”

“So? Let’s blast it,” Page remarked, focusing an Autumn Petal around his hand.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Larra commented dryly. “There are far easier ways to break barriers, and besides, that’s maybe not the best way to go.”

“And you know a better way?” Fettrin snickered, cracking his knuckles eerily.

Ordinarily she might have felt obliged to sneer at the demon, or make some other crude comment, but the Acaran was in far too good a mood to bother. She put one hand over her eyes. “Survey says: ” Her other hand stretched out to point in one direction. “Thataway.” It was the same wall from which Page had begun his fishpond-destined flight.

Fettrin laughed mockingly, but Larra nearly skipped over to the drape-covered wall, still excited. Her intuition rarely failed her (now she knew it was thanks to the Telepath Levvitt), and she was sure this was the correct way to go. Larra could feel the cool surface of the barrier blocking entrance to the corridor even as her fingers came in contact with the white curtains. Smiling, the Acaran Codebreaker pushed her hand slowly through the barrier, feeling it dissolve as she did so. With a flourish, she swept aside the cloth to reveal a long, white covered hallway. “Let’s go look for our stuff. Sooner or later, they’re bound to attack us.”

Demon whimpered in terror, tucking his long, ratlike tail between his legs, but crept forward slowly all the same.

OOC: Been writing this for a while, took a while for its length but its good. Sorry, when I'm not working I'm out, and that leaves me limited time for the bars. I'll be checking daily for the next few weeks.
---------------
“Let me take this way
Page bolted down the long hallway, why wait for someone else to make the first moves. He dragged Antaries on the floor, ready to be brought up at a moments notice. He wondered where his shoulder-guard, boots and clothes had gone. Although he hated to admit it, holding a sword without it seemed much more practical. And the baggier clothing and soft-soled shoes lead to better movement. Page shook his head, and cursed to himself, “Till I die,” he repeated and then picked up his Page. His feet barely pattered on the stone floor, as his feather light steps propelled him at inhuman speeds. He saw the corridors end before him. A flowing white curtain blocked his path, inevitably backed by strong barriers and walls of sorts.
“No use in stopping,” he muttered.
A blackish blue glow enveloped his left arm, and soon it was covered by the black and silver armor, he used on occasion. Two silver spikes slid out of the forearm, and the arm split open on its diagonal crack, the silver bonds that held it shut shattered. Inside the cracks was an energy so simply and purely blue that it out shined even the most brilliant lapis lazuli.
Page felt the dark cracks in his arm stretch upward, but before he could show the pain he felt the curtain was only a few feet away.
---------------
The curtains behind Larra Exploded, the few Nirteffs near them incinerated by the sheer blast. The strong weaves that reinforced the wall between the two curtains now slithered freely in the air, trying to find refuge before their lack of purpose would make them disappear. Ta-vora crossed his arms at the sight. Page was right in sensing something evil at the end of the corridor. Unfortunately it was only Fettrin. Page had him by the throat with his bulkily armored left arm and Antaries’ glistening black tail blades were less then an inch from the Arch Demons face.
“Guess it wasn’t the right way,” Fettrin mused.
"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!" Larra yelled suddenly. "WANT TO GIVE US AWAY IMMEDIATLY!"
Page exhaled and let go of Fettrin. He sat back down on his throne and crossed his leg.
“This will probably get us some attention.”
As if on que Savage pulled aside the curtain. Page turned and took an offensive stance. That was the curtain he had to go through.
“Interesting architecture,” Page said tightening his grip on Antaries.
“Mmm,” Savage replied simply, stepping into the room. The curtain swung back into its original position but Page could sense the hallway was still behind it.
“I don’t remember bringing you here,” The Maestro’s servant said in his eerily calm voice.
“That might have something to do with the fact that you didn’t,” Fettrin replied.
Savage cocked his head.
“Never mind why you’re here, The Maestro would like to see you.” Savage gestured to Page.
“Not happening,” the Vellosian burst forward, he would make it to that door. Savage caught him on his way and struck him up into the air. He followed with a barrage of silvery attack weaves. Page dodged what he could, but barely landed on his feet.
His clothes had been punctured in several places from the blade like weaves but only one hit home. Page wavered slightly and then stood tall on his glanced leg. His adrenaline was pumping finally and the pain wasn’t going to matter pretty soon.
Caught up in trying to hit the Vellosian, Savage had trouble keeping Larra’s flurry of punches and kicks at bay. He landed a blow to Larra’s shoulder, and used the impact to propel himself backwards. He slid across the floor until he stood between Page and the door.
“This is a waste of time!” Page panted. “Keep freak show here busy, I’m gonna go get our s###!”
Page shot forward once again. Larra sensed his tactics, and closed in behind. Page brought down Antaries only to have it deflected by Savage and Page’s punch was ducked under.
What the Freak show hadn’t anticipated was the boot that struck him where he had dodged Page’s punch. Only now Savage realized that Page’s run was a diversion, and by the time he reached out to Grab the Vellosian, he had flipped over his head, and darted down the hallway.
Savage shoved Larra, and she went sliding back on the marble floor into the pool. Upon turning, instead of seeing the flapping curtain he was blocked by the regiment of Nirteffs.
Savage had lost his eerily playful nature, and the air became gloomy and stale.
“Don’t Interfere, or I will have to crush you,” he said firmly, the soft completely devoid in his deep voice.
Fettrin stood and chuckled.
“I’d like to see you try.”
---------------
OOC: Okay Hamster, Larra, Ta-vora, your turns, by the way be realistic Savage is stronger than Page, and I dont want him dead yet.

OOC: Ta-vora, are you still alive out there? I was going to say we should try to get this going more quickly, but...well...it’s not working out for me either, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.

About the first part...just couldn’t resist.:p

Larra stood up in the pond, the water up to just below her waist, and roughly shoved away the wet hair sticking to her face. Across the room Fettrin pulled the Sword of Styx from his sleeve, while Savage fought his way through the host of Nirffefs. She was about to get up and leap back into the fray, when something very important popped into her head. It was the 47th reason why she hated white. A quick glance around located the nearest chair, and the Acaran dived out of the pond and behind it.

“Demon,” Larra called through her link to the shapeshifter, sticking her head out from around the furniture to look for him.

”What?!” he sounded scared enough to wet himself.

”Get over here!”

”But why? I like my hiding spot.

Larra cursed aloud but continued mentally yelling at her constant companion. She could picture his reaction to her next argument. Because I need heat! White plus water, what more do I have to say?!

It came as predicted, an annoying childish giggle, then ”Okay.”

Next thing she knew, the world turned reddish as Demon’s flames engulfed her. They didn’t burn, only felt pleasantly warm, but Larra could feel the water evaporating right out of her clothes. ”Thanks.” She could yell at him for frying her hair later.

Ta-vora’s head poked around the chair. “What are you doing back there?” he asked, plainly confused.

“Tell you later, gotta go.” Larra chanted, jumping over the white seat and back towards the battle.

Savage annihilated a Nirttef with his weaves, dodged around Fettrin’s sword, and made a break for the passageway after Page. The Acaran mentally reached the door first, sealing it herself before the Y’ttagach warrior could reach it, twisting it around until the makeup changed completely, locking Savage in. The curtains settled into place, serenely concealing the exit.

She slid up a few feet away from Fettrin. “What took you so long?” the arch-demon sneered out of the corner of his mouth.

“We’re going to need more of those freaky hat dudes,” Larra snapped as a response, her eyes on the furious Savage as he turned back to them. She would need to keep part of her consciousness there, to be able to let Page back in.

“You will open that door,” Savage said coldly, in a tone that made Demon whimper, even though it was not directed at him. “Now.”

It only made Larra smile. “Sorry, hun. I seem to have forgotten how .”

His thin lips curled into a snarl. She hoped it was because of the pet name. “Well, you’d better remember quickly then.”

Savage attacked so fast the Acaran barely had time to duck under the fist aimed for her face, and completely failed in avoiding the knee to her stomach. Larra managed to get her right arm up to block before the freak’s other leg connected with the side of her head, but the force of the kick still threw her halfway across the room and onto one of the larger chairs, toppling it over.

The Fettrin was on him with the orangestuff-enhanced Sword of Styx, slicing this way and that with skill surprising for someone dressed as a priest, but Savage always seem just a step ahead of the arch-demon. Larra suddenly came in behind him, ready to strike, but the Y’ttagach warrior anticipated it and threw a weave blast over his shoulder. The Acaran had to stop to call up a quick barrier to deflect the deadly telepathic attack, then responded with one of her own, the air thickening in response. Fettrin took advantage of Savage’s slight distraction with a renewed flurry of sword attacks.

Before either realized what had happened, blood was seeping from a slash on Larra’s cheek, and the demon stumbled backwards from a glancing telepathic blow to his shoulder that continued on to shred a Nirttef into little black pieces. Savage was several feet away, smiling darkly.

“Almanta fera!” Larra yelled angrily, “Watch where you’re swinging that thing!”

“You’re the one who aims like drunk monkey, you stupid mortal!” Fettrin snapped, glaring furiously.

From his hiding spot under a chair, Demon whined and put his paws over his head. “I was wondering how long they’d get along...

OOC: I won't be around for awhile, but at the current post rate, I don't think it's really going to matter....

Fettrin had little more time to sling insults at Larra, as Savage was finishing off the rest of the Nirttefs. Fettrin had lost any hint of a leering smile. His dull, dead eyes were set directly at the freakish form, killing his assasins like flies.

"Larra, Ta-Vora, Demon," Fettrin growled,

"Get off the floor."

Fettrin dropped to one knee, and slammed his sword down into the seemingly-impervious floor. Cracks appeared in its white surface, but before they could come back together, yellow sludge began slopping out of the cracks.

"Get off the floor if you value your lives." Repeated Fettrin.

Larra holding a hand to her bleeding cheek, sensed what was happening, grabbed Demon, and jumped onto the rim of the pool. Ta-Vora followed suit, just in time to escape the rising flood of yellow slush filling the room.

"What's this then?" Shouted Savage, having ripped the head off of the last standing Nirteff.

Fettrin regained his trademark smile, and pulled the sword out of the ground.

"You can only be so strong as a mortal before you start to forget your mortality." Said Fettrin.

Savage walked toward the arch-demon, his boots wading through the slush.

"This trick can't kill me. But you're going to die for trying." Replied Savage.

Larra yelled from the rim of the pool, "The curtains! They're burning!"

Savage snapped his head around to see the dreaded white curtains soaking up the yellow fluid, and consequentially beginning to smoulder and burn at the bottoms.

Taking advantage of the moment, Fettrin slammed the jewel-pommel of his sword into the back of Savage's head, flinging him head over heels to slam upside-down into the opposite wall. A host of silvery tentacle-shaped weaves streamed from Savage, and rushed towards Fettrin. Fettrin brought the Sword of the Styx up in a cross block. Then something strange happened.

The weaves rushed into the sword instead of the Demons body, and the sword burst into white-yellow flame. Fettrin swung the sword around his head twice, in an almost Arabic fashion, and then thrust it in the direction of Savage. Tainted yellow weaves, dripping and spattering slime, writhed towards Savage, who barely had enough time to extricate himself from the wall, and fall with a splash into the yellow sludge. The tainted weaves exploded into his impression in the wall, and splattered its whiteness with a burning yellow film.

"You see Larra," Fettrin explained, as he swung his sword about his head again,

"While I was imprisioned in the sword by Ozymandias, I gained a significant amount of power,"

Savage had regained his feet, but his face was now covered with patches of festering and bubbling flesh, making his grimace even more nasty.

"My Nirttefs scouted the galaxy for energy sources and absorbed them,"

Savage, with a yell, made an inhumanly fast dash at the demon, who responded by bringing down his spinning sword in front of the dash, releasing hundreds of yellow tendrils, which streamed towards Savage. The oncoming assailant quickly back-tread, spashing up the yellow slime, and jumped to the side, barely missing the torrent of tainted weaves.

"Returning that energy to me, where I absorbed it into the structure of the sword, and myself."

Fettrin then gave a yell, and slapped the floor with the flat of the sword shaking the entire room, and evaporating all the yellow water, as well as the water in the pool.

Savage returned to his feet once again, breathing heavily.

"You still haven't hit me." Savage growled, smiling.

"Yes, and you might be in trouble if that was what I was going for." Replied Fettrin, smiling in turn.

With a snap of his whitened fingers, the room was once again brimming with black-hatted Nirteffs, who wasted no time in piling onto Savage.

Larra and Ta-Vora, seeing that the floor was once again safe, jumped down from the pool ledge, and rushed into the fray.

OOC: Sorry, I was in Mexico this past week.

OOC: Almost done! Just a few more shadows, head, hands, and bible, and Fettrin will have a decent vector graphic. Post people!

OOC: Leaving the bars has been a much needed stress-reducer for me lately, but today I realized that there’s just too much here for us to just let it die like we are. Nice work on the pics, Hamster, and let’s try to get this up and running again!

A slight frown creased Larra’s face as she stood by the empty pool, merely watching Savage take Nirttefs apart by the dozen. Blood ran down the left side of her face and dripped off her chain, leaving crimson stains across her white clothing. She didn’t even notice; the gears of thought turning rapidly in her head. It was almost normal for her.

Demon.

Y’ello. The shapeshifter was delirious out of fear, clinging to a burning white curtain with cat claws. In his mind, the fire provided a small degree of safety. Larra’s frown deepened. She spoke mentally to the shapeshifter in terms simple enough for him to understand in his present state.

Take hold of yourself. Think. I want you to leave this room. There is a barrierless opening two feet to your left. Take it. Search for our stuff or an escape route. If you meet Page stay with him. It will allow for easier communication.

Demon panicked at the thought.

But what if I meet one of the freaky-looking guys?

You said before you have a form that is sacred to them. Take it and you should be left alone. Talk to Ta-vora and find out if he wants to go with you. Without his sword or Matrix, there might not be much for him to accomplish here. Besides, this will get you away from Fettrin.

The shapeshifter whined, but climbed down from the curtain and assumed his strange doglike from, then trotted off in Ta-vora’s direction.

Good luck.

Smiling now, Larra turned her attention back to Savage, just in time to find him rushing at her, fist raised. She couldn’t even respond before the blow connected with the side of her face, hurling her across the room and into a wall. With a hiss, a dark shape latched itself onto the Y’ttagach warrior’s neck, then exploded violently. Savage merely seemed to shake off the effects of the kamikaze Nirttef’s strike.

Almost snarling, Larra pulled herself to her feet. Fist fighting was fun once in a while, but it got old fast, especially when she was on the losing end. With near-undetectable surge of power on the dimensional plane, the Codebreaker smoothly brought down the barriers around Crescent Station, quickly unraveling them at the weak points she had discovered previously. Larra wasted no time in teleporting her Acaran swords right into her hands.

In the manner of everything else on the station, the barriers quickly regenerated themselves, not they continued to present a problem.

Holding her left sword low, arching up diagonally across her body, and the right one back above her head, the tip pointing ahead towards Savage, Larra smiled innocently. It amazed her at the difference in power the blades had possessed since they were spelled. She felt much stronger just by holding them.

Savage charged, confident as ever. Without really knowing what she was doing, Larra channeled her telepathy down into the blade of her right sword. It took on a faint violet glow almost immediately. Swiftly she stepped back and brought the blade down, releasing the energy in a perfect violet silhouette of the weapon that grew slowly as it rushed toward the Y’ttagach.

Savage leapt over it even as Larra’s right-hand sword arched at him in a second attack. His weaves made to bring down the blade, only to have no effect on the weave-resistant raalixium metal. Speed was the only thing that could save Savage, but unfortunately for Larra, he had more than enough of it.

Hitting the ground just before her sword stuck home, he changed direction immediately to dodge out of the way. Larra missed completely, but Fettrin did not. Seeing as the Acaran had only left Savage only one possible way out, the arch-demon concentrated his weaves into a strike at that exact spot, catching Savage off guard and slamming him into a nearby wall.

The violet blast from Larra’s first attack struck the far end of the room and exploded violently, collapsing both the wall and an adjoining corridor.

His face twisted in rage, the freak rose almost immediately, blood flowing freely from deep cuts on the right side of his body.

“Gotcha,” Fettrin stated, wearing his favorite evil grin. Larra only smiled. Sensing that Demon was gone, she expanded her original barrier over the one exit until it enclosed the entire room. There would be no escape or reinforcements for Gaile’s favorite pet.

OOC: :hug: Yay! :laugh: Now I write post...