[center][b][i]~IN THE BEGINNING~[/i][/b][/center] [i]The Old Boar's Inn; Bar[/i] [i]Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay[/i] [b][Missile/Pullo/Ganti/Kresnik/Locien][/b] A dark cloud settled over Locien’s face as he nastily snatched his flask back, muttering as he did. If someone managed to catch it, the message would be quite dark indeed, “A lot better, seeing that you’ll be dead in an hour.” Regardless, the next words would be much clearer, “What’s wrong with you? Stealing an alcoholic’s booze?!” The once cheerful manner Locien carried himself with had suddenly vanished, the limping bard sweeping up the last of his alcohol with an angry swig. Turning his attentions back to Missile, he curtly nodded, “Sorry love - I’ll need a raincheck, aye?” Grabbing Kresnik’s arm (but then thinking better of it with a noticeable release of his vice like grip), the elf verbally beckoned the hunter, “Right - enough fooling around. Supplies. Let’s get ‘em, mate.” Without another word, the bard strode off to the left, hastily making his way to a thick doorway, left of the inn's entrance... [Center]====[/center] [b]Kresnike/Locien[/b] The Old Boar’s Inn was a social hub, no two ways about it. In the Lows, there were famous establishments scattered to the four winds: Garcon’s, Madam’s Fashionable Boutique, The Hole. However, The Old Boar’s Inn was the centerpiece of it all, if not for its booze and entertainment, then for its marketplace. Kresnik would soon discover it if he followed his newest comrade through the darkened box of a room, the shady booths hiding individuals that would stop speaking if looked on for a second. Beyond the thick door would be a room impossibly high, holding all manner of life and trinket. Easily, it would resemble that of Wall Street, voices calling out madly as sales flew fast and thick. Fingers and hand gestures waved as verbal communication almost seemed impossible, the merchant’s sign language the only way to communicate more than a whisper’s length away. The bard would gesture to Kresnik, placing his beer-reeking mouth close to the hunter’s ear. The shouting would be barely audible as the question wormed its way into the dhampir’s ear, “What supplies do you need, mate?!” However, if Kresnik chose to wait for his meal, Locien would storm off without him. No doubt, he would be back, sooner or later, but what would happen next would be up to Kresnik… [center]====[/center] [b][Missile/Pullo/Ganti[/b] With the bard’s departure, the remaining party members would be left to the sounds of the Old Boar’s Inn. Kresnik’s display of guts and gore had been enough for a small break in the stream of customers, but now the establishment was back in full swing. “Davey” would be soon from the kitchen, holding a platter of food that would make mortal salivate - the chicken was truly cooked to the perfection, the mashed potatoes creamed just right and Bruce’s own dessert would be piping hot and begging to be eaten… Meanwhile, Fitz’s wife would feel fine at first. However, something would be apparently wrong soon, a heavy weight building in her gut… [center]++++[/center] [i]Old Boar’s Inn; Kuroda’s Quarters[/i] [i]Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay[/i][/center] [b][Chad/James][/b] Chad’s rather blunt narrative changed the kitsune’s face for a moment. The anger slowly melted into the expression of a blank slate, a slight air of befuddlement painted across her eyebrows and mouth. However, once the futuristic man was finished speaking (and demanding for his clothing and equipment), another slap found itself planted on his stinging cheek. “You really don’t know how this works, do you Chad Master Funk?” Asked his less-than-amused captor. The more traditional kitsune sighed before turning back to James as the younger kitsune continued to speak, “I ask the questions around here, and [i]I[/i] get to decide when you get your stuff back.” She paused again, giving his face an up-down look before asking another question, “And why should I believe you about this—“ Her hands waved in mock-fright, “all powerful evil god? It’s not the first time I heard something like this, and it isn’t the first time someone claimed the next doomsday.” She snorted, “And the explanation was told with far more excitement and detail.” [center]++++[/center] [i]???[/i] [i]Time: Second Hour and Third Quarter of MiddleDay[/i][/center] [b][Alec][/b] A chilling, single laugh was issued into his ear as the beak disappeared over his shoulder. The figure walked all the way around now, seeing that there was no struggle left in Alec, the umbrella firmly planting its tip in the crusted ground with a wintery crunch. The icy gaze looked down at the demigod as the voice continued to speak, “A wise assumption. However, I am not a cruel god.” The glinted gaze slowly met Alec’s, the dark coated god squatting to look into the dying man’s eyes. “Yes, I am [i]the[/i] reaper. Yes, you [i]are[/i] dying - this feeling—“ A froze leather glove jabbed at Alec’s cheek, “This cold, numb, [i]peaceful[/i] feeling is what death feels like. Do you like it?” Another single laugh, colder than the first, “Do you want to give in, Alec Drop Bass? Or do you want an escape?” [center]++++[/center] [i]The Wildwood; 10-5[/i] [i]Time: Third Hour of Middle Day[/i] [b][Nihil][/b] The self-proclaimed god would find little resistance in the air - his travels would be light and easy, soaring across the skies like jet, leaving a white trail behind him as he cut through the blue sky. As he traveled however, more detail would begin to appear, here and there. Among the fields, he would see groups of peoples ([url=http://40.media.tumblr.com/4f80598510d96ef2aa87cd9628f258ea/tumblr_n3b9l9MChU1r7llf5o2_1280.jpg]1[/url] [url=http://40.media.tumblr.com/ce48ae9c9a637ee2c87b96943b194d1d/tumblr_n3b9l9MChU1r7llf5o1_1280.jpg]2[/url] [url=http://41.media.tumblr.com/c7936215ab1e5aa70a6cd503bd70d751/tumblr_n3b9l9MChU1r7llf5o3_1280.jpg]3[/url] [url=http://41.media.tumblr.com/1d28ade478b746f21cb565c2c59395f6/tumblr_n3b9l9MChU1r7llf5o6_1280.jpg]4[/url]) and creatures. Some very large and imposing, even [url=http://i.imgur.com/SxHtlab.jpg?]monstrous[/url]. However, as the spiral became larger and larger, something would catch his eye. The landscape of The Crossroads rarely changed (at least from an aerial point of view). While colors would differentiate, they would also be similar in shades. However, this something would catch any flier’s attention, for from a forest it emerged and immediately, the grasses of the field it stepped upon would be darkened, as if by some great shadow or evil. In the same direction it would be traveling as the Malefane. Whether or not Nihil would feel its pull, he would have to decide. If he chose to plummet downward to inspect the new source of power, he would find the suns’ light quickly fading and darkness quickly absorbing any source of light. Even the air itself would feel thicker as he touched the ground. The field he would himself in would a grass most unusual. Its color would be varying yellows, oranges, reds and browns, its texture smooth. The touch, it would make musical notes, depending on its color. It would be firm, yet delicate, like that of an wind instrument of some kind. However, all of this might be lost upon the god as in the eye of the shadowy storm stood a [url=http://40.media.tumblr.com/adbe984f20320c256a9e1a72bfd3b097/tumblr_mjr1xma7fG1qg8i80o2_500.jpg]woman[/url] sitting on her legs, her stockings disappearing under her thin thighs. Her tall hat would wisp like smoke, as her thick, ragged cloak cover her shoulders and her much of her form. There she knelt, as if waiting for Nihil’s words or actions… But, if the call of the spire was too strong, Nihil would find himself soon at its resting place. In person, The Spire was impossibly large, winding dangerously, wickedly, into the sky. Its structure tall and dark, its very architecture spiny and dripping of power, protruded from the twisted forest that wrapped around its base. However, the god would himself in a predicament - not a few miles (at least this would be a quick estimate), the Malefane would find himself suddenly plummeting to the earth, all magic ripped from his being - apparently, this was a no fly zone. Below him would be nothing but tree limb and foliage to break his fall, but even then, the material of the wood would be sharp and unforgiving to the Malefane. If he managed to somehow land safely on to the ground, the self proclaimed god would find himself in a swap, without natural sunlight and very, very wet. [center]++++[/center] [i]The Lows; Umbra District[/i] [i]Time: Third Hour of MiddleDay[/i] [b][Nieet][/b] Reckless as ever, Nieet would find herself in a perilous predicament. Easily, she would be able to avoid being run over by small wagons and racing bi-wheeled vehicles (and somehow miraculously she would be avoid being stomped on by a great beast of burden), but just as the deal of a lifetime seemed within grasp, a monstrous eighteen wheeled [url=http://www.pktrucks.com/extend/content/truck/1283/3-div2972ra-xl.jpg]truck[/url] came barreling towards the young woman… However, Fate seemed to smile upon Nieet. She would feel something - something metallic, long, and [i]pointy[/i] grab her torso, roughly yanking her from the path of the truck. The outrageous woman would feel the air behind her whoosh by as she plummeted forward, more than likely falling to her knees (perhaps even worse if she truly wasn't paying attention). The metallic object ended up being a claw (if she looked to see what was currently reeling her in), grasping both boobs in its vice-like grasp. A series of gleeful chuckles issued from the from the vendor. "Heheheh. Glad to see you made it."