[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/suhtDil.png[/img][/center][center][color=purple][h2]Sliske Arkilius[/h2][/color][/center]
	The shadowy figure of Sliske sat atop a throne of corpses on his new planet, listening to the somber sound of a funeral march played by his entourage of ghostly musicians while the slaves of his empire trudged past in chains.  This was what he could accomplish when he was left in charge, when no one was there to interfere with his greater plans.  This burning rock was just a stepping stone to him on the way to the demonic throne.  Though the biggest issue was that Rufus always expected betrayal, it was the whole reason he had been in power for as long as he had.  A matter for another time, for now the incubus was merely there to strengthen the demons to immediate victory.  He couldn't help but chuckle.  He had a new arsenal to reinforce what powers had already had, and the time to showcase them would come soon enough.  For now, he stood from his mountain and clawed open a rift before him, leaving behind a number of his specialized minions to keep the land secure for the foreseeable future.

	The rift would open up in the foyer of Henry Pearl Avaritia II's manor, the scent of conquest still thick on him while Sliske stepped through.  Purple fire erupted from his eyes, the magical power inside him barely able to contain itself within his physical form.  He glanced down at the floor for a brief moment and noticed the surprisingly consistent trail of blood leading into the kitchen, then decided to follow it.  While he stepped, the iconic clicks of his heels on the floor would probably alert the hellhounds the fellow demon kept as pets, though it was of little matter.  In his current state, it would take an army to bring him to his knees.  Upon his arrival to the kitchen, the incubus spotted Henry groaning in pain while his body shuddered with repairs.  He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms and legs while he spoke.  [color=purple]"Y'know Henry, if you ever feel like staging a coup against Rufus, I'd be willing to bury the hatchet for an hour or two."[/color]  He pulled his lips back in a smirk, the faintest hint of silver flashing from between his lips.

[center][@floodtalon][@Lonewolf685][/center][hr][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/tUm0LZ8.png[/img][/center][center][color=gold][h2]Torag Draken[/h2][/color][/center]
	Torag had stayed at Alt Signia to help evacuate the area and preserve what he could of the Dwarven technology.  In the end, his work proved fruitful, much of the technology had been moved off world by the time of the eruption, though the issue of a superior forge to the other factions still existed.  There wasn't much he could do, though some of the volcano had survived the blast.  In the years of war to come, maybe an effort to rebuild could be made.  

	At the current moment, however, Torag was wandering the halls of Celestia in search of Tartys and Omega, wanting to congratulate them on their efforts to preserve what they could of the mountain in the battle.  True, none of that really mattered by the end of the conflict, though the time put into the fight would still merit at least a thanks.  He paused for a moment as the tuning notes of a guitar rang out a short distance, piquing his interest momentarily.  The draugr shuffled his way to the source of the sound, the trademark clinks of his armor giving away any approach he may have wanted to hide... for some reason, stealth wasn't his forte.  In a moment, his expression would light up moderately as he discovered the musician gracing the area with her music:  Tartys.  

	In a number of slow, deliberate movements, the wraith sat down beside the angel and listened in silence while she sang.  A beautiful tune it was, despite it's simplicity.  In the moment, something within him moved, long dead feelings coming to life once again while he started to read into the lyrics of the song... and one could almost see the traces of tears from long ago grace his cheeks.  While the girl finished her tune, the corpse choked out the words, unsure of how to say what he was thinking now.  [color=gold]"That... was beautiful, Tartys.  I had no idea there was an artist among this band of holy inquisitors."[/color]  He paused for a moment, his thoughts returning to the original reason he was even in this brighter end of the Angelic City.  [color=gold]"I also wanted to thank you for your efforts at Alt Signia.  They will not be forgotten."[/color]  He cracked his face into a pained smile, trying to convey some amount of emotion with the simple gesture.

[center][@Flamelord][/center][hr][center][color=sienna][h2]Syphax Gallus Aquilus[/h2][/color][/center]
	In the search of a better drink than what Celestia had to offer, Syphax had decided that a somewhat passive Neutral Zone famous for it's alcohol was his best bet.  He had left the drunk Dorafraki a note, detailing where he would be going in case she wished to join him eventually... or in the event he ended up trapped there, for one reason or another.  The harpy shrugged as he pushed aside the curtain that served as a door, tucking his wings in to fit through the small space the best they could.  They gave the top of the frame a little more than a light brush due to their sheer size, though it wouldn't be responsible for any real damage, though the pommel of his greatsword left a slight dent in his wake.  Once inside, he found the pub to be relatively empty, the obvious exceptions being a bright blue bartender and a skeleton that looked like it had made a hat for itself out of a mushroom.  [color=sienna]"Well, I take it that all three factions decided to sit down for a drink today."[/color]  He laughed to himself as he took a seat beside the bone bag, not really caring for the allegiance of anyone in the room.  His talons would wrap firmly around the stool, instinctively doing so to provide a perch despite his seated position while the aqua-colored bartender mentioned something about the house special.  [color=sienna]"Well, you found my one weakness.  Set me up with one of those, thanks."[/color]  He nodded to the girl, paying virtually no mind to the room people were frequently disappearing into.

[center][@Banana][@KoL][@Lucius Cypher][/center][hr][center][img]http://i.imgur.com/jGxtrS8.png[/img][/center][center][color=brown][h2]Marquis[/h2][/color][/center]
	Marquis stepped from his "private" armory, the term used loosely because he shared it with Stark Zealot and a new prototype unit he had yet to meet.  Despite the extremely vague information he had been given regarding the new AI, he felt much better about this addition than he did about Zealot and his mysterious, if not malevolent, personality.  He tipped his hat forward as the door sealed behind him and he made his way off, headed for the cafeteria.  While he had no need to eat, it would at least be a good idea to mingle with his comrades and figure out better ways to organize the Machina.  While others would like to sit on a victory, he was one to always keep planning, like some form of obsession.

	Moments later, he arrived to find the dining hall largely empty, with the notable exception of Tatiana Lorenz and Bastion.  He gave both of them a polite nod before taking a seat across from the pair, back straight as always.  [color=brown]"Greetings, friends.  I'd like to congratulate both of you on the battle, we made off with more than enough resources to cripple any advance Heaven may make.  They're on the defensive now, for certain.  I doubt we'll see much of the juggernaut Torag for a long time."[/color]  He shuddered ever so slightly at the mention of the commander, knowing that not even the unmatched precision of the robot could kill something like him.

[center][@Flamelord][@TheWindel][@KoL][/center]