Exit

What Are You Listening To?

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^{__i think i need more sleep tbh.__}_______________________________.

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_{...^▇▇▇_^Team K Y O S H I__^{▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇}}

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█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █	____________________________________________________________________________________________________________.. ”Let me go!” ”Silence…” The woman dressed in shadow sank from her perch in the canopy, lowering herself toward the ground until there was enough light from below to push away some of the dark clinging to her. She became the segmented body of a creature, armored and limbed and impossibly long though its exact size was difficult to discern as it was still half obscured. It leaned in close to its trapped prey. The possessed's face began to lift unnaturally from its head as if the features of its mouth and nose and two eyes were made of a liquid that was being poured from a cup, poured over the face of the woman. The body immediately went rigid, its muscles tensing as if it were in pain, but there was no scream. No pleading or last words or any sound beyond the long, drawn out gasp of air as its last breath was pulled from its lungs. The eerie sound filled the forest and didn’t stop until all that remained when the exchange was finally over was the featureless head of a person who had just had their face removed. What remained was unnatural: A living person with no eyes or nose or mouth. Unable to make a sound. Unable to see or smell. When the vines around them loosened enough to allow them to move on their own, they immediately dropped to their knees and began to feel around where their face had been. ”Much. Better.” The creature finally said, turning back to Jin and the rest of the group. What was originally the face of a woman had changed to that of the face that had only a moment ago belonged to the man on the ground, though it was now free of dirt and grime and dried blood. Its voice too had changed, dropping in tone and becoming more masculine. ”Where were we?”	_ Location. The Wilds, Forest south of Gaoling. Time. Afternoon, SE+12 Exit as Koh ___________________________.............. Summary. Koh silences the possessed. _

What Are You Listening To?

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^__cronut._________________________________.

Post Deletion Request

Could someone be so kind as to remove this post from the IC thread of my RP?

Please and thank you!

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█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █	____________________________________________________________________________________________________________.. Exit    ”Tenet, here. You’ll be faster with this.” Faye turned the machete over in her hand and held the handle out for him to take. He holstered his gun, took the bladed weapon and immediately got to work on the vines while Faye took his place. ”Takoa. You too. You’ve got the sword.” ”Y-yeah. Okay.” Takoa answered back shakily. He lowered himself back into the vehicle and stepped out through the side, pulling his sword out of its scabbard once he was standing again. Before he got down on his hands and knees, he laid his rifle down so the light was facing the chassis. Theyra (Reman) Theyra    Reman took this time to get out of the car and took stock of what just happened. First the zombies, then the other car and now they are in a forest as Reman looks around. He feels uneasy, despite having never been in a forest before and this would be his first time. In this case, first times suck. But as the others were focused on cutting the vines. Reman went to check on Vun in the back of Jin’s car. But as he does so, out of the corner. He sees something and when he turns to face it. A moment passed as he slowly got out his pistol, he had the look of someone who has something they should not have.. “Uh… guys…” Reman sounded nervous. ”I see something, two somethings actually looking at us and we are not alone here.”’ Reman continues to stare at the figures he sees as if to see if they will move or act and will do unless someone snaps him out of it. shylarah    The tone of Reman’s voice, and the contents of what he said, put Ziotea on alert. Her hand crept toward the pistol at her side. “You mean like possessed, or...?” She looked out of the vehicle in the direction he’s staring, trying to get a view of whatever they are. She saw nothing. Exit    In the driver seat, Sumire began freaking out. Jin… JIN? What is that?! Before he could answer her, she was already turned around in her seat looking for something. On the floor of the backseat, having fallen between the legs of the passengers during the bumpy ride, was her helmet. ”Z-Ziotea… pass that to me quickly.” Outside, Vun slowly clambered off the car, strode a few steps away from the vehicle and began grazing on a lone shrub sticking out of the ground. His eyes bounced around curiously, as if it were another day. shylarah    Ziotea grabbed the bunny-eared helmet and passed it forward with one hand to Sumire. “What did you see?!” Exit    Sumire grabbed the helmet and shoved it over her head. Her hands held it firmly in place as the visor seemed to subtly change appearance and she began looking around. ”There… five o’clock… multiple… uh… just standing out there.” shylarah    With Sumire’s directions, Ziotea was able to spot the...were they people? They had the height to be. And they weren’t charging them, the way the possessed had -- that had to be a good sign, right? Wait, the horns, the glowing eyes -- her eyes widened. “Those look a lot like the creatures supposedly responsible for the disappearances,” she said softly. Did that mean they were spirits? ...Would they talk to the group if they tried to negotiate? canaryrose    Chu did not like what she was seeing. At all. She had half swung out from the car when her eyes had caught them, one of her long legs still inside of the vehicle. And then, her blood had ran cold. They were just inside the treeline, where the endless tunnel of green- so unusual to her, so strange to see so much foliage- just started to turn into a haze. They were black, tall. They rippled at the edges. What she thought were their bodies looked like nothing more than shadow, a black smoke blending with the shrubbery. But their eyes... “Fucking A,” she breathed. They were staring at her. “Guys. I think… I think they know we’re here.” It was such an inane comment, but it was all she could think. Stunned and feeling mildly ill, without being able to take her eyes off the creatures, Chu’s hand found the cold metal of her flashlight. She held it up and turned it on, staring into the green darkness. For once, her brave hands shook. Exit    Light swept across the mysterious figures for a brief moment before they, slowly, began to sink behind a nearby tree, disappearing from sight. In that brief moment, cloaks of twisted leaves and black feathers were visible as well as masks with long crooked horns. They seemed different from each other, though it was difficult to tell specifics with how quickly they dodged the light. “I’m getting kidnapped today aren’t I…?” Sumire half whispered under her breath. Outside, Feyi began yelling into the darkness, goading the figures to come out and show themselves while behind her, Takoa and Tenet were busy hacking away at vines. But it was taking time and it seemed their progress was slow. “They keep growing back!” Tenet finally yelled from under the chassis. vietmyke    ”I don't particularly care if they want to talk, whatever they're selling I'm not interested!” Jin grunted as he poked his head out of the sunroof, his rifle making a mechanical sound as he loaded a round into it. ”If they were friendly spirits or whatever, they sure have a weird way of showing it!” Jin flicked his light on, joining the others to sweep the surroundings with his light. He couldn't tell if they were avoiding the light because they didn't like it, or just to fuck with them, but it gave him an idea. ”Mire, flood lights!” he barked, nudging her seat with his foot as he slapped the light fixture at the top of the car. ”Chu, we're benders, we need some fire. More is better.” he grunted. shylarah    Ziotea frowned. She was also a fire bender, not that she’d deliberately used her abilities more than once. Her pistol was more familiar, comfortable. Same went for her spear. But right now.... “Where do you want the fire, Jin?” she asked softly, sounding uncertain. Exit    Sumire practically slammed the switch on Jin’s command. Lights lining the top of the Kyoshi flashed on and flooded the surrounding forest in bright white light, forcing the shadows to retreat and restoring color to their strange surroundings. The twisted and curious bent shapes in the dark became gnarled tree trunks wrapped in vines and branches covered in green that hung too low to the ground only a few feet above thick brush and dead tree trunks. And those unsettling figures observing from a distance, they dodged the light again, seeking shelter where they could behind trees and large rocks or in thicker foliage on the forest floor. It was easier to see them now, or more accurately see how many and where they were. They weren’t merely on the ground. There was movement too in the canopy above. Tokoa and Tenet at this point had stopped worrying about the vines and had joined the others with their guns drawn again. Vun continued to eat. ”Wait.” A thin hand, smeared in what looked like caked mud and dirt appeared from behind one of the trees. ”Do not. Shoot. Benders. Or they will. Descend. Please. They wish to. Speak.” There had been movement in the forest canopy before, but not like what followed. Twisting in the still persistent shadows above the group was something large. It moved unnaturally and in a way that made discerning its true size and shape nearly impossible. The shadows seemed to move with it, or perhaps it was so large that the massive dark blot against the forest canopy was the thing itself. Light from the floodlights climbed the nearby trees and helped push some of the dark away, making some of it more easily visible. There were jagged and bent limbs extending from its main body. Hundreds of limbs, clinging to the tops of nearby trees and moving in unison as it lowered part of itself down to the group, toward Jin. It stopped when there was enough light to illuminate its face clearly. Suspended in the shadows that clung to the roof of the forest was the gaze of a beautiful woman. Her bright green eyes were impossible to ignore against a backdrop of the still smothering darkness and the shadows that hung around her like a collar. Her porcelain skin was smooth. Free of any blemish and seemingly untouched by the forest surrounding. Her full lips were pursed as she spoke to the former Piperunner, her voice soft. Warm. Gentle. Safe. "Welcome. Chiiild. There is no need to be afraaid.” She moved an inch closer, tilting her face curiously at Jin. ”Do you speak for everyone?"	_ Location. The Wilds, Forest south of Gaoling. Time. Afternoon, SE+12 canaryrose as Chu Hua Yuan Theyra as Reman Xuoshi vietmyke as Jin Wei & Sumire shylarah as Ziotea Exit as Feyi, Takoa & Tenet ___________________________.............. Summary. The team attempt to assess the situation while Tenet and Takoa try to free the vehicles wrapped in the vines. Jin formulates a plan of action, but before they're able to execute it, they're approached by something. _

_Prompt:

The entity is currently addressing Jin. All other figures in the surrounding forest are still hidden.

What Lies Below

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Martinsville, Virginia 1836 └──────────────────────────────────

The smoke stack had been visible for some time, streaking across the late evening sky as an ominous sign that something terrible had happened. The direction and the distance indicated Beaver Creek, a plantation he owned. A plantation in his family’s name for nearly 60 years and the second his family had built in the state. There was money in those twisting black clouds, evaporating quickly. Bleeding him and his family like someone had nicked a vein. And although the blood didn’t run red, that color emptying into the sky was the unmistakable mark of their most profitable commodity.

A puff of smoke poured from his lips, and drifted lazily across the dirt stained window, obscuring his view of the plume. Obscuring his view of his reflection hanging over it. His gray eyes were the only thing visible to him, dressed in brimstone, returning his stare like they belonged to someone else. To something else. A demon, beckoning him to approach and save that which was his. It felt like a sign.

It felt a lot like punishment.

Movement in the corner of his eyes drew his attention away. From up the road, three men came into view with a fourth strung between two of them. They were signaling as they dragged the man through the dirt, throwing their voices across the field at somebody else out of view. Eventually, one of the men broke away from the others and began sprinting toward the manor.

He turned. ”Andy?!...” He yelled, snuffing the cigarette in his hand before stepping through a pair of nearby doors and onto the landing at the top of a flight of stairs. Below him, the main entrance had already been opened and a boy, in his late teens was standing there, peering out at something approaching with an intensity that read as both worry and excitement. ”Andy! What in the god’s damn is that commotion out there?!”

”Sir Hairston! Apologies!” The boy straightened, startled “Men are coming up the road. They’re calling for you, sir.” The boy replied, stepping back and onto the porch as if he were already in the man’s way.

The shouts were clearer now, less a muffled tune and more the vague shape of words that could almost be understood accompanied by the uneven approach of boots on loose gravel. He descended as they grew louder, getting to the bottom of the steps just as a man appeared in the doorway. George as he was known. A scrawny overseer who looked about as presentable on any day as he did now: Disheveled short brown hair. Out of breath and sweating profusely into an already well stained shirt that clung to him like a second skin. He’d tracked dust and dirt across tiles as he took another few steps inside and then propped himself up on his rifle.

”The hell is it, George?”

”Sir Hairston, sir... a driver,” the man said breathlessly. ”Found him hiding in the brush, ‘tween here and Beaver Creek. Says he was there. Says he knows what happened.”

”Coming up the road now?”

George nodded. ”Yessur,” And moved out of the way as the Planter stepped through the foyer and out the front doors into a quickly approaching dusk. Outside was more humid. The air stuck to his face smearing the last heat of the day across it. He could feel the beads of sweat on his skin but there was no cool kiss of the wind. Just smothering warmth and a stench in the air like ash. Above him, the sky burned in brilliant colors cast from the distant horizon by a setting sun. Its dying light stained his fields and the white wood walls of his manor in hues of red-orange encroached by violet shadows.

From his breast pocket he pulled out another cigarette and a match from a matchbox and had both lit and pressed against each other by the time the approaching men were halfway up his driveway. The yellow glow burned bright in the shadow cast by his downturned face, illuminating Hairston for the two men and the third strung between them as he stood waiting at the end of the path. He watched them too intently, a thousand questions apparent in the intense grey of his eyes made more intense by the match flame reflected within them. Whole conversations had with himself as they crossed the last few feet to him to present the driver they captured.

Hairston snuffed the match with a wave, flicked it into the dirt and pulled on his cigarette, burning nearly a quarter of it before blowing the smoke through stained teeth. He pointed at a spot on the ground and where the two men promptly dumped the third, putting his face in the dirt.

The driver looked as if he'd been dragged through the brush he was found in rather than merely found in it. The man's shirt was torn and stained in streaks of mud and dirt and his trousers were barely holding to his waist. And although rather difficult to see now, Hairston had noticed on the man's approach that his face had been cut up and his left eye swollen shut.

”Get him up.” He said quickly to the two standing on either side of him. They grabbed him by his arms and hoisted him to his knees. From his good eye, the driver looked up at Hairston.

”Where you running to huh? I own every acre from here to the horizon ain't nowhere you can run.”

”I wasn't... sir.”

"No?"

"No, sir. I was comin' to tell yuh what happened." The man on his knees gestured behind him in the direction of the smoke stack still visible in the fading light.

Hairston pulled on his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air, taking a moment to study the plume again. "Beaver Creek." He turned back to the driver. "You are a driver there?"

”Yessur.”

”Well then, get on with it.”

”It was a man.”

There was another pause, this one suspended in the air by all men present. A silent acknowledgement and quiet disbelief. Hairston chewed his tongue for a moment, glanced at the other two men who simply returned his, and then took another pull from his cigarette, lowering himself to the ground as he inhaled until he was level with the driver. He smiled something vile as he let the burnt air in his lungs escape as curling tendrils of smoke that wrapped around stained teeth and drifted through his beard.

"You're telling me a single man burned down my plantation."

”Yessur.”

”Are you lying to me? Cause if you lying, I’ll have George over there shoot you from where he's standing on that there porch, you understand?”

The man shook his head. ”I ain’t no liar, Mr Hairston. It was one man. A-..." There was a bit of hesitation, but eventually he resolved to finish the sentence. "...A white man.”

"A. White. Man..." Hairston repeated slowly, not believing him. His trust was already hanging by a thread, but there was a curiosity to it he couldn't deny. Some small desire to see where this tale led. "Alright. One of mine?"

Another head shake. "No sir... he was in the field... workin' it."

This time it was Hairston who shook his head. ”No. I don't have anybody done recently got here working for me. No contracts."

"I swear..."

"You know what this man look like?” To which the driver only nodded. There was another pause, this one shorter, followed by a finger snap and wave at Andy, who had been standing on the porch next to George. ”Andy!”

The boy jumped down from the porch and ran up to the group of men.

”Andy, get your ass down to the Williams and fetch their son.” The boy nodded and immediately took off down the driveway. ”And not the dumb one! The artist!”

Martinsville, Virginia 1836 └──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐ 2026 Pine Ridge, South Dakota

^{#bca346 ....|..... outfit .....|..... Main Street}

Noah put the car in park and shut the engine off, letting the growl of the engine die and the still eerily quiet that was Pine Ridge proper find him again. It was difficult adjusting to the speed of sound in a small town, especially built into the base of a mountain as it was. There was no comfort in noise and no warmth from an ever present sun. Just the cold embrace of an ice wind as it tumbled down the peak and rolled over the town nestled in its shadow. Walls kept Noah’s thoughts from tumbling out of his head and there were no walls here. His thoughts kept getting away from him, running toward the mountain and flitting into the trees, carrying with it ideas of ‘what’ and ‘where’.

Right now, the ‘where’ was Main Street and the ‘what’ was the Sheriff he was hoping to find through the doors of the Sheriff’s station.

Noah retrieved a thin binder from the passenger seat and stepped out into the biting cold of an early morning. Clouds stuck to the sky and obscured the nearby mountain peak and cast everything in a drab shade of gray, but the air, as ever, was crisp. It filled his lungs with ice that shocked the lethargy from his eyes and then tumbled free from his lips as a rolling ball of hot air.

He flipped his wrist and checked the time.

7:00

^{#bca346 ....|..... outfit ............... #00aeef ....|..... outfit ............... Sheriff's Station}

_Exit
Noah entered the station, exchanging the biting cold with the comfort of working heat and the smell of old carpet and worn leather.
_Webboysurf
A small bell jangled as the door swung in, revealing wood-panelled walls illuminated by fluorescent tubes in the ceiling.The lobby wasn’t particularly spacious and revealed much of what the sheriff’s station had to offer. An empty check-in counter, wood-carved and still-gleaming from a recent polish, stood in wait with an old bench to the right. A small, unsecured gate that came up waist high blocked anyone from wandering further into the space. Another desk sat a few paces behind the check-in counter, with an old oak door and window leading into an office. It was ajar, a singular yellow lamp glowing. The shades were drawn closed, obscuring the figure shuffling papers on their desk inside. To the left, past the gate, stood a couple holding cells made of brick and tarnished metal bars. Signs indicated that down the hallway past the cells were evidence lockers and the morgue.

It took a moment before the sound of wood scraping against wood came from the office, and a tall man in a tan uniform stepped out into the doorway. The bags under his eyes betrayed weeks of late nights and early mornings, if not months. He sniffed a little as he took in the man before him, a look of momentary confusion crossing across his face. A stranger in town, showing up this early in the morning, was never a good sign. Sheriff Dev Sarkar smoothed his shirt, as he took a few steps closer, letting a polite smile tug at his lips. ”Good morning,” he offered, crossing over towards the gate. ”What can I do for ya?”
_Exit
Noah returned a greeting nod and a smile, studying the man on approach and deciding with little reason that this was the man he needed to talk to. There was hardly anyone else in the station. “Good morning,” he began, offering his hand for a brief handshake across the divider. “Apologies, I know it’s early and I know you haven’t seen my face before. You’re probably a little confused but I promise I’m not here to waste anyone’s time. I’ll get right to the point. I’m uh Noah. I’m a private investigator looking for someone and I was hoping you or someone here might be able to help me out with a little information?”
_Webboysurf
Dev took the man's hand for a firm shake, before letting his hands naturally settle on the belt of his uniform. ”Dev Sarkar, acting sheriff here. Inherited quite the mess.” As the man shared his purpose for being there, the sheriff sighed. ”Missing person? We've been getting a lot of those.” He motioned towards a bulletin board against the wall, overstuffed with pinned leaflets containing faces and names. There were more than a dozen, with more stacked up on the desk nearby. ”Got a name to narrow things down?”
_Exit
So that’s what that was…

Noah followed the man’s eyes to the board and the nearby stack of papers. To say there were a few was an understatement, considering the population of the town. Thankfully, Noah had done a bit of research of his own before arriving and knew full well about the oddity in number of open cases. There had indeed been a spike of late and his person of interest would be yet another name to add to the pile.

Unfortunately for Noah, knowing what to expect didn’t make it any easier a pill to swallow. He shook his head, the sigh that jumped from his chest turning into a name in a single breath. ”Eleanor Crowe. Went missing in Connecticut a few months ago and now I’ve got a daughter who wants to see her mother again. She’s reason believe she’d come to South Dakota. To here.”
_Webboysurf
The sheriff frowned, brows furrowed in thought. He crossed over to the desk, rifling through the stack of papers. He knew all the names of folks by heart who had gone missing. ”Name doesn't ring a bell,” he admitted, setting the papers back down when his thoughts were confirmed. ”Long way from Connecticut, though,” he mused, looking back at the detective. ”What makes your client think she came to Pine Ridge?”
_Exit
”Name’s written all over a journal in her possession.”

Noah's eyes lingered curiously on the bulletin board, automatically trying to memorize each name and face. He didn’t mean to. It just happened. Like a reflex or a defense mechanism that he had little control over. He could already feel the gears turning in his head. Could feel the subtle beat of excitement rising in his chest not unlike the first time he opened a puzzle box and poured the contents on the ground.
_Webboysurf
Dev nodded slowly, scratching his chin as he mulled over the revelation. She could have been a local back in the day, but the name Crowe didn't mean much to him. ”Makes sense… due diligence and all, to start here. She could have grown up here. Lots of folks left a few decades back, some kind of mining incident.” The sheriff said it more for himself than anything, as he recognized that look in Noah's eyes. It didn't matter why she came back, just where she had gone. Stopping here was a professional courtesy, a way to get the lay of the land.
_Exit
Noah pulled open the Binder that had been tucked under his arm and jotted down a note. ”Pine Ridge.” Noah said aloud, as if naming the first piece. He nodded toward the bulletin board. ”Are these all recent?”
_Webboysurf
The question stung, even if it was the most obvious follow-up to seeing just how many people went missing in this small town. ”Last year or so,” he replied bluntly, motioning to the board. ”Try to keep the most recent up, and the kids.” He paused, as if the words tasted sour on his tongue. Dev shook his head, averting his gaze. ”Picking which ones to keep up is the hardest part.”
_Exit
It was impossible for Noah to ignore the all too familiar lump that Dev had just placed in his gut, or more accurately replaced after it had been momentarily forgotten about. It was the unfortunate reality for their line of work and something no one who cared ever truly got over.

”I know the feeling. It never really gets easier, even when you get to take some down. You just end up taking that pile home with you.” The head shake he gave Dev read like it was meant for him. An acknowledgement of the difficulty of the job that he himself knew full well, but it was really an unintended physical reaction. Shutting down the part of him that wanted to drop everything to do something, anything, about a wall of missing children was difficult. It was a hole he’d fallen into before and one he knew he wouldn’t be able to climb out of until he was knee deep in a town full of shallow graves and half-drained lakes. There had to be a reason.

Any reason.

Another headshake. Another note. Judging by recent events and the bulletin board itself, Eleanor could be a part of a larger, missing whole, but it was impossible to know for sure. Irresponsible even to assume. It was, however, even more irresponsible to ignore the question of what exactly was going on in Pine Ridge, he tried to reason. Arabella’s mother was involved in some way with the town itself at the very least. He just had to find the pieces directly connecting it and her, and if that happened to involve solving the rest of the board, well that was just good investigative work.

”You said ‘acting Sheriff’ and I noticed the website had a Sheriff Hawthorne. Is he also missing?”
_Webboysurf
”Damn, gotta get that fixed… I’ll have to give Sutton a call about that.” Dev repositioned his hands onto his belt again, letting out a few harsh puffs as he considered what he should share. It wasn’t exactly an investigation, and the medical examiner had said a lot of words that ultimately boiled down to one simple fact. ”Hawthorne is in the cemetery, died of natural causes in his sleep.” It was a callous way to describe it, but it was easier than trying to find more polite ways. They had more pressing matters. ”You got a picture of this Eleanor? Name doesn’t ring a bell, but a face might.”
_Exit
”I’m sorry to hear that,” Noah said. It was genuine, if brief. A mental note had been checked and that was that, but it was no easy task to step into such a role, especially during such a strange time.

He flipped to the back of the binder to where a picture of Eleanor had been clipped, but as he turned the last page, he was reminded of another image he’d brought with him. Tucked into the corner just beneath Eleanor’s and peeking out from under the corner was the picture he’d snapped of a very specific drawing.

There was a brief pause before he pulled the more relevant picture out and held it up so Dev could see it clearly. ”This is from a few months ago.”
_Webboysurf
Dev studied the picture as it was shown, squinting as he got a good look. It took a moment, but there was a sudden look of recognition. He had seen the woman, but only briefly. ”I'm afraid I don't have much to offer in terms of details… but she was here.” He sighed, shaking his head. He remembered the red hair, as it was a bit unusual around Pine Ridge. It was hard to keep track of all the tourists, unless they did something particularly memorable. Plenty of young adults who want to get freaky in a ghost town, some who wandered into unsafe areas, and some who got a little too into roleplaying like they were from the 1800s. This woman, Eleanor, was none of those.

It was the circumstance of when he saw her. It was late, past the closing time of the bar as he was going to stumble his way home. Warren was busy, so the sheriff didn't have his usual way home via his brother. Most people were either turned in or on some sort of guided (or unguided) tour of the older parts of town if they were out that late. Eleanor had been standing at the corner… though which corner eluded him. She was staring at a building, as if she were some lifelike sculpture. It was strange. When she did turn to look in his direction, her gaze never met his. It was spooky, even for a ghost town like Pine Ridge.

”Saw her on main street, probably around eleven a couple weeks back. I think it was a Tuesday. It was weird she was out so late… but I was off duty and I wasn't gonna book an old lady for loitering in a town like this.” His description was nonchalant, though the reality was clear on his face. Dev wasn't looking forward to adding a new picture to the board.
_Exit
”Makes sense, and a sighting is plenty. That’s confirmation and a timeframe,” Noah began to say, although the breath that followed after was framed as a ‘but’. Reduced now from ‘months’, two weeks was still a pretty large frame of time. ”But uh… was she alone?” He furrowed his brows. ”What was she doing?”
_Webboysurf
”She was alone,” Dev admitted, brow furrowed as he tried to remember anything he could. The memory was fuzzy, like a drunken dream that he couldn't quite grasp. Had she been doing anything? He didn't think so. She was staring at something: a building, or maybe the mountain? The sheriff shook his head. ”I only saw her for a moment. All I saw was her on the street corner. She could have been waiting for someone, or she could have been lost. It's hard to say.”
_Exit
And that was it. No familiarity with her name. No direction. No obvious intent. Just a face, a time and a mystery. Noah jotted down another note as he shifted a piece of a puzzle around on an empty board in his head, orientating it aimlessly as if he could see the image with just his single frame of reference. But he could not. There was too little here and he doubted he’d be able to glean anymore information from the Sheriff. The last sighting of her was weeks ago, alone and lost, and there was too much strange going on in a town full of disappearing people for similar activity to immediately scream Eleanor. He’d have to move on. Get closer to the few clues he had.

He nodded, both for Dev but also as acknowledgement to himself. This was the starting point and all things considered, he’d had worse. ”Okay. That’s a start. I’ll head down to the corner and take a look. See if I recognize anything from my other notes but uh… if you end up remembering anything else or she just happens to turn up…” Noah replaced the image and pulled out a card. On it, Irving Investigations was printed in black ink dead center with his name and number beneath it. He handed it to the Sheriff.

”I’m going to do what I can to keep this name off your board.”
_Webboysurf
The sheriff took the card, giving it a once over before sliding it into his back pocket. Given Noah's appearance, it seemed the private sector paid a lot better than a sheriff's salary. Maybe Dev had earned that kind of reprieve from the front lines, or maybe he deserved to be stuck in a place like this. He gave Noah a firm nod, holding out his hand for another shake. ”It would be nice to have a win for once around here, Irving. I'll loop my officers in on this, and we'll help however we can.”
_Exit
"I appreciate that." Noah said, accepting the handshake. "Thank you, Sheriff."

Noah turned to leave, but hesitated. A thought had lingered too long in the back of his head, and now that he'd been reminded of it, it was refusing to leave him alone. "Actually..." Noah turned around and pulled from the back of his binder the second photo he'd been holding... or hiding. It was a photo of an old sketch of some person of interest, the original nearly 200 years old.

"This is going to be a no, but have you seen anyone who might look similar to this?" He wanted to roll his eyes, but he managed to control himself.

^{interactions ....|.... Dev Sarkar............... mentions ....|.... Arabella & Clint (indirectly) ............... collabs ....|.... @webboysurf}

Blood of the Red Sun. Light of the Dark Night. ⁽ᵉˣᶦᵗ ˣ ʳᵘᵇʸ⁾

I can barely quote all that bbcode

@Ruby

Idk it seems misquoted.

Blood of the Red Sun. Light of the Dark Night. ⁽ᵉˣᶦᵗ ˣ ʳᵘᵇʸ⁾

Absence was difficult to measure in a vacuum. Bereft of anything to compare. Void of information. An infinity that is both too large to grasp and too small to pluck between two fingers. To find meaning in it was to try to imagine the shape of nothing. Yet, in the endless vast empty that was the expanse of space, a spreading dark against a pitch black sea was measurable only by that which could bridge nothing.

Light was the breath of the stars themselves, returned to the cosmos and carrying with it the story of the universe. Sharing information. Defining causality. It was the rule of all things, existing to tell it and protect it, so when a stretch of the night sky was absent of it, that absence spoke volumes. A black scar struck across the skies above Krypton, snuffing out a million stars.

First discovered a millennia ago by ancestors of the House of El, by the progeny of the first navigators. The question of its existence sparked debate among scholars in college halls and reverence among the faithful in the church, but for years the question remained unanswered. A mystery useful only to the devout and assumed by a select few. It wouldn’t be until nearly a thousand years later that the question would be posited again, this time by the last children of Krypton who looked toward the stars only to see a scar turned to a gash swallowing the light.

__________________..

…Deep Space. …RSF +248,771.44:-93,502.18:+411,990.73 …Position of the last known supernova event. A collaboration of members from the Science and Military Guild are dispatched ____ to investigate the edge of the local void. Among them are Kara Zor-El, a prominent __ young expeditionary scientist, and Commander of the Vel’Ara, Lor-Zod. __

_________

_Exit
Lor stood at the helm, doused in low light and staring intently through the panorama before him, contemplative. Concentrating, It wasn’t new to him, this assignment. Escorting teams of both the Explorer and Science guilds often meant time spent in space uncharted, or to the edge of neutral zones. Knowledge never stopped expanding, even when there was no room left to grow, or even when at the very least there was nowhere safe for it left to grow. Protection was a part of what he did. What he was good at and what he enjoyed doing. What he didn’t enjoy was the unknown. It was impossible to protect against a thing he could not see or read or feel. It was impossible for him to fight against nature itself, or as Lor was starting to understand it, the laws of the universe. No weapon or defense apparatus in Krypton’s arsenal could stop… this.

Debri, by some miracle, still present and spinning around a point of space that was once a star, now a tightly wound collection of ejected material, and not even in the original position. Smothered in pitch black and visible only by the thin lines of light tracing them courtesy of Kayla. They followed a predicted path, painted by her as a thousand rings trapped in a chaotic dance around the only nearby concentration of gravity. An anomaly shrouded in darkness and its origin a puzzle that broke the laws of physics. Whatever did this was not something Lor-Zod knew how to stop.

What really bothered him was the scale of time. The flash of light was detected a mere week ago. That tell tale sign took a million years to reach Krypton. The void they were standing in was bigger now than it was when they left and whatever did this, whether natural or not, was also much closer to their home. A million years closer.

”We might have flown right past it.” He mostly whispered to himself.

”Flew past what?”

Kayla apparated in the open space in front of him, floating above the ground at about his eye level but standing, considerately, a little to his left. A girl about 12 inches in height. Bleach white hair a curtain that fell to the back of her knees and two locks held over her shoulders in perfectly shaped columns, pinched in large solid silver hair cuffs. The gown she wore was white with edges lined in black and the elegant crest of the House of Zod emblazoned across the chest. It was cut at the midriff, opening to an off-white underlayer that covered everything down to her feet. There were golden bands clamped on either side of her above her hips and under her ribs.

She stood, or floated, elegantly in place, spinning every so slightly as she addressed Lor.

”Whatever caused this.”

”I didn’t detect anything.”

Lor pressed a hand to the back of his neck to relieve some pressure and closed his eyes. The pressure didn’t go away. What he was seeing and what he was hearing was only making things worse.

Didn’t detect anything. That’s much worse.

”Kayla. Refresh handshake with Kandor.”

”Last exchange was an hour ago.”

”I know. I want another and increase that to every five minutes.”

”They’re going to absolutely love the constant updates of nothing.” Kayla replied deadpan. ”Happy to.”

”Thank you. Kara?” Lor turned to the girl standing nearby, her gaze still fixed on the panorama. He knew she was seeing it through a lens very different than his own and it was at rare times like these that he wished he could see through a lens like hers, if only to understand what he could not. Everything was so black and white to him. Some answers required a little more color. ”The way I understand it, the death of a star leaves behind a stellar body, but I don’t see one. So what happened? What are we looking at?”
_Ruby
Kara allowed silence to be the first word in response as her eyes moved across the panorama, not looking at the darkness itself, but at everything around it. The debris, the predicted orbital traces, the direction of the missing light. The starfield beyond the void. Every fact Kayla had painted and every fact the universe had refused to provide.

“No neutron star,” Kara said. “No white dwarf. No black hole accretion signature. No expected radiation profile. Debris field present, but displaced. Angular momentum inconsistent with standard collapse. Ejection pattern wrong for supernova. Wrong for collision. Wrong for artificial detonation, unless the device operated below all detectable interaction thresholds, which is functionally identical to saying magic, and I object to that on wanting-to-keep-my-Academy-graduation-diploma-grounds.”

Kara gave a silent sigh as she lifted one hand, fingers moving through the projected rings. Kayla adjusted the model without being asked.

“Possible explanations. One: sensor failure. Rejected. Multiple platforms, same absence. Two: stellar remnant present but non emissive. Unlikely. Gravity profile insufficient. Three: remnant translated. Possible, but energy requirements obscene. Four: local spacetime excision.”

Kara’s expression did not change, which somehow made it worse.

“Something removed the star,” she said. “Not destroyed. Removed. Or displaced it into a region not causally connected to this one.”

Kayla’s small face tilted. “That is not better,” she said.

“No,” Kara gave a tiny snort, “It is absolutely terrifying, and potentially fascinating.”
_Exit
“Potentially fascinating.” Lor repeated. It was meant as a question but his tone could be mistaken for agreement. He’d never admit it in present company, but ‘potentially’ was leaning more ‘definitely’.
_Ruby
Kara stepped a half step closer to the display, index and middle fingers tracing what she saw, “The supernova flash may not have been death. It may have been boundary failure. Last light emitted before the system stopped participating in normal spacetime.”

“And the void?”

Kara shrugged, blue eyes darker in the soft lighting of a Kryptonian military bridge. “Expanding. Or we are only now seeing the historical expansion. Either way, the visible absence is old data. One million years old. Present state radius unknown. Present state vector unknown.”

She finally looked at him.

“If it is natural, we do not understand the universe well enough to defend Krypton from it. If it is artificial, then someone has weaponized nonexistence. Recommendation: immediate full-spectrum quarantine of all telemetry. No close approach. No probe recovery. No physical sample retrieval. No heroic stupidity.”
_Exit
Lor gave a curt nod. “Kayla.”

“Isolating all telemetry packets and transferring analysis authority to the science module.” Kayla replied smoothly. Her dazzling form blinked out of existence and reappeared near Kara, the edges of the AI becoming jagged and misaligned for a half a second. “Unfortunately, I cannot do anything about the ‘heroic stupidity.’” She threw her hands up in mock defeat. Lor gave her a look.

“Weaponizing non-existence…” he began, turning again to Kara. “My next question would be why? What is the purpose of removing a star? One at the center of a hostile system I can understand, but this is galaxy spanning. It’s wasteful.”
_Ruby
“Only if the stars are the target. They may not be. They may be fuel. Anchors. Boundaries. Containment points. Or collateral damage from something moving through normal space incorrectly.”
_Exit
Lor shook his head. “Nothing on that scale should exist…” he said, stepping away from the center of the room. Out of the floor from a crease pressed into the cold metal, several separated slices of a console were carefully lifted and assembled on their own, pieced together perfectly so the seam at their separation was invisible. It finished just as Lor approached. He pressed a finger against the unmarked surface and several beads of light appeared in the space in front of him. Small Kryptonian script populated next to the miniscule motes, labeling each for the Commander. With a few finger strokes, the beads of light began to coalesce into each other.

Outside the panorama, barely visible in the dark, probes that had already been dispatched to a distant holding position began their return journey to the ship.

“Kayla. Put up the star chart.”

The projection in the center of the room began to shift, the chaotic rings and jagged outlines of tumblings rock breaking apart into a million beads of light that spread across the entire room almost seamlessly with the stars visible outside. When they finally settled, stretching across the bridge was Andromeda, its bright center spinning and its arms sweeping the edges of the room. A dazzling array of light and colors trapped forever in their spiraling dance.

“Zoom all the way out and plot every recent similar event.”

Andromeda immediately began to shrink, forced into the center of the room until it was but a miniscule disk of lights that was joined by others. Eventually, these disks began to form filaments. Glowing strings spanning an incomprehensible distance, twisting around each other into fingers that scraped at the dark. Between these luminous structures were pockets of black space where nothing existed. Voids. These were nothing new.

Kayla appeared again in the center of the room near the edge of one of these voids. Nearby, a small circle indicated where their home galaxy was located, a single bead of light barely distinguishable as part of a stem of the known universe. Near it, a series of small flashes were being mapped by a persistent white path that trailed behind each luminescent burst, connecting them to each other. The footprints of something that shouldn’t exist.

Lor didn’t need to ask if what they were seeing was abnormal. The death of nearby galaxies, one star at a time, all happening locally, was not normal by any means. Galactic empires expanding their reach? Drive them back. Super massive black holes? Avoid. The heat death of the universe? Well that he couldn’t do much about, but there was a peace in accepting the end of all things. These were his only options and none of them fit. Kara’s options however, all of them were the worst case scenario compared to his.

Lor moved through the projection, watching the white line crawl ever closer to their home. Through it, he could see Kara watching as well from the other side, those same eyes he’d seen earlier looking again at a thing he could not understand with a lens he did not have. The hungry line danced for a while in front of her, eating away at another helpless galaxy.

“I almost prefer it was magic.”
_Ruby
Kara’s blue eyes shadowed as she watched the projection, as she listened to him, both words and tone. She stepped closer to Lor, passing through the holographic projection, the light flashing across her eyes for half a second as she fixed on the source of the error presented. Her voice dropped in volume, the heat of irritation barely visible under her otherwise cool demeanor.

“Assumption error. You’re treating the stars as targets. They may be resources, anchors, boundary markers, or collateral damage,” she repeated herself, gently. If it had been someone besides Lor, she knew she wouldn’t have repeated herself so gently.

Plans built on false premises always fail immediately when execution begins.

She knew the Kryptonian Unified Forces Handbook. Not as well as he did, she imagined, but enough to know an assumption error was the immediate cessation of military thought and action, because of the disaster it would, not could, invite. Kayla’s projection flickered around the latest burst of light, marking its position, timestamp, and estimated origin. Kara watched the line crawl another fraction closer to home.

“If the line is intentional, it has a vector. If it has a vector, we can model it. If we can model it, we can decide whether Krypton is in its path.”
_Exit
“Calculating vector…” Kayla announced as she blinked to a new position within the model universe. The strands of strung together galaxies pulsed, and new lines by the thousands began to branch from the original stem, spinning a web of light that slowly encroached upon the more dense pockets of the universe.

“Collatoral damage.” Lor repeated, his eyes meeting the young scientist’s. “What bothers me is something moving through space incorrectly, as you put it, rolling over a star like a boot over Zuurt droppings. Nothing like that should exist and yet it could. My assumption is that I cannot stop… I cannot stop something that can ‘weaponize nonexistence’.”

The hesitation was heavier than he expected. Not laced in fear or doubt but an inability to accept the words as he spoke them. It was heresy, that so casually changing the laws of physics could exist by unnatural means. That they themselves didn’t already hold this power and were now forced to learn how to defend themselves against it. And it wasn’t just him. By extension the Military Guild as a whole would be unprepared. They just didn’t know it yet.

“I need you to tell me I’m wrong. Again.”

Lor was a simple solution to simple problems. Kara was not. If there was an answer to this puzzle, it’d be with her, buried beneath her more even, correcting tone.

Behind her, the web continued to expand, inching ever closer to their home galaxy until…

“Calculations complete.” Kayla appeared now where a white line had come to a stop, right on top of their galaxy. The rest of the web had been removed and the void edge had shifted right to Krypton’s doorstep, swallowing even their sister galaxy only two and half million light years away.
_Ruby
“I can tell you the model has uncertainty,” Kara said quietly, wishing she could hug him. “I cannot tell you you’re wrong.”

_{"Last handshake complete. Krypton requests all ships return home... immediately."}

ᵀʰᵉ Last Avatar. & ᵀʰᵉ Red Lotus. Player Handbook

_{character concept by FiberC10}

Age. 25 Gender. Female Residence. Lower Ring Occupation. Day Laborer Element. Water Form. Water Level. • Chi. • ________________________________.....	. Who are you? Yukiko has a lot to say and not much of it is subtle or gentle. She will tell whoever wants to listen about her politics (an incoherent ideology dubbed Anarchro-Kuvirism), what people should be striving for (physical strength, inner toughness, self-reliance), if violence is an acceptable way to solve problems (almost always), what's wrong with technology (it makes people weak and passive), and what's wrong with modern society (same). If she has the chance she’ll talk about her theory that all of this will inevitably lead to either a long slide into oblivion as humans lose the ability to desire or accomplish anything unaided and no longer are worthy of being called human, or result in a massive and sudden outburst of violence that overturns everything. You can guess which one she wants. Though her thoughts are always restless, Yukiko's life is simple and dominated by repetitive cycles. She lives in a flop house in the lower ring that's built like a shoddy imitation of the capsule hotels found inside the inner rings; its minor miracle the place hasn't collapsed yet. All of her belongings fit into two large dufflebags, the only ones that would have any resale value are her phone and the old conventional pistol she keeps stashed away for self-defense. When there's jobs that pay well, or when rent is creeping up, she puts in long hours doing whatever needs doing around one of the endless construction sites in the lower ring. She doesn't have the skill for fine work, but she's strong and has the stamina to keep going, and that is enough. Nothing is ever finished being built, especially when so many are lost to poor construction or the RSF clearing out "unauthorized" buildings. When she has the time she trains martial arts with a crew of local toughs, they all get along well even if they have trouble finding a consistent gym. Whether she is working or training, she keeps at it until the sheer exhaustion stops her, going to be drenched in sweat every night, and relaxing by reading whatever bootleg literature is circulating around or listening to radio broadcasts full of anger and conspiracy theories. That's most of what there is to her routine, she doesn't venture far from her neighborhood, after her last stint in jail the RSF gave her an exhaustive list of conditions specifying everything from what areas she can travel through to the hours she has to stay off the streets. The RSF might be understaffed in the lower ring but she would prefer not to play the odds by getting lost in an unfamiliar part of town and having a pack of them corner her. For all of Yukiko's bluster and confidence, there are many things she prefers not to discuss. If someone prods her she'll tell them that she grew up in Jiulong, a neighborhood in the lower ring that used to be where descendants of war refugees lived before a bit of "urban renewal" came to it. Sometimes she'll mention that she hasn't seen her family in a while or that she has a criminal record; those are other things that she doesn't want to dig into. What Yukiko buries deepest, underneath the anger, the striving for power, the judgment and the proud exterior is fear, the ever encroaching feeling that the world is ruled by uncaring, irresistible forces that will grind her into dust the same way they have countless others. What is your opinion on Benders? In Yukiko’s mind, there were great benders in the past, people who shaped history; yet when the world saw their power they choose the wrong response. They treated as if they were gods or saviors; that is the road to stagnation, passivity, and slow decay. Instead of being inspired to emulate them, to sharpen oneself in hopes of being able to challenge them, they chose the path of awe and blind obedience. Non-benders lived in a sleepwalking state, going through the motions of life while trusting that the benders would tell them what to do, what to think, and take care of all the difficult problems in life. The Benders themselves grew self-assured, forgetting their own struggle and getting distracted by philosophical navel-gazing and robotic repetitions of the same motions. The panic was the result of weak minds, people so terrified of self-reliance and self-discovery that they would burn the world down in search of the Avatar before they would be willing to stand on their own two feet. As benders have disappeared, humanity has come to rely on an even more pernicious evil: high technology. Technology has supplanted benders because it has been better at coddling humankind, everyday these artificial gods are entrusted with more and more of the responsibilities of the human race. Although Yukiko hates the new order, she does not long for a return to the old one either, she dreams of something better: a time when every person, bender or non-bender can realize their own potential and fight their own battles instead of outsourcing them to someone or something they see as above them. Yukiko is uninterested in the teachings of the benders, their spirituality, their ways of training, but she does see value in learning from the biographical details of them. If someone succeeded in carving their name into history, their life is worthy of study and emulation, regardless of if they were a Bender or not. ____________________________________________________________________	. Ah Jong. 35 year old labor representative and low-level triad leader. Ah is guy you see in the neighborhood if you need to get something done. His biggest business is making sure construction work goes smoothly, and he has the right combination of friendships, bribes, and people willing to throw down in a street fight to make that happen. Yukiko connected with him during her stint in prison. On paper he’s an Earth Kingdom restorationist like the rest of his gang, but really he just cares about making money off his construction and Pai Sho rackets. Although she dislikes his politics, Yukiko admits he’s easy to talk to and a man of his word. He helps her find work, and she’s happy to do odd jobs for him, over the years they’ve developed a sort of brother and sister relationship. _________________________________........

ᵀʰᵉ Last Avatar. & ᵀʰᵉ Red Lotus. Player Handbook

_{character concept by MoleC10}

Age. 34 Gender. Male Residence. Upper Ring Occupation. Ba Sing Se Botanical Garden Master Element. Earth Form. Earth Level. • Chi. • ________________________________.....	. Who are you? I reside among the few elite who are able to beautify Ba Sing Se. The job is resolute in finding beauty in even the hardest of places to reach – the Lower Ring. Beauty is not just outward expression, but an internal sense of artistry that must be lived and learned, if you will. It is a healing element that offers relief from pain. With this knowledge, I cultivate an experience of harmonic beauty in the Gardens of Ba Sing Se, which includes the Crystal Tea Garden, Firelight Arboretum, and the Conservatory of Flowers. (The community extends its design to the Middle and Lower Rings during times of celebration.) My interest in botany began at an early age. Perhaps, the fascination was something nurtured in me before I was born. My mother enjoyed floral arrangement, having her own floral shop within my father’s specialized boutique of marquetry items. Together, they created the exclusive exposure to natural and refreshing home designs – The Jade Tortoise. The King’s servants were known to ask for custom designs from The Jade Tortoise; and clientele came from all over Ba Sing Se merely to have a small something to relish in their homes like the King did, treating them as good luck omens. If not because of the King and good luck, it was because of the unparalleled elegance their arrangements had on the senses. There’s not much more to say. I take great care in my etiquette with the Gardens of Ba Sing Se. I believe my work is my duty. The beauty of the Ba Sing Se reflects the order and intellect of the Kingdom. I make divine work that praises and balances this harmonious system. As the seasons change, my work cycles through the macrocosm, allowing Ba Sing Se to be its own center of definitive virtuous. Everything is as planned. What is your opinion on Benders? I haven’t thought so much about them. My expertise is botany. I’m a botanist, not an advisor of the King. From my understanding, they favor an unpopular opinion. However, I happen to think if I ever did meet one, how he or she treated me and those around him or her would be a direct link to my opinion. I can’t say I can classify a whole class of people by one, though… ____________________________________________________________________	. Emma Li. Toma’s childhood next-door neighbor and love of his life. Their relationship is speculative, however. She currently works in The Jade Tortoise, apprenticing under Toma’s mother. _________________________________........