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Location: Central Square -> Granny Mildred’s House
Mission: Missing Cats

“It’s alright,” Robert nodded, putting his hand back to his pocket before shifting his attention toward the lady, who is staring at him intently. And although it is not his first time being this close with the opposite sex this, somehow, Robert just realizes how red his face currently is. He could feel the droplets that is slowly making its way toward his chin and neck. The index of the right hand shake vehemently in short burst with the rhythm of drunken heart. But moreover, he could feel the blushes slowly spreading from both of his cheeks toward the rear ends of the ears before making its way toward his scalp.

Fixing his attire so that he could enjoy the warmth that the trench coat providing against this strange storm, Robert flashes a smile toward the girl, who is looking at him quite intently.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rebecca. Now, although I would love to have a chat with you, I would rather do it somewhere that is more cozy and warmer than here, don’t you think?” Robert said, motioning her to follow Harry, who has made quite a distant and about to be lost in the crowd that is hurrying to make their ways home.
@Fallenreaper@Raptra Do you guy still want to interact or just jump straight into the mission. I could wrap it up if you want or one of us could do it.

It was only after Perillian mentioned about the newer god that Amp noticed about the flying blob of flesh and tendrils in the room. Sinister spikes carry an ominous sense around its tips, while tendrils flopped and coiled in multiple directions. Unknown liquid gushed out from its maw as it held some kind of clarinet close to its body.

How peculiar, Amp thought as her interest was piqued by the instrument the monstrous owner. For as long as she has existed, Amp have never seen any gods that are born with an instrument like her. This kindled a small flame of familiarity in her imaginary heart as she began to assume the unknown god to be a servant of someone else. Gossiping about their masters, drinking tea under the Scarlet Moon, or just having fun torturing people,... Oh, Amp can't wait until the next party. Talking about parties, how long has it been since the last time she held a party of her own in her domain? For she can’t really tell…

Having lost in her own thought, Amp’s body freeze in mid-motion, her minor appearances dangled between the joints like a ragged doll. The smog that is streaming forth from her core painted the surrounding air with the color similar to the mustard gas, a color of forgotten horror and pain from the previous cycles. They swim in the palace of the god, lurking and occupying every nook and crack with their obnoxious smell of rotten eggs and spoiled meat before embedded themselves within the walls. The blank nature of the walls is gradually replacing by the lemon color of the mist, diminishing the holiness vibe the Palace gives, while giving in abundance a sense of abandonment and ruination of some forgotten pantheons in past cycles.

Thankfully, it seems Amp was able to snap out in time. Her smog is still containable, not causing too much problem for Perillian to scold at her for her lack of concentration. Comfortably situated herself on the leather swivel chair, her throne, Amp lets out a half joked remark toward Legio.

“Oh, yes. Tell me, what atrocities would you committed to your pets to ratify your own belief now? Please don’t go about crusading again. We done it last time already, and I am quite bored with that scenario." Amp said with her nonchalant voice, almost dazed in her thoughts as her finger circling at Ualla’s portal, feeling the lively vibe his domain is giving out. On the other side, the leaves rustle, dance to faint breeze of what could be assumed as early spring.

From: The World Unravelled
Status: Still rolling

“Awake”, a term referring to the state where no sleep is presented. Such a useful term to describe her state of mind. For according to such term, Amp has been “awake” for a while now.

Maybe it was during Perillian’s awakening that Amp has regained her consciousness, Amp thought as she felt bones cracking after centuries long. The joints, which have been gathering dust, move for its first time since the rebirth of the world. Sand and dirt rolled down from the clarinet, whose length seems to be longer than the longest mountain range. Bones twitched and fog moved as the giant skeletal stirred, slowly pulling its feet from the ground beneath. From her chest, streams of sulfurous smog ushers, filling the area with its musty smell. The area was littered with glass statues, sculpted after various beings, both monstrous and humanoids. But they didn't last long before shattered and reduced to nothing more but fine dust, floating in the first dawn’s light. Some of them were heroes, who seek to maintain an endless day by challenging her. Some were her followers, gullible, sweet, and adorable in their own ways. And some were just things that she had special bonds with. Lovers. Friends. Enemies. What are their names? What are their stories? For what reasons do they seek shelter from the Nihilist? It doesn’t matter now. They are all dust. Their stories have gone. Their information, gone. And the statue, the only things that reminded them, gone to the shockwave from her feet, sending to somewhere on this world. But it doesn’t matter, she could hardly remember a single one of them.

One after another, the explosion of concepts and meanings came to life. One after another, a new beginning is about to start. One after another, the clock of twelve is about to move its second hand. But with every beginning, there needs to be an end to all things. Take the example of a raindrop. From the moment it decided to leave the cloud, it has already determined its death by its birth. And the moment it becomes one with the muddy puddle beneath, it has died. And at that moment, in that steady of regression from order to chaos, from pure to corrupt, from complex to simple, Amp called her moment. And the universe is no less than the raindrop that falls from the sky during a downpour. It started with explosions like this, sometimes with more or less force, and ended with her clarinet’s sound.

How tragic? To be a musician for her own death? Nah, Amp’s doesn’t mind. She barely even remembers how she died nor what notes and song she decided to play for the funerals. To her, the cycle is nothing more than a day. When she awoke, she plays. And when she tired, she returned to her sleep. The concept of death doesn’t hold any weight to this skeletal giant, who is casually walking toward the gods gathering. After all, she was in no rush. Behind her, pools of smog filled her footsteps before gradually connecting to each other, combining to be something greater than themselves. Soon, this mountain range’s name will be treated as the sacred land for the mad and the broken, to be forever guarded but never welcomed. Maybe the Nihilist would invite them to stay like what she used to in the previous cycle, but that is another concern for the future Amp to make.


Some bones to act as the basic foundation. Fewer developed muscles compared to its opposite gender. Skin to attract both genders of the same species. Eyes to see the world. Mouth to savoring foods. Ears to hear the melodies of happiness, both mortal and her… With her minor appearances slowly come to finish, Amp’s destination is near.

With the images of other gods begin to arise from the horizon lines, a small sense of familiarity and alienation begins to arise in her, only to be swipe clean with her nonchalant nature. Legio and his shiny armor always held a grudge against Amp due to her playstyle. Ualla and his constant ranting. Perillian, cool woman. Make toys, doesn’t talk that much about how she played. Thumbs up in Amp's book. But among familiar faces, there is also the absence of some important figures, mainly Orgalong and Sandrimor. She felt a little bit sad, a little bit lost. And that is it. The olds need to move for the new to come.

Twirling the brass clarinet in hands, Amp nods softly to her kinds before giving a slight bow to the empty throne, showing her utmost respect for the next in line. The Prince of Chaos had carefully instructed her to observe from the distant, only meddling in this mess if the situation calls for. As such, she would refrain herself from mixing her in this conflict. Besides, what does that throne have that she doesn’t own yet?

“Nah, that throne is just a symbol. It held no true significant but a glorified title,” Amp said, brushing off Legio’s remark on the importance of the King before approaching Nyrae to ask for the latest attires for her minor appearances. After all, this one still needs some clothes. That or the minor appearance would need to grow a layer of fur and fat.
Probably have mine done today or tomorrow


Location: Central Square
Mission: Missing Cats

A complete mess. That is the perfect term to describe how Robert’s appearance. What started out as a sip grew into two. Then from two, it got to four. And from four to half a bottle… While he is still able to work, his breath stenches with alcohol and his cheeks turn red from knocking a whole bottle in such a short time. His eyes become bloated red, as if he on the verge of killing someone he sees on the road. The finely combed hair returns to its natural state, just like all things in life, of chaos and disarray. And no matter how hard Robert tries, something like a feral growl was coming from his mouth. He knew he should not have a drink before work, especially drinking a whole vial of whiskey in such a short duration. His friends had warned him. The pub owner had also discussed with him out of concern and friendliness. And he didn’t listen.

Forcing a soft growl in his throat, almost inseparable from the footsteps of others, Robert smiled bitterly as he reaches the Central Square. It wasn’t hard to find a particular nervous male and a flamboyant person in this gloomy city. If he was still able to talk, Robert wouldn’t mind rushing over there and welcoming them with a crushing handshake. But now? Why can’t they be a little bit more gloomy so he could use the excuse that he didn’t notice them?

After making some hesitation on how to greet them, Robert just decided to go with what he knew best. And if he can’t speak for the next week or so, he knows who to blame. Himself. Just like her.

“ Hello. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. The name is Robert. Robert Ackerson to be precise. And you are?” Robert smiles, trying to keep his voice as natural as possible despite how stressful it is on his vocal chord. A handshake offered to both, showing his friendliness and the hope to successfully cooperate on this first mission.
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