Lugubrious

A New World of Gods Chapter 2, The Rise of new Civilizations

Ey, you all aren't quite done with the previous chapter just yet, are you?

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

Don't think you lot are done just yet! One final challenge, one that will take a toll, awaits before everything is sunshine and daisies...you didn't think your sins would just be forgotten, would you?

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

@cuccoruler@Ace of flames01@rechonq@Slendy@OtomostheCrazy

The earthen shrine chamber, so deep beneath the surface as to make the sun a distant dream, became suddenly bathed in light. It poured from gaping holes in the musty air, leaking in through the shredded fabric of reality. Within this luminosity, strange shapes could be dimly spied, amorphous and in lethargic motion. Only one figure could be definitively spotted as it trundled ever closer with its branchlike fingers extended, but even after its twisted mockery of a human leg breached the rift no being present could identify it. One or two, spurred on by the pandemic madness of the end times, might recall a similarly grotesque shape flitting in and out of memory, a glowing outline never willfully subjected to further examination. When this shambling thing set foot in the earthen chamber, however, none could shake a certain dread—the dread of an audience with a superior entity.

Aforgomon stood before them, and cracked open its mangled shark jaw. Within its gullet a miasma of darkness whirled and span, its shadowy contortions uniquely reminiscent of the god of nightmares, whom no god had seen for a month or more. Infants. Always were you blind, yet never have you stumbled so. In your infinite ignorance, do you misunderstand the notion of godhood? Only small fractions of humanity rise against you, but you judge every human guilty, and shed bitter tears of hypocrisy. Any god who did not expressly oppose the apocalypse knew that they were accused. They are more worthy than you—you infants who presume divinity. What have you ever accomplished? And with a sob and a flick of the wrist, you immolate an entire history. Such naivety is not Great. Aforgomon raised its hands, spindly fingers dancing. Black phantasms circled its body. From the myriad tears of light, more shapes could be seen advancing. A clean slate is necessary, after all. But it is yours. Come, you infant gods. Witness Greatness.

From the tears of light, the old gods emerged. Poseidon, Artemis, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Athena, Ah Muzen Cab, Cabrakan, Xing Tian, Guan Yu, and several more. Having been banished to world of the Great One’s choosing, they appeared changed. Neither puppeted nor enraged, they seemed simply grim, and emanated murderous intent. They surrounded the Merged like ruinous sentinels, and above them Aforgomon towered as it strode toward Cia. The shambler’s ungainly walk turned into a maniacal run, its body became swathed in paralyzing nightmares, and it reached out for Cia to pull her to pieces.

At the same time, rifts of light suffused the Nexus, and the home of Leon and Rhona. From those tears, too, marched Aforgomon and an entourage of the elder gods. Serqet, Bast, Ptah, Thoth, Sehkmet, Freya, Tyr, Ullr, Sol, and Heimdal stood by its side. Evidently, during the past month, the dimensional shamble had not only consumed Thalios and taken his power, but prowled the entire array of dimensions for the souls of the fallen gods and alternate versions of itself. This version looked oddly amphibious, with mottled brown hide immune to physical attack and a gaping froglike mouth from which another face leered. Most of the Egyptian gods attacked Reese at once, lambasting him with deadly poison, monstrous cats, and accursed books. Ptah, a creator god, willed meteors into existence to rain down on the so-called destruction god. The majority of the Norse gods, meanwhile, attacked Yuki. Sol burned with the heat of the sun against her, not only threatening the dancer with waves of consuming fire but also empowering the arrows of Ullr and the great blades of Heimdal and Tyr. Freya and Sehkmet, meanwhile, as the war goddesses of their respective pantheons, combined their incredible power to take down Landon. Living, hateful blood whirled around him like a maelstrom, and blasts of light rained from above. With their respective runic sword and bloody hatchet, the goddesses converged on him.

Meanwhile, the amphibious Aforgomon walked toward the house of Leon. Your violation will not be hidden. It stands like a city on a hill. From between the planes great tentacles reached out and encircled the home, swaddling it completely with the intent of crushing its seal and all that lay beneath with their weight.

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

Oh my! Don't worry in chapter 2 you can create your own civilizations!

@Cuccoruler

You may have gotten the wrong idea about Aforgomon. Great Ones don't create.

Unfortunately, I can't work on a post right now. My favorite streamer just started streaming Dong Dong Never Die. It's a special occassion.

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

The humans? Aforgomon needs those.

If extreme things are happening, prepare for them to get extremer.

In Hunting Beasts and Monsters

Maria’s frustration seeped visibly out from behind her mask of condescending nonchalance, and Highball confirmed her choice to be the right one. As far as she cared, the snooty, oh-so-pretty tough lady could stuff it. If ever a character existed that Highball could bet money on becoming an antagonist later, the psycho mannequin here was it. Ignoring her, she turned her attention toward the scuffle’s end. The last of the dog-men fell, fingers clawing at the air while it whined horribly, but the woman whom they captured did not appear to be enthralled that her kidnappers lay dead. Instead, she dealt a vicious slap to the nearest man she could find before breaking down into raving insanity, stumbling this way and that as she enumerated her sins. Highball watched, her eyebrows betraying her macabre wonderment, while the woman edged closer to the well upon which she sat. An awful scheme stole into her mind, and the woman ended her own life by plummeting into the well. Surprised by the act and disturbed by the ensuing sounds, Highball shuddered, and deeming her position of derision to no longer be appropriate, she slid off the well-cover and onto her own feet. Her stomach would not permit her to follow her impulse to peer down the well and see if the poor wretch lived still.

Nobody could consider the extravagant suicide for long, however, for from the coddling dark strode a dubious gentleman, his dapper if solemn appearance a far cry from the deplorable destitution and dinginess that seemed so prevalent to Iredele so far. His greeting managed to instantly turn Highball’s opinion against him; she did not appreciate implication in events she purposefully abstained from. Still, a choice few of his words piqued her interest, namely those implications that the town lay embroiled in a dark and sinister plot, and that forces beyond human control or comprehension withheld their ignoble wrath from Iredele only for the sake of these ‘rituals’. While this intrigued her, she couldn’t say that it surprised her without lying; ever since the Church of the Absolute’s first mention, the notion of some insidious nightmare cult lay fresh on Highball’s mind.

These ponderings made Highball want to ask this man questions, but she instantly rebuked herself for that consideration. After all, several of the other dream-people had already pegged themselves as prime question-askers. It all slotted in very nicely with Highball’s conception of the World of Wasted Dreams as a game, for what kind of game eschewed exposition? Sure enough, Donny and Kenji spoke up, while the white-haired brute opted to punch the mayor –surprise, surprise!- and bellow out his criticisms. A moment later a new arrival, the strapping young man that she’d seen loitering in the church, vented his questions too. Only too happy to keep herself out of swinging range, Highball paced leisurely around the rough perimeter set up around the mayor by the new hunters, arriving back at the well just as Maria and Spencer began to talk. For once Highball listened intently, guessing that Spencer at least might offer some sort of task. His joke made her smile, but his mention of danger lurking at Paraanon Ravine thrilled her. Now that a task of both worth and peril lay out in the open, the raven-haired woman knew precisely what to do next.

Before she finished smiling, however, the spearman from before sidled up to her. Guessing that he might be wanting to cooperate with her, Highball heard him out, but felt distinctly disappointed to hear no mention of the word ‘Paraanon’ in his request. Furthermore, he asked of her the dog head that lay, congealing, near her feet. His tone reminded her distinctly of a child asking for the last piece of food. Highball, sensing a distinct chance to snark, tried to think of some way to communicate his foolishness. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind—meaning she couldn’t keep her silence any longer. “This scrap?” she whispered, poking the offensive object with her cane. “No self-worth, eh?” Crossing her arms, she continued, her lips barely moving. “If you want to waste, by all means, investigate. The game is on. Paraanon is the place to be.” She indicated with her cane the direction that Spencer pointed them, impatiently tapping her foot all the while, signaling that if Kenji wanted to be doing something worthwhile, they should depart before everyone else jumped on the bandwagon.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Fleo Plector – Phoenix Wing Hotel

@Burthstone@Zarkun

Always striving to be a kindred spirit, Fleo found empathy to be a fruitless calling once in a while, but for the most part the ability to connect with her fellow man fulfilled her, making her feel as if she were truly living life to the fullest. Following the urges of her guiding light did not always appear to be so easy, but loving her neighbor just as herself always struck Fleo as doable. Her heart hurt, then, when the trembling star before her burned against her. Luna’s accusatory tirade paralyzed her, slapping the dusty woman with a baneful tone even if her words held no true venom. When Luna advanced, Fleo retreated, appalled that someone might think her a threat. It just didn’t compute—how could a woman of dust, so joyous just to be out in the world and experiencing what it had to offer be so cruel? What had she done to deserve these charges?

The idea suffused her, though, that Luna did not blame her specifically. She saw herself at odds with Phoenix Wing, though Fleo couldn’t rightly say that what flowed from Luna now was hatred. If anything the sorceress appeared perilously close to despair; this deep, dark rut Fleo knew all too well. Despite feeling attacked, then, she remained quiet, and listened with a tragically upset face to the indictments of Iron Enigma. As she heard the names, Fleo tried to connect them to faces, succeeding only with Deyja and Mark, who represented their guild in the Games. For the first time she felt truly dubious about Iron Enigma, imagining from Luna’s description that hers was a legitimate Dark Guild. When Luna finished, the dusty woman could think of nothing to say. How do I help this…?

Her hesitation allowed Damian and Penny to step in instead. They both attempted to tell her how wrong her guild was, neither quite comprehending the psychological struggle afflicting her. Assertions about Amelia’s nature occupied more of their attention than attempts to sympathize. Fleo proved, however, too slow to come to poor Luna’s aid, and before she could think of anything that might help, other Phoenix Wingers had piled into the hotel and the lone Iron Enigma mage had disappeared onto the street. Feeling like a failure, Fleo withdrew back to her table to sit in silence and think.

Jillian Suede – Frenzy Camp Center

@Caits

The smile on Jillian’s face eroded like a river’s rock to witness Gabriel’s display. From his reluctance she expected no special grace or fluidity to his movements, but the boy’s behavior went beyond untalented to appear ludicrous and phony. It did not seem possible that anyone could be so completely deaf to perfectly good music as to underperform this drastically. Though by no means a gift of Jillian’s, dancing was something with which she held a comfortable familiarity, and even unskilled dancers at least resonated with something by accident. As she watched it became increasingly obvious that the boy was neither merely untalented or not trying; he was purposefully trying to do badly, in as blatant a manner as possible.

Robbed of her enthusiasm and crestfallen, Jillian frowned. Why would he mock her like this? His behavior over the months since his arrival at the guild indicated completely that he preferred being alone. Never did he attempt to socialize with the others, or go out of the way to assist them or being around them. Thinking this to be shyness, a kind of recalcitrance coming from a lack of opportunity, Jillian had been pleased to extend her hand and help him. Now, she watched him throw it in her face, making fun of her with this exaggerated, purposeful show and asserting her mistake in trying to prod him into camaraderie.

A few moments later, he appeared next to her. Resolving not to let his jibe get to her, Jillian smiled. ”Nobody gets it on their first try, hon. Just do whatcha feel like; I’m not gonna push ya. G’night.” Turning around, the elegant soldier waddled off toward the sleeping tents, most likely to turn in for the night.

Cecilia Lenin – Frenzy Camp

@Raijinslayer

At the sound of a cough, Cecilia didn’t immediately turn away from her book, only realizing after a couple of seconds that someone had made a bid for her attention. Clapping the book shut, the young knight turned her attention to Argus, blinking a few times to focus. Immediately it became somewhat obvious, despite her courteous attempt to hide it, that she did not feel completely at ease.

”Wasn’t it Beardo that helped you into the guild? Anyway, I am happy to see that you’re feeling better, and that you think you’ve made a good choice. I am not one for dancing. My mother’s serious manner is my own. My apologies.” A strange look passed her face. No shame or doubt should have prickled her for a refusal well within her right to make, but the plaintive expression on the demon’s face made her feel guilty for wanting, unequivocally, to be without his presence. ”Come morning, however, I can have coffee with you, if you wish.” Cecilia’s face did not lend itself well to smiling, its contours more accustomed to businesslike neutrality or a cynical frown. All the same, she made it apparent that she did not wish to alienate the repentant demon Argus.

Kumbha Yatta – Frenzy Camp

@hatakekuro

A hearty laugh rang out as the various Frenzy Plant members, previously occupied with the tossing of Dalton like a hot potato, dispersed to attend to other little celebrations. Smirking widely, a big-chinned man moved between Enma and Dalton to clap both Oni and Exceed on the back. However awkward the maneuver owing to the participants’ vastly disparate heights, Kumbha’s enthusiasm shone through it all. ”What a game, catch with a cat! A hundred thanks to you, my little purple friend. I am truly astonished that you agreed to such a rough sport! You are made of tough stuff.” He reached out for the nearest table and took a mug of beer that most certainly wasn’t his. Straightening himself up, he quaffed the foaming brew in a few gulps, savoring the flavor as he wondered how Enma could down an entire keg. The sight of Dalton coaxing a pompadour from his grape-colored fur only gave rise to further questions. ”You, sirs, are strange ones, but any man or beast who can get hype is a comrade of mine. I know you well, Enma, but you, cat, I know not at all. Tell me: who are you and from where do you hail?” Kumbha seated himself on a stool and cupped his great chin in a hand, intrigued.

Nero the Genie – Shunji Aki Restaurant

@liferusher@oblivion666@lmpkio

Nero held his arm across Ayame’s shoulders, deadpan, while steely Malice made a scene. He watched her weep and moan, slowly moving his arm upward like a snake getting ready to pounce. Ignoring Sayatachi’s compliment, he snapped his fingers, and a new eyepatch appeared on Malice’s face. This one was a purple ribbon, tight enough to not be lost but comfortable on her skin, and the patch appeared to be raven-black, with a gleaming golden eye of silk stitched where her eye might be. ”Jeez, way to get worked up. Didn’t I say I was good with clothes? Not even a minute ago.”

He followed the others in, swaggering through the high-class restaurant as if he owned the place. The place’s breathtaking ornamentation captured his imagination, firing him up for the design of garments fit for an eastern lord. His mischievousness did not fall by the wayside, however, and as the group seated themselves Nero held up a finger and twirled it around. On the heads of Malice, Sayatachi, and Ayame appeared goofy propeller caps. The Genie’s ensuing giggles lasted until the waiter arrived, after which he whipped open his menu and selected the first thing that looked good, paying no mind to the price. ”A fruit soda and a Sevenese Pocket, please.” Crossing his arms, Nero waited for the others to order.

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

Ch2 will be significantly slower paced. but I understand why you are both leaving.

@Lugubrious@Zelosse

@Cuccoruler

I've not committed to going yet. Just thinking about it. I'm not the type to just vanish instantly.

A New World of Gods (closed go to chapter 2)

I've half a mind to go myself. The progression in this RP is really jolting for me.

RWBY - Only the "Finest"

Echo Marine, Tawne Adagio

Tawne witnessed with nonplussed disinterest the immodest and earnest contest emerging between Victoria and Daelon, her opposition of his objection an amalgamation of cruelty and camaraderie. Only a few moments later, the opposing entourage elected to exit, even as a gray-haired grouch seated himself nearby over a bowl of noodles to leer, seething, in the students’ general direction. Distracted for the moment from DEVL, Tawne cast a brief, unfazed look Silme’s way, finding that whatever surliness that excused such a milk-curdling grimace did not appear to be directed his way. Incorrectly assuming him to be an everyday idiot, Tawne finished his udon and stood up from the noodle stand just in time to see his brother-in-arms arriving.

He saluted Albus, saying ”Hi-de-ho. You know, you just missed meeting –in person!- the future champion team of the Vytal Festival. They were true winners, the stuff of legend! No doubt you will regret this momentous occasion for years to come. Hey, want to go try the festival games?” He turned partially around toward Burgundy, squinting in the manner of the esteemed philosopher. ”Might be just us, though. Berg’s won’t be done bloating for another hour or so.”

Slurping down the last of her soba, Echo span around on her stool and stood up. ”Not so fast. I’m up for a game or two before we get down to business.” She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before crossing her arms. She only managed a single step forward, however, before a little TV screen hanging in the back of the noodle stand switched from boring news to a live feed from the stadium box. Both Echo and Tawne turned around to listen, the professors onscreen unfamiliar to them. When Oobleck mentioned a change in rules and Port began to explain, all of team BEAT froze. The only sound coming from any one of them was a thin stream of air from Tawne, hissed through his teeth: ’ffffffffffffff-

Halfway through the explanation, he burst. ”Fiddle! Sticks! What!? Who thought of this? We can’t do our super-special-secret-plan anymore!” He trailed off, however, when Professor Cross appeared on the screen. His expression changed instantly at the sight of a mature woman with an intriguing sense of style. Frowning comically with his eyebrows up, he waited patiently for her to finish before turning to his teammates. Theatrically rubbing his hands together, he remarked, ”I really must say, I’ve never seen a whale that’s such a fox! I might not mind bein’ knocked dead by a daughter of hers.”

Echo’s eyes nearly crossed in exasperation. ”You’re a real dolt. It’s even dumber since I know you’re not serious. I hope ya do get into the second round—I’ll have a real excuse to whoop ya myself.” She began to walk, leaving the noodle stand behind, and Tawne strode alongside her. ”D’you think that announcement means the fights are about to start?” Her teammate shook his head. A minute later she found herself steered toward an orange minigame tent, where the task appeared to be to hit a slowly-moving target with a baseball. The obvious ploy on Tawne’s part earned him a sour look, but the boy appeared unabashed as he lined up his shot. A moment later, the ball sailed from his fingertips, headed straight for the target’s bullseye. Before it hit, however, it curved upward and soundly missed, bouncing off the backboard. Tawne pretended to be upset. ”Impossibru! I was dead-on! How rigged can ya get?” Echo punched his arm as they left, while the confused and irked gamemaster replayed in his head the physically impossible shot. ”Show-off.”” Grinning, Tawne held his arms behind his back, and the two trekked on, discussing what could be done to make up for the now-unusable super-secret-plan.