Mikael

Essence of the World

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Essence of the World

I have a placeholder in the IC. I rarely do that, but just couldn't finish my post for Ioi tonight due to IRL. Any case, I promise that it will be good and actually engage nearly everyone. I should have it up soon. =)

Essence of the World

THE EMPTY LORD

IoI watched calmly as Lucien came closer to his location--not by the relation between oculars and light, but through the harmony (or lack thereof) of the original angel's actions; Especially against the demons and angels whose perishing bodies released their souls. Normally, the Empty Lord would have intervened with such affairs, as his faithful followers had said 'no original lives must be lost.' That was then, as now the transcendent being knew exactly where these slain creations were going.

Lucien approached on the dilapidated Red Square, the space between him and this 'unknown obstacle' only measuring up a few yards. By now, the Empty Lord's dark, smoky wisps numbered just shy of a hundred and had begun to wander farther and farther away, in circular semi-random paths. Additionally, light and shadow in the area were having an awfully hard time working, but visibility and hiding was still somewhat possible. Not that the original angel would have any need for subterfuge, now would he? Ioi certainly didn't have any need for stealth.

There was no pretense here, just sheer desire manifested in their forms of people, but then... Ioi spoke.

The tone, gentle but firm, was evident. His raspy, lingering voice knew no equal in presentation, as well, for every person in Loom would hear it. Perfectly. All other aural sources temporarily muted as he spoke to the original angel. Indeed, no barrier, be it physical, language, or dumb understanding, stopped Ioi from addressing every element in his plan. He spoke to the innermost core of a person's essence, bypassing all mental safeguards and defenses. Additionally, knowledge was imputed to all listeners: the name, that is, eye-oh-eye, IoI, the Empty Lord, who knew them, and the understanding of what Lucien was saying to him.

Repeating, everyone would hear what Ioi said to Lucien and why.

"What you already believe," he warned everyone, pausing deliberately, "will determine what you shall believe next."

His face lowered slightly, his pupil-less, purple eyes examining the blade before looking back up at Lucien. "I will not, although I have no intention to wield it," Ioi declared, hinting that he would only give the sword to someone who meets his standards for worthiness.

"More shall come judging," he added, lowering the sword so that its tip tapped the ground, and he spoke no more.

Ioi's attention to Lucien then shifted, as though someone unseen was talking to him. A very subtle nod and dimming of his eyes confirmed some request. Without further cue, several blue, semi-transparent rectangles, full of multiplying cubes, appeared on the Empty Lord's left side--the strange manifestations faded, leaving their passengers on the ground, all of their eyes closed that then opened in sync. The lot consisted of a short, bearded old man, a tall spiffy gentleman with a top hat, two lovely ladies in elegant dresses (one more extravagant than the other), and a single petite girl with a strange 'gray' composition, spiky hair, and eerie stare. All, save for the gray girl, turned toward Ioi, bidding him thanks--one of the ladies even squeezed his hand. Then they all departed from the Red Square by various means: running with demonic swiftness, empowered jumping and parkour, and then the old man just simply meandered out of sight, sipping some delightful tea.

The gray girl, known as the Reclaimer, gave Lucien one interested look before blinking and turning her gaze skywards. Wingless, her body flew straight up into the sky above the Red Square, leaving Ioi seemingly alone. But he was not. Kneeling behind him, an unseen being stretched her long, soft white wings outwards past Ioi's sides. Then standing, her wings docked as she brushed a strand of chestnut hair over her ear and came to Ioi's left side. He glanced at her, seeing her body trembling as her dour demeanor fought her will to lift her eyes. But she finally did, looking on the other original angel before her, Lucien. She swallowed, shuddering as she took another step forward as her lord watched her.

"Lucien... y-you are alive," she breathed, clasping her shaky hands together in front of her.

She stopped, a mere 10 feet from Lucien. "It's me... Ilana. Do you remember?" she asked him with bemusement, and a bit of excitement.

---

A closet door opened, and out stepped Poe Medeth Kasteny, former CEO. Behind him, nestling his arm like a lady, was a strangely familiar woman who resembmled Hazumi and Aeris. Of course, only one person here would realize that. Glancing up at her taller escort, the woman let go of Poe and slowly came up to Mairyell, putting a hand on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes. The top-hatted demon went into the other room to meet up with Julian and Mary.

"Oh, my son..." she whispered, joy and fear twisted together in her throat.

Tears welled up as she put her other hand on him. They rolled down as she blinked, looking him up and down at how he had grown since he was a child. She was certainly impressed, albeit she could sense the taint in him that once plagued her, leading her to her 'death'...

"You've changed so much, Mai," she cooed sweetly, then chuckling nervously as she attempted to caress his cheek.

Plot, meet twist: Layna Grace Kasio, mother of two.

Elsewhere in the house, Poe reached the last step and sighed. Carefully moving about, he deduced where Mary and Julian were, their heartbeats a nearly muted sound in the background. Entering the doorway, the usually jovial Poe's face tugged downwards, somber and remorseful, as his stoic gaze fell upon Mary and Julian. He took off his huge top hat.

"You lot ought to leave Loom soon. If transportation is required, well, it's only a doorknob away," Poe explained, tapping the door's knob, "I would take you two anywhere you'd like that has a door, yes, any structure in all the world."

"No charge," he added, almost humorously.

---

With the Vampire now gone to grab his friends and ready them for their escape, Solus pulled his keys out of his left coat pocket and moved towards his car, intent on finally meeting Szayeis for the first time, but as he did so, something changed. A massive explosion of pure essence rumbled in the distance, and even Solus with his terrible human senses could smell the purest, untainted essence his nostrils ever felt. But who could have such a clean and holy soul? And so much bottled in power that it would shatter the surroundings like that? Solus reminisced for a moment, emptily staring down at the keys in his hand. Sifting through the lore and knowledge that he studied over the years.

His eyes widened as the realization hit him like a bullet train. "The Archangels..." He mumbled out. He was excited, finally the corrupt Council was falling apart, but at the same time he was worried. Without the Council, and the Angels being humanity's 'Protectors', what chances of survival did mankind have now? To Solus, those chances were pretty fucking low.

He took another step towards his car, only to stop again as something else reverberated through his very essence. It was like a calling, a faint signal pulling him towards somewhere. He felt like he absolutely needed to be there, that it was his duty to be there... No. The Necromaster thought to himself as he pushed the feeling aside. For all he knew it could be another of Sir's mind tricks. Or perhaps an attempt at Solus' mind from another entity unknown to him.

Having had enough of loligagging about, he forced himself towards his vehicle of choice once more, opened the driver's side door and jumped in.

A good while after Solus Grim had hopped into his Mustang and drove out of Serenity Row, a low voice raped and pillaged its way through his skull. It was coming from from every angle. He glanced around the cockpit of his car, through the mirrors, and out the windows, and saw nothing. It wasn't addressed to him either, as it spoke of someone's worthiness, and seemed distant.

Grim was for the most part confused, unsure of what it all meant, and he wasn't even going to bother asking himself where it even came from.

But he had a moment to think it all over, a strange bluish manifestation rippled in the passenger seat where Rina once sat during the Battle of Thorpe. It vanished as soon as it had begun, and in its place Garnette, former demon, looked up at him. A serene visage and sated eyes captured her demeanor as she adjusted the lower ends of her dress. It felt good to see him again, and she was hoping when all was said and done, he'd let her be a memory.

Solus immediately drew his gun and pressed it against the demon's temple with supernatural speed. He didn't expect the unwanted visitor. It took him a moment to recognize her while both looking at her and back on the road ahead. "You... I didn't give you an invitation..." He growled out.

Her lips pouted lightly. "I'm sorry... it was either this, or surface-pin to the roof of your car... and you'd probably attack me just for that, wouldn't you, Solus?" she reasoned, looking away.

Solus let out a low groan of anger.

"That voice... was my master, whom I've told you about once," she whispered with a nod, "and he's returned. Actually sent me to you on errand. I've a message for Rina Genno..."

"From her uncle," she clarified, slightly squinting as she thought about the girl.

"Spill it!" The Chimera pressed the gun against the former Succubus' temple harder.

"Alright," she gasped, pulling away from the gun. Something had changed about Solus, but she couldn't pick up on it.

"Peskay Genno is one of us Iotans now and is quite safe and sound," she explained, "and this, he gave me this... paper."

Pulling a slip of paper out of her cleavage, she held it toward Solus.

He put a foot up on the steering wheel so he could keep the car straight, and grabbed the paper with his free hand. "Any sudden moves and I blow your head off." He holstered his gun and grabbed the wheel again to swerve past a fleeing family sedan. This was the last thing he needed tonight. A demon materializing in his car.

These two days have turned into a massive headache, he hasn't even slept and all sorts of shit has happened in a span of 36 hours, and now demons have invaded the city. But then again, this was just another Monday.

He opened the paper which read: 00 degrees 50 minutes North, 24 degrees 16 minutes East

"Coordinates?" Solus asked. "Where do they go?"

"Just a messenger, big guy," she sighed, shrugging. "Um, don't crash."

She gestured with her finger at a large semi truck with an empty flatbed pulling out in front of them about 20 yards away

Solus squeezed the paper into his hand and slammed his foot down on the gas. Garnette's ears would be filled with pain as the sound of metal grinding on metal surrounded her skull. The Necromaster managed to maneuver the vehicle under the flatbed of the Semi, wenging in between its wheels, its roof scratching against the bottom of the metal slab.

Suddenly he slammed the car to a stop 250 yards away from the truck him and his passenger just missed. He unholstered his weapon again and stated, "You sent your message, I believe we're finished here."

Bracing herself, Garnette sucked in air and hoped for the best. She could endure a lot of things, but that didn't mean she wanted pain. Not for her, or for anyone. A sigh of relief escaped her as they grinded to a halt. She turned her head as he spoke again, his weapon squarely aimed at her temple again. She sighed again, her shoulders slightly slumping.

"I w... was hoping to hang with you for a bit b-before I leave forever... for home," she explained, crestfallen in tone and her clearly saddened visage brought for him to bear.

Solus didn't care, and he didn't trust her either. "I don't give a damn about 'Hanging out'..." He growled out, bearing his teeth. "The city is going to shit, and last thing I need right now is some bitch distracting me with pointless horseshit." Garnette's passenger door clicked open. "So head 'home'."

She listened to him, every word he said sinking harder into her heart. She glanced at the open door, the pavement there wet with mud. But then glanced back at Solus, the barrel of his gun right over her left eye.

"If you don't want my help with anything, then so be it. Pull the trigger, Solus," she mumbled solemnly, "you've been wanting to do that ever since you've met me. So pull the trigger, it will be my last gift to you."

To help establish that, she pressed into the barrel until her eye started to feel plucked.

Solus kept the gun there for about there seconds, but instead of pulling the trigger, he said "PIR.". Suddenly it felt like the interior of the car exploded, and Garnette was flung out of the open door. It was just a harmless shockwave, she would be fine. Solus slammed the door shut before she had a chance to get back in again. And put the pedal to the metal, speeding away and leaving the demoness in his rear view mirror, quickly turning into a tiny dot in his vision.

"Fuck, I'm getting old." He said to himself. He hesitated back there, could have ended her just like that. But he didn't. Whether that was a mistake would be revealed in the future, but for now he had more pressing issues to worry about.

Laying there, in the mud... Garnette rubbed her face from top to bottom, her eyes glazed over with disappointment. She felt jaded by Solus. Sure she was a former demon, and sure he had no reason to trust her. Wouldn't do well for a demon hunter to trust a demon. She felt she'd just pick a bad time. She was not like Aulder who could speak so calmly so as to render even the most bloodthirsty barbarians into diplomancy. And then, when she had the last moment to give him something he'd always wanted: to kill her, he changed his mind.

"So he is a pussy," she mumbled, before looking up into the sky.

She saw the Reclaimer (the gray girl). Closing her eyes, she whispered that she was ready. Without a moment longer, a huge gold chain zipped down to Garnette, consuming her in a flash. Fully reclaimed, the chain disappeared and the Reclaimer kept her eye on the flying Szayeis in the distance.

---

"Szayeis... master of the game, indeed," stated a loud, well-trained voice somewhere ahead of the demon lord.

In the middle of the street amongst all the choas, a very calm and stoic Aulder stood, still wearing his simple robes and rustic sandals. His beard flapped gently in the wind as he looked up at Szayeis.

"I've come to call on Aeriqi, my lord," Aulder explained, his powerful voice, empowered by Ioi, reaching out to Szayeis's mind, and even the old one.

"May he come out to play?" the former Incarnate added, stroking his beard calmly as a few people ran past him terrified of Szayeis's all consuming nature.

Essence of the World

THE EMPTY LORD

He had heard the call, felt the penetrating invitation. But he'd been expecting it. For the longest time, this variable remained undefined in his plan, like a flickering fire at the end of a long road. And now it was coming to an end, forcing his hand to examine the triviality himself in lieu of sending ambassadors on his behalf. His followers, having been soothed and informed of the new changes, remained behind in that secret world that existed in between the Three Worlds' inhabitants' compositions. Even the one with the rictus grin who had betrayed him understood the wisdom of letting his lord handle this.

And handle it, Ioi most certainly would.

As a large semi-transparent blue rectangle multiplied itself in place and phased him onto the Surface, it was the first time since the Great War's beginning that Ioi, the Empty Lord of Maioi (a northeast region of Hell), breathed surface air. As he exhaled through his unseen mouth, dark purple smoke rose into the air, and joined into tiny little dark orbs that joined the rest hovering around him like wandering wisps. His form, though dark as slate and unclothed, actually warped the reality of the space he occupied. Light bent around him, barely able to bounce off of him and go into the eyes of those who may see him. Shadows were delved under the bending photons, the two elements merging into a purple smoky essence that seemed to breathe out hot air as it followed him. Dark crystal lattices, none no larger than a human palm, were embedded in Ioi's body and radiated not power, but insensible abstracts of information.

With purpose, he took a stride toward the Sword that had previously been Hazumi, a strange oddity of a person whose files filled an iota. Eight small slits on his face, glowing as though empowered eyes, bore down on the two-bladed instrument and its simplistic, unassuming European style. A strange symbol above his eyes vibrated lightly as Ioi assessed the secret details of its composition. It was as he expected from long ago: a gathering of the essence of these worlds. Again, it beckoned him -- anyone really -- to grasp its handle and change reality.

Which he had been doing all along, surely and slowly.

Less smoke escaped him as he stepped forward again, seemingly ignoring the situation around him but in fact had planned this window of opportunity--it bought him a couple minutes before anyone would notice. For his was not an aura of angel, human, or demon (though that had been his former nature)--as the Council who could not make sense of Chimeras, so would anyone else would struggle to sense Ioi. But once they were able to, they could no longer hide from him. Not that he was searching for them, as he had no need to--it was his way to be where he needed to be, and nowhere else ever at the wrong tick of time.

He seized the Sword, its almighty power trying to surge through him and beg him to embrace service of the world. Holding the blade tip skyward, his eyes dimmed in intensity as he realized how easily he could change the worlds. His wisps flitted around the blade, trails of smoke fading into light and shadow, and back again. He understood what this was for, in fact, the whole feeling was bittersweet.

He lowered the sword, disappointed.

The use of this instrument by him would unbalance the amount of hope and despair that he needed for his plans' fruition. There was no way he could proceed with this opportunity without obvious despair-causing changes. Although before, when he had been planning his return as a herald of an invasion of the Three Worlds, he would have gladly used this Sword. It would have been checkmate...

But Ioi, the Empty Lord, and the last of the Dovetail demons, knew better. It took a while, but he knew better, for when the truth assumed him, he realized a better way; a safer alternative to reality's inevitable subduing. Unfortunately, destroying the Sword was not a great idea and he knew that while it still existed, it would continually call to someone to wield the essence of the world, for better or for worse. He turned around, his window of opportunity fading down to its last few seconds before someone would notice him. His options were before him, and Ioi decided to wait. Simply wait. Nobody was going to destroy the Three Worlds, but he was not going to keep it for himself.

He did not need to: even now, his Iotan essence was communicating with the Sword... abstract to abstract.

His wisps, now forty in number, swirled around him flawlessly, from his three clawed feet to the top of his bald head. The Sword in his right hand, his left hand clenched and released, its dark purple claws trembling. Smoke quietly sifted out of his mouth again as he very patiently waited for those empowered variables to show themselves and solve the equation of this confrontation with him.

And normally, time and patience were beneath Ioi and never influenced how he acted, but he hoped things would hurry along; after all, he had a honeymoon to commence...

Essence of the World

When we start Season 2, are we going to start a new thread?

Essence of the World

Amidst the order and chaos of every endeavor, where the common sociopaths accomplished deeds chosen by the same method that suited their favorite tastes, there existed a scattered remnant across the Three Worlds. Chained by that which sought fate itself, they conspired as well to achieve certain ends to their salvation's plan. It had been known intimately that their lord had been shattered and his return long desired, and even now after several millenniums, his return was nigh. His own creation had even entered the world through the secret plane to reclaim the lost ones.

Gathered together by a force beyond their current understanding on the roof of the Elemani Corporation Consolidation, many were eager for their lord's first foot step among them on the Surface. And while a few details have been excluded from this report, from which much anger had risen, nothing prepared them for the truth of that gathering.

They had vanished, without a word. Without a sound, save for the wind that brushed against the rooftop where their feet had been. Nothing left behind, everything taken, even they who had stood among them in secret between the bending light and delved shadows.

Opening their eyes, seeing home for the first time (and a few who remember it well from long ago), the order and the chaos ceased. There was nothing, yet everything: their world was full, but empty. Incredibly large, yet impossibly small. All governed by laws unknown to them. It was beauty incarnate, and yet as ugly as the most alien notion.

They saw him, his back turned and arms at his side. The power that emanated from him licked their throats and tugged on their hands. It was the very life-giving force that their Iotan nature needed. Something had changed in their home, for they were not connected to their lord anymore: separated, yet right at his feet. Then, all at once and together, they fell to their knees. Together, they gasped for air that was not there. Together, they screamed, mouths agape, death upon them.

All except a single man who stood behind everyone. Only a few among his brethren knew him, and his betrayal to their lord. Yet there he was, within the secret world of the secret plane.

With the very same rictus grin and complacent demeanor he had when he was exiled.

Essence of the World

Judas Iscariot, Slade?

Essence of the World

Great collabs, everyone. Con's having me catch up quickly.

Essence of the World

That makes sense.

Essence of the World

Oh, how splendid! Spoil me rotten with a PM or two. Don't hold back though; I'm on my deathbed after all.

-is smacked by Connie-