Broding spat blood onto the floor. He was battered and broken. The loss of blood was going to make even him lose consciousness if he wasn't careful. It was drying on his skin, although his dulled and jaded senses couldn't feel it. It was overwhelmed by the pain from his wounds, no other sensations could penetrate the thick fog of blood loss. His vision was swimming, blackness filling the edges of his sight, and it became hard to decide which way was up. He had hit the man by chance, a lucky blow. While the punches didn't do much to his hardened body, when they struck wounds, he could severely damage the muscles beneath. Every part of his body was battered and bruised, a state that he had never expected to find himself in. Around him was pooled not the blood of his enemies, but his own blood, flowing down from cuts and gashes all over his body. He could feel it down into his bruised bones, a feeling that was new to him. It pressed down to him, sank it's teeth into his mind, a feeling both foreign and oppressing, something that Gutra should never feel.
Broding felt defeat, clutching his heart in it's hand. He could feel the weight of fear, the knowledge that he had been equalled and outdone by an opponent. It was laughable, the idea that a small figure such as Lord Polvark could possibly defeat Gutra, strongest of Gun, chosen of Amun. And yet, as his opponent spoke, the conviction in his tone was obvious. He could feel a willpower, tempered in the fires of hate and adversion. A man who had been pushed down by the world, beaten into a corner, as one by one the pillars of his world view had become corrupted. And, now, all that pent up anger, all that frustration, was being focused into one fight. It was like a berserker rage, a state in which one felt no pain, and no fear. Such a thing was considered to be holy among the Gun, the ultimate warrior state, the ability to transcend human limits and to become a predator of man, a reaper of souls.
Slowly, the giant rose to his feet. He laughed, he couldn't help it. It wasn't a mocking laugh, for indeed his opponent had won his respect and more. It was a laugh directed at the stupidity of this situation, the fact that he had been bested by the man who would surrender for the lives of his men. In many ways, the little man was different from Broding. In his beliefs, in his morals, and in his view of this world. He thought differently from the Gung, and didn't abide by the warrior code that presided over their culture, he wasn't even a warrior. And yet, in one important way, Broding had found a reflection of himself in the little man. The man fought for his goals. He had decided what he wanted the world to be, and he had fought to forge the world into that image. The will to try and change the unchangeable, to try and fight the unfightable, to stand in the face of the greatest dangers and scream your defiance. It was something Broding could learn from.
"I must admit defeat, little man. You have bested me. By law of the Warrior Code, you may take my lands, my title, my wives, and my life. All are yours to do with as you see fit. You have earned the name of Gutra, and, having been defeated by such a small man, I can no longer wear that title with pride." Broding's voice was deep and heavy, and yet it was filled with an almost childlike sense of exhileration. A happiness that, while seemingly completely inappropriate for the situation, filled the former Gutra's heart. For in this defeat, in his first loss in this world, he had found something of far greater importance than victory. He had found an opponent, and a goal. "If you take my life, as is your right, the Gung will allow you out of this castle. However, if you leave me alive, I shall lead them out of this castle. If you truly wish to rebuild the world, then take up your arms and do so, little man. It would be a shame to see such a fiery soul die."
As Broding spoke, hushed whispers went through the observers. Gutra had renounced his title, and possibly his own life. Without Gutra to lead them, the Gung would need to select a new leader. There was no time for a massive tournament, for warriors to compete to be the one to take back the title from the iron man. As such, it was the duty of the High Shaman to apoint a new leader, and yet that same shaman was still at their home town. They would be left leaderless, although, with control of the great walls of Castle Rivergate, they could hold their position for months on end.
thewizardguy
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Dumbgeon Master
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
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- thewizardguy 12 yrs ago
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Bio
Just a random guy, doing random things.
Main RP: Hell's Coffee Lounge
Current RPs change often enough that it's too much effort keeping a list of them updated.
Most Recent Posts
Pathfinder said
I would say that if you really wanted to go with the heavy hitter route, then I wouldn't be abrasive to it. However as it stands we have 2 tanks, 1(?) mage, 3 sneakies, 3 warriors, and a nymph. If you were going to move out of the big guy rought we could use a healer of sorts because all our mage knows how to do is shoot death bolts, or maybe an explorer that doesn't really fight as much but can move in all terrains and knows a lot about said terrains. Just a suggestion but mull it over.
Hmm..... alright, that sounds like a good idea. I'll change my character. I just went with the heavy hitter because it's the first thing I came up with, I can just as well go with something else.
Personally, I have massive abundances of free time on my hands, and I'm able to easily read pretty much any posts. So for me, limited time isn't much of an issue. However, I think that it might be that we who have lots of time could place a little 'post summary' in the ooc or something of the like, to help you guys keep up.
I think creating a rules system like you're doing is a bit overboard, and I think people might ignore that just because they dislike someone trying to tell them what to do, as is a common reaction to such systems. I think it'd be best just to ask people to try and help out those with smaller quantities of free time at their disposal.
I think creating a rules system like you're doing is a bit overboard, and I think people might ignore that just because they dislike someone trying to tell them what to do, as is a common reaction to such systems. I think it'd be best just to ask people to try and help out those with smaller quantities of free time at their disposal.
Guilty Spark said
.@thewizardguy, I think we have enough heavy hitters in this RP already.
You think so? I must admit, I've been unable to read all the CS's in detail (so many!), so I wasn't sure about it. I could change into something less combat-oriented, if you guys think that would work better.
Character Name: Jeffrey
Species: Crystal Golem
Species description: Ancient and extinct, very little is known about the crystal golem. Hundreds of myths of the war refer to strange beings, formed from crystal, stone, or some form of metal. How many of these refer to the Crystal Golems, and how many refer to some other horror of war twisted by ignorance and time, will never be known. Even Jeffrey himself knows very little about his race. He remembers living in a mountain, and he remembers that a powerful mage had attacked their home. He and his kin had spilt out into the world to take revenge, and found themselves assaulted from all sides by the confused and often malicious forces of the many involved factions. Simple by nature, the golems simply fought back, becoming a part of the endless, bloody conflict.
The Golems, as their name would suggest, are created from crystal. It's unknown if the type and properties of this crystal differ from individual to individual, but at least Jeffrey's properties are known, and they shall have to serve as a standard for the race. He's around the size of a human being, slightly taller than the average male. He has no definable gender, but is usually referred to as 'he' due to his bulky appearance. He's kept alive by a core of magic bound to the crystals, something about the substance of this particular mineral holding it in place. He has a 'heart' in his chest, but that's his only discernable organ.
Gender: N/A
Noteworthy Abilities:
- Due to his lack of inner organs or any form of blood, wounds often don't have as much impact on Jeffrey as they would have on organic beings. While having his arm blown off will certainly stun him, he does not feel pain, as such, and cannot bleed to death. A blow to his 'heart' will permanently kill him, though.
- Jeffrey has a slight control over his body, and he's able to transform his arms into blades. This grants him powerful natural weapons, the equivelant of swords. They're incredibly sharp, but also more brittle than most swords. A strong blow to the side of the blade can break it.
- The crystal Jeffrey is made out of is quite sturdy. It would take quite some force to actually break it, and it doesn't burn. Sharp objects won't do much to it, but it's weak to blunt trauma, which can shatter it. A weapon like an axe, or a war pick, would be ideal.
- If provided with a substantial source of magic, such as a willing providing mage, Jeffrey can heal at extended rates. However, he has no way of extracting magic from magic users without killing them first, at which point their final breath can heal him substantially.
Weaknesses:
- Aside from being a strange sight, Jeffrey smells strongly of blood. Predatory monsters are naturally drawn to him, and he's constantly attacked by groups of scavenging beasts, from zombies to dire wolves to demons.
- Jeffrey is instinctively violent. Once an 'enemy' is provided for him, he'll charge into battle with no heed for his own life or that of others. He's known to enter an almost berserker rage that only ends when something calms him. For some reason, flowers work quite nicely.
- Jeffrey has to feed on magic at least once a week. If he's declined a magic source for 3 days or longer he becomes severely weakened, after five days he drops into a coma. After seven days, he dies, as his body returns to natural crystal. For this reason, he constantly seeks out those gifted with magical abilities, or locations filled with magical energy, in order to recharge his 'battery'.
- Because of his past, Jeffrey has large holes in his knowledge. Some things, which others would consider to be completely obvious, are foreign to him. From the rotation of the seasons, to telling his left from his right, many pieces of important knowledge are lacking from Jeffrey.
Background: Once, Jeffrey might have been a kind person. He remembered stepping from his mountain home, where he had fed on the background energies of some mystic convergence point, and being exposed to the harsh light of day. Not from the sun, mind you, for that had been blotted out by great waves of smoke and ash. It was the light of a thousand flames, burning across the horizon. Great dragons fought, and demons strode amongs thousands of men, armed and armored with works of steel and magic. He had seen the mage, and he had chaged. All he, and his people, had ever wanted was to kill the mage who had attacked the mountain, and return to their slumber. Looking back, Jeffrey can't even recall why he had cared so much about the mage. Perhaps that had been his original purpose, to protect the mountain from outsiders. After all, he was an artificial being.
However, it wasn't possible. Jeffrey stepped into the warzone, and he was engulfed in battle. People attacked him from all sides, and he struck back. The mage most likely fell to an arrow, or one of the many explosions. Perhaps it had been Jeffrey that killed him. After slaughtering so many, his memories had become blurred. He would fight, and fight, and fight to get home, never getting any further. After months of fighting, he had lost all purpose but the fight itself. Armies arrived and retreated, but the battle was neverending, a conflict between every major force in the land. For years and years, the undying golem fought. Elves, dwarves, orcs, humans, dragons. He fought, and he was fed by the magic that was rampant on the battlefield. For thousands of years, he fought, never stopping, never halting. He needed not to eat, nor to sleep, nor to sit back and heal his wounds. And in that time, Jeffrey was reborn as a killing machine.
Then, one day, Jeffrey fought a dragon. It was a long fight, and Jeffrey fell many times. At a certain point during the battle, he could clearly remember, his wounds stopped healing, and the dragon had figured out that fire was ineffective. Jeffrey had dodged claws, sliced scales. Even facing such a powerful opponent, Jeffrey did not flinch, and felt neither pain nor fear. That's what gave him the victory. Through sheer persistence, he managed to get onto the dragon's head. One hand had hooked into the dragon's flesh, the other stabbed into it's eye, as he kept on stabbing. Deeper and deeper he went, ripping apart the hard, stiff flesh. At a certain point, he reached the brain, and the dragon died. Climbing from the hole he had made, Jeffrey had healed his wounds from the dragon's last breath, and looked around for his next foe. And then, as he scoured the battlefield, he found himself alone in an endless field of corpses.
For days, Jeffrey had simply roamed, searching for something to fight. He had found nothing but scavenging beasts, wolves and monsters too busy with the free buffet on the ground to pay him any notice. A thousand years of fighting, and Jeffrey was finally alone. He could not see his home, and in a way, he did not care. That goal, which had once been a part of his very being, had been wiped out in the war. His mind was a hollow shell of what it had once been. And thus, the killing machine simply stopped. With nobody to fight, and no goal to achieve, what was there to do? He found a nice looking place, where flowers where growing from the corpse of some magic user. Probably a druid, or perhaps a forest spirit. And, looking at the flowers, he had stopped moving.
A week later, a strange man arrived. Jeffrey had subsisted off of the remaining magical energy of demons and half-gods, which was rapidly draining. However, he had made peace with the idea of dying. And yet, when this man arrived, he had not fought. He did not kill, nor did he feed. Instead, he would examine the bodies, he would smile, and write things down. Not spells of destruction, or runes of summoning, but simple notes. He had been a scholar, one of the last few remaining in this world. And when he found Jeffrey, they had had an interesting conversation.
"Who might you be, dear sir?" The stranger had asked. Jeffrey did not know this yet, but it was strange for one to address him without fear. The scholar, of course, was standing in one of the most magical places to have ever existed. That must have been why he was not more surprised to see a living, moving man made of crystals. How someone could be this cheerful in a place of such slaughter, however, was something Jeffrey had never understood.
"I don't know. I have forgotten my name." The answer was honest. Fighting in that endless battle, which had finally come to an end, Jeffrey had had no need for a name. He had become nothing but a bundle of fighting instincts, muscle memory, and bloodlust. The blood from the battle had seeped into his body, and stained hima bright red. His very mind and soul had been invaded by the lives he'd taken and the blood he'd spilt.
"Then would you mind me naming you? It's quite sad for someone to have to live in this world without a name of his own." Without waiting for any sign of consent from the golem, the strange man had continued, still abundantly cheerful. "I'll call you Jeffrey. That's my brother's name, but you can have it. it might not be the best name for one of your kind, but I think it'll have to do for the time being."
The newly-named Jeffrey had had no reasonable objections. While everything about this situation clashed with his experience of social interaction, which was limited to battle and death, he could think of no good reason why not to accept the name. It was, indeed, quite inconvenient not to have one, and the man seemed nice enough. And, similarly, when the man had asked whether Jeffrey would be his traveling companion until he discovered what he wanted to do with his life, he had also had no good reason to object. And thus, unknowingly, the strange man saved Jeffrey in more ways than one.
After splitting up with the strange man, who had gone by the name of Bob, Jeffrey travelled the land on his own. He looked for magic users and magical places to survive, of course, but beyond that, he looked for things to do. He had found that, outside of the field of battle, there were many pleasures to be had. He took a joy to talking to the few people who didn't hate or fear him for his appearance or the smell of blood that always surrounded him. he helped where he could, sometimes fighting off robbers or wandering beasts, sometimes helping a farmer plant crops. It was the simple things, hard work, and talking to people that helped Jeffrey to get his mind off of bloodshed. And thus, he began to heal the scars that had been left on his mind.
Appearance:
Reason for Detainment: Cattle mutilation. This was actually quite an accurate conviction, as, at the time, Jeffrey had been convinced that the cattle where some form of scavenging beast. They were a rare beast, and he had never seen them domesticated before, although only a fool would have slaughtered them. Having ruined the farmer's livelihood, he was sentenced to life in prison.
Species: Crystal Golem
Species description: Ancient and extinct, very little is known about the crystal golem. Hundreds of myths of the war refer to strange beings, formed from crystal, stone, or some form of metal. How many of these refer to the Crystal Golems, and how many refer to some other horror of war twisted by ignorance and time, will never be known. Even Jeffrey himself knows very little about his race. He remembers living in a mountain, and he remembers that a powerful mage had attacked their home. He and his kin had spilt out into the world to take revenge, and found themselves assaulted from all sides by the confused and often malicious forces of the many involved factions. Simple by nature, the golems simply fought back, becoming a part of the endless, bloody conflict.
The Golems, as their name would suggest, are created from crystal. It's unknown if the type and properties of this crystal differ from individual to individual, but at least Jeffrey's properties are known, and they shall have to serve as a standard for the race. He's around the size of a human being, slightly taller than the average male. He has no definable gender, but is usually referred to as 'he' due to his bulky appearance. He's kept alive by a core of magic bound to the crystals, something about the substance of this particular mineral holding it in place. He has a 'heart' in his chest, but that's his only discernable organ.
Gender: N/A
Noteworthy Abilities:
- Due to his lack of inner organs or any form of blood, wounds often don't have as much impact on Jeffrey as they would have on organic beings. While having his arm blown off will certainly stun him, he does not feel pain, as such, and cannot bleed to death. A blow to his 'heart' will permanently kill him, though.
- Jeffrey has a slight control over his body, and he's able to transform his arms into blades. This grants him powerful natural weapons, the equivelant of swords. They're incredibly sharp, but also more brittle than most swords. A strong blow to the side of the blade can break it.
- The crystal Jeffrey is made out of is quite sturdy. It would take quite some force to actually break it, and it doesn't burn. Sharp objects won't do much to it, but it's weak to blunt trauma, which can shatter it. A weapon like an axe, or a war pick, would be ideal.
- If provided with a substantial source of magic, such as a willing providing mage, Jeffrey can heal at extended rates. However, he has no way of extracting magic from magic users without killing them first, at which point their final breath can heal him substantially.
Weaknesses:
- Aside from being a strange sight, Jeffrey smells strongly of blood. Predatory monsters are naturally drawn to him, and he's constantly attacked by groups of scavenging beasts, from zombies to dire wolves to demons.
- Jeffrey is instinctively violent. Once an 'enemy' is provided for him, he'll charge into battle with no heed for his own life or that of others. He's known to enter an almost berserker rage that only ends when something calms him. For some reason, flowers work quite nicely.
- Jeffrey has to feed on magic at least once a week. If he's declined a magic source for 3 days or longer he becomes severely weakened, after five days he drops into a coma. After seven days, he dies, as his body returns to natural crystal. For this reason, he constantly seeks out those gifted with magical abilities, or locations filled with magical energy, in order to recharge his 'battery'.
- Because of his past, Jeffrey has large holes in his knowledge. Some things, which others would consider to be completely obvious, are foreign to him. From the rotation of the seasons, to telling his left from his right, many pieces of important knowledge are lacking from Jeffrey.
Background: Once, Jeffrey might have been a kind person. He remembered stepping from his mountain home, where he had fed on the background energies of some mystic convergence point, and being exposed to the harsh light of day. Not from the sun, mind you, for that had been blotted out by great waves of smoke and ash. It was the light of a thousand flames, burning across the horizon. Great dragons fought, and demons strode amongs thousands of men, armed and armored with works of steel and magic. He had seen the mage, and he had chaged. All he, and his people, had ever wanted was to kill the mage who had attacked the mountain, and return to their slumber. Looking back, Jeffrey can't even recall why he had cared so much about the mage. Perhaps that had been his original purpose, to protect the mountain from outsiders. After all, he was an artificial being.
However, it wasn't possible. Jeffrey stepped into the warzone, and he was engulfed in battle. People attacked him from all sides, and he struck back. The mage most likely fell to an arrow, or one of the many explosions. Perhaps it had been Jeffrey that killed him. After slaughtering so many, his memories had become blurred. He would fight, and fight, and fight to get home, never getting any further. After months of fighting, he had lost all purpose but the fight itself. Armies arrived and retreated, but the battle was neverending, a conflict between every major force in the land. For years and years, the undying golem fought. Elves, dwarves, orcs, humans, dragons. He fought, and he was fed by the magic that was rampant on the battlefield. For thousands of years, he fought, never stopping, never halting. He needed not to eat, nor to sleep, nor to sit back and heal his wounds. And in that time, Jeffrey was reborn as a killing machine.
Then, one day, Jeffrey fought a dragon. It was a long fight, and Jeffrey fell many times. At a certain point during the battle, he could clearly remember, his wounds stopped healing, and the dragon had figured out that fire was ineffective. Jeffrey had dodged claws, sliced scales. Even facing such a powerful opponent, Jeffrey did not flinch, and felt neither pain nor fear. That's what gave him the victory. Through sheer persistence, he managed to get onto the dragon's head. One hand had hooked into the dragon's flesh, the other stabbed into it's eye, as he kept on stabbing. Deeper and deeper he went, ripping apart the hard, stiff flesh. At a certain point, he reached the brain, and the dragon died. Climbing from the hole he had made, Jeffrey had healed his wounds from the dragon's last breath, and looked around for his next foe. And then, as he scoured the battlefield, he found himself alone in an endless field of corpses.
For days, Jeffrey had simply roamed, searching for something to fight. He had found nothing but scavenging beasts, wolves and monsters too busy with the free buffet on the ground to pay him any notice. A thousand years of fighting, and Jeffrey was finally alone. He could not see his home, and in a way, he did not care. That goal, which had once been a part of his very being, had been wiped out in the war. His mind was a hollow shell of what it had once been. And thus, the killing machine simply stopped. With nobody to fight, and no goal to achieve, what was there to do? He found a nice looking place, where flowers where growing from the corpse of some magic user. Probably a druid, or perhaps a forest spirit. And, looking at the flowers, he had stopped moving.
A week later, a strange man arrived. Jeffrey had subsisted off of the remaining magical energy of demons and half-gods, which was rapidly draining. However, he had made peace with the idea of dying. And yet, when this man arrived, he had not fought. He did not kill, nor did he feed. Instead, he would examine the bodies, he would smile, and write things down. Not spells of destruction, or runes of summoning, but simple notes. He had been a scholar, one of the last few remaining in this world. And when he found Jeffrey, they had had an interesting conversation.
"Who might you be, dear sir?" The stranger had asked. Jeffrey did not know this yet, but it was strange for one to address him without fear. The scholar, of course, was standing in one of the most magical places to have ever existed. That must have been why he was not more surprised to see a living, moving man made of crystals. How someone could be this cheerful in a place of such slaughter, however, was something Jeffrey had never understood.
"I don't know. I have forgotten my name." The answer was honest. Fighting in that endless battle, which had finally come to an end, Jeffrey had had no need for a name. He had become nothing but a bundle of fighting instincts, muscle memory, and bloodlust. The blood from the battle had seeped into his body, and stained hima bright red. His very mind and soul had been invaded by the lives he'd taken and the blood he'd spilt.
"Then would you mind me naming you? It's quite sad for someone to have to live in this world without a name of his own." Without waiting for any sign of consent from the golem, the strange man had continued, still abundantly cheerful. "I'll call you Jeffrey. That's my brother's name, but you can have it. it might not be the best name for one of your kind, but I think it'll have to do for the time being."
The newly-named Jeffrey had had no reasonable objections. While everything about this situation clashed with his experience of social interaction, which was limited to battle and death, he could think of no good reason why not to accept the name. It was, indeed, quite inconvenient not to have one, and the man seemed nice enough. And, similarly, when the man had asked whether Jeffrey would be his traveling companion until he discovered what he wanted to do with his life, he had also had no good reason to object. And thus, unknowingly, the strange man saved Jeffrey in more ways than one.
After splitting up with the strange man, who had gone by the name of Bob, Jeffrey travelled the land on his own. He looked for magic users and magical places to survive, of course, but beyond that, he looked for things to do. He had found that, outside of the field of battle, there were many pleasures to be had. He took a joy to talking to the few people who didn't hate or fear him for his appearance or the smell of blood that always surrounded him. he helped where he could, sometimes fighting off robbers or wandering beasts, sometimes helping a farmer plant crops. It was the simple things, hard work, and talking to people that helped Jeffrey to get his mind off of bloodshed. And thus, he began to heal the scars that had been left on his mind.
Appearance:
Reason for Detainment: Cattle mutilation. This was actually quite an accurate conviction, as, at the time, Jeffrey had been convinced that the cattle where some form of scavenging beast. They were a rare beast, and he had never seen them domesticated before, although only a fool would have slaughtered them. Having ruined the farmer's livelihood, he was sentenced to life in prison.
"Psh. God? You people can't even agree on what those laws are, how am I supposed to care?" She smiles, as a massive wall parts in front of her. Black segmented carapace moves aside to reveal a massive chamber, it's walls a bleached white color. It smells burnt, the air charged with ozone. As you walk, you can feel a tingling on your skin, As if you had touched something mildly electric. A bright blue light fills the room, from a source too bright to look at. Everything is outlined, and you can hear, softly, the voices of hundreds of seperate people. It's strangely exhilerating, like a sugar high. You can feel somehting in the air, something electric, something highly charged. Something volatile and powerful, a concentration of unspeakable energies. "Welcome to my personal laboratory. Here, is where I shall focus the stream of souls. And then, I'll alter it according to my will."
Teoinsanity said
Oh yeeeaaaah,you are a vampire,forgot.He continues pointing his finger at her.Why do you destroy worlds!?
Alice chuckles, as she takes the finger, and yanks it. She easily pulls you along, far stronger than her relatively petite frame would suggest, as she leads you out of the room while it was transforming. "Why, what other reason is there? For science, of course!" She smiles at you, as she leads you through a number of corridors. Even as she walks, you can feel the corridors moving, the structure of the Devourer changing to get her to where she wants to be more quickly. "But I can sense you're a man of science yourself, so let me show you. The greatest experiment this reality has ever seen, The experiment to reforge the laws of life and death itself."
The girl's smile only widens. "I knew it! Soular energy!" She seems to move around her hands, as you can feel billions of microscopic beings moving around in the air. The very walls around you tremble, as you can feel the massive energy of so many living creatures moving in unison. an uncountable army, too small for the human eye to see, microclusters forming and dissipating. "I've already studied and enhanced my ideas on genetic manipulation and cell structures. And yet, you manage to perform acts of spontaneous transformation with no apparent power source. Complete rebuilds of not only a cellular, but a mollecular structure." Her grin somehow grows even wider than before, and her eyes take on a curious greed, a trademark symbol of a Heterodyne's insatiable curiosity. "In all of the databases constructed from the memory tissue of worlds from all across the multiverse, I could find only a single reoccurring being with this supposed ability. All accounts agree, although your appearance doesn't match him. Aono Tsukune, the Lord of Vampires."
The entire being seems to tremble and rumble, as she moves her fingers through the air. It's as if she were playing an invisible piano, orchestrating the movement of untold billions of beings, patterns emerging from the original chaos. You can feel ancient memories awakening from within. Tsukune had remained silent for a long time, his original conversation with you had drained the shard of his soul massively. After all, he was not a complete being, and but a shard of him had remained. However, you can feel your body almost automatically reacting, as the walls changed color, moving further apart. blobs of strange goo reached up from the ground, forming into solid objects, composed of structures of microscopic glue-like secretions from billions of creatures. Sections of the wall turned transparent, widening into square windows, as the floor turned a pastel, woodlike color. A red sky was revealed, a sea of blood. The structures in the room settled, forming chairs and desks. In a vastly surreal scenario, the very room you were in formed to the girl's will, as you realize the Genesis Devourer never was a single creature. It was completely composed of microorganisms, a structure composed of a combination of cells, each both individually capable, and perfectly cooperative. The greatest biological symbiotic system ever seen in the known multiverse, an ecosystem all on it's own, Set and calibrated by the mastermind who somehow orchestrated the entire thing.
"YES! Do you like it? Do you? It's pieced together from the remaining tissue that I was able to retrieve from a certain demonic peddler. The ergonamic structures had to be callibrated to approximate the materials, and I had to make a number of assumptions based on my limited knowledge of the planet and world, judging things by fragmented memories, but I think it turned out rather nicely!" The girl blabbered on, stating a number of scientific and occasionally completely nonsensical comparisons, obviously thoroughly impressed with herself. Before you, you find yourself in a classroom. It feels like home. At the desks sit students wearing green uniforms, eahc facing away from you. A strange girl with blue hair, and long black wings. A small child wearing an odd outfit, a pointed hat on her head. A variety of strange characters, and you can feel the remnants of memories stirring at the sight of them. This was the classroom where you had first met Tsukune.
The girl chuckled, and you realized she'd stopped talking a little ago. She was looking you over with a critical eye, the look of a scientist examining some interesting specimen under controlled circumstances. Her hands were on her hips, as she raised an eyebrow at you. Then she promptly turned away, as she walked for the door. "The man I hired for an important job asked me to prepare this. You may have changed your appearance, Tsukune, but you were a fool to believe you could remain hidden forever. As for me, I'm just interested in seeing what happens." As she walks, every single figure in the room stands. Their faces were empty, devoid of noses or mouths. Slowly, red liquid started leaking down the sides of their faces, small holes opening in both their skin and clothing. Each stares you down without eyes, and you can clearly sense the billions of beings, formed together to create these humanoid structures.
Tap.... tap..... tap......
Three footsteps, slowly approaching. You're surrounded by enemies, and yet suddenly, they seem superficial. As if they weren't a threat, pointless decorations, all bark and no real bite. Every cell in your body screams at you, every primal instinct your mind possesses exploding with fear. The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside this room. Three soft taps, and already you realize your mind is clouding with fear. Something was coming. And whatever it was, was incredibly dangerous. And it was someone that Tsukune had known.
The entire being seems to tremble and rumble, as she moves her fingers through the air. It's as if she were playing an invisible piano, orchestrating the movement of untold billions of beings, patterns emerging from the original chaos. You can feel ancient memories awakening from within. Tsukune had remained silent for a long time, his original conversation with you had drained the shard of his soul massively. After all, he was not a complete being, and but a shard of him had remained. However, you can feel your body almost automatically reacting, as the walls changed color, moving further apart. blobs of strange goo reached up from the ground, forming into solid objects, composed of structures of microscopic glue-like secretions from billions of creatures. Sections of the wall turned transparent, widening into square windows, as the floor turned a pastel, woodlike color. A red sky was revealed, a sea of blood. The structures in the room settled, forming chairs and desks. In a vastly surreal scenario, the very room you were in formed to the girl's will, as you realize the Genesis Devourer never was a single creature. It was completely composed of microorganisms, a structure composed of a combination of cells, each both individually capable, and perfectly cooperative. The greatest biological symbiotic system ever seen in the known multiverse, an ecosystem all on it's own, Set and calibrated by the mastermind who somehow orchestrated the entire thing.
"YES! Do you like it? Do you? It's pieced together from the remaining tissue that I was able to retrieve from a certain demonic peddler. The ergonamic structures had to be callibrated to approximate the materials, and I had to make a number of assumptions based on my limited knowledge of the planet and world, judging things by fragmented memories, but I think it turned out rather nicely!" The girl blabbered on, stating a number of scientific and occasionally completely nonsensical comparisons, obviously thoroughly impressed with herself. Before you, you find yourself in a classroom. It feels like home. At the desks sit students wearing green uniforms, eahc facing away from you. A strange girl with blue hair, and long black wings. A small child wearing an odd outfit, a pointed hat on her head. A variety of strange characters, and you can feel the remnants of memories stirring at the sight of them. This was the classroom where you had first met Tsukune.
The girl chuckled, and you realized she'd stopped talking a little ago. She was looking you over with a critical eye, the look of a scientist examining some interesting specimen under controlled circumstances. Her hands were on her hips, as she raised an eyebrow at you. Then she promptly turned away, as she walked for the door. "The man I hired for an important job asked me to prepare this. You may have changed your appearance, Tsukune, but you were a fool to believe you could remain hidden forever. As for me, I'm just interested in seeing what happens." As she walks, every single figure in the room stands. Their faces were empty, devoid of noses or mouths. Slowly, red liquid started leaking down the sides of their faces, small holes opening in both their skin and clothing. Each stares you down without eyes, and you can clearly sense the billions of beings, formed together to create these humanoid structures.
Tap.... tap..... tap......
Three footsteps, slowly approaching. You're surrounded by enemies, and yet suddenly, they seem superficial. As if they weren't a threat, pointless decorations, all bark and no real bite. Every cell in your body screams at you, every primal instinct your mind possesses exploding with fear. The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside this room. Three soft taps, and already you realize your mind is clouding with fear. Something was coming. And whatever it was, was incredibly dangerous. And it was someone that Tsukune had known.
The homunculus stiffened, as it was unexpectedly filled with the now liquified Mithias. For a couple of moments, it's meaty hands pulled at the liquid in it's pores, before it's color shifted from red to green, and from green to blue. Around Mithias, it seemed to melt apart, turning into a small pool of blue sludge. The smell of ammonia filled the air, almost to a sickening extent, and the path was left open for you. Alice raises an eyebrow as she looks over to you, a faint smile on her lips. "You know, I sent you off for a reason. Impressive as that little display was, it's quite troublesome if you won't cooperate."
The Judge chuckles. It's a low, echoing sound, almost inhuman. "Imbalance is but a temporary thing. Anarchy, chaos, it's simply a side effect of the imperfections within our reality. You are but a symptom, and yet I aim to eliminate the disease. If your nature lies in imbalance, then soon you shall be dead. For once all is one with the Genesis Devourer, there will be a perfect balance between all things, and we shall forge a utopia of life and death." The Judge dismisses the stranger as a threat, his sensing percieving an alteration in the future. The fabric of destiny was once more warped.
A large amount of energy was emanating through the remainders of this world, focused on the girl who the Judge had defeated before. It was rather easy to recognize the energy, a fool's attempt at controlling the fabric of reality. "Are you speeding up your demise? Once this realm collapses, you will all be dropped into the void. Exposed to the destructive powers of Omega, it will take mere moments for your souls and bodies to be destroyed completely. I am able to survive, but you will not." The man smiles, as his own power gathers inside of him. Energy focuses around him, as the intertwining powers of life and death spiral around one another. A perfect balance, albeit slightly disrupted as more and more of the microorganisms were destroyed by the Void. Those slight disturbances sent tremors through the ground, and set the Judge's skin on fire. Slight impurities releasing enough energy to burn countries to cinders. Massive flashes of destruction, uncontrolled and deadly, followed by equal bursts of wild life energy, growths and creatures crawling from nowhere. Small hints at the power that was gathered in this man's hands. "Bring it, children."
A large amount of energy was emanating through the remainders of this world, focused on the girl who the Judge had defeated before. It was rather easy to recognize the energy, a fool's attempt at controlling the fabric of reality. "Are you speeding up your demise? Once this realm collapses, you will all be dropped into the void. Exposed to the destructive powers of Omega, it will take mere moments for your souls and bodies to be destroyed completely. I am able to survive, but you will not." The man smiles, as his own power gathers inside of him. Energy focuses around him, as the intertwining powers of life and death spiral around one another. A perfect balance, albeit slightly disrupted as more and more of the microorganisms were destroyed by the Void. Those slight disturbances sent tremors through the ground, and set the Judge's skin on fire. Slight impurities releasing enough energy to burn countries to cinders. Massive flashes of destruction, uncontrolled and deadly, followed by equal bursts of wild life energy, growths and creatures crawling from nowhere. Small hints at the power that was gathered in this man's hands. "Bring it, children."
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