It's a stinking, shambling corpse grotesquely parodying life.
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PostPosted: Thu Jun 12, 2003 2:42 am 
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"The people demand the truth!!!" the presenter stood as he shouted after the general. Sh he did, the power in the studio flickered. He glanced to the producer, who gave a shrug. Running a finger inside his collar, the man sat back down and looked to the camera once more. "Ladies and gantlemen..."

"It's no use, Jim. We're not getting signal." One of the broadcast operators spoke up. "Something must be..."

He was cut off as a violent shockwave wracked the building. As a panic began to grip everyone in the room, the doors that the general had only moments ago exited from were flung open, and the body of General L Bios flew in and skidded across the floor.

A woman screamed as seconds later, his head joined him.

"The general would like to apologize for his rude exit." Fold said, as he strode slowly into the room. "He clearly lost his head."

Jim Windsor pushed back in his chair, trying to edge away. Suddenly he grimaced and clutched his chest as Fold reached out his hand.

"The rest of you may go. This man, though..." he twisted his hand and Jim coughed out a spurt of blood, his face tightening. "This man is about to be written out."

Almost immediately, everyone in the room began frantic scrambling towards the exits as Fold crossed the room to Jim's side. The presenter was now on his knees, propped up on one arm, the other clutching at his chest.

"Pl-please..." he coughed out. "I have... a wife.. preg..pregnant... two children..."

Fold grinned. "I know you do. I just wrote it."

"Wh..what?" Jim winced, another cough of blood splattered to the floor.

"I wrote it, you fucking idiot. You didn't believe the truth, and spread lies. You gave empty characters hope in a future that doesn't exist. Jim... your wife just had a miscarriage, I am sorry to say. Sad state, really."

Jim tried to crane his neck and look up at Fold, who had an evil grin spread across his lips. "..why?"

The grin bled from Folds face, replaced with a hateful scowl, and he leaned, siezing Jim in his hands and lifting him into the air.

"Why? WHY?!? Why NOT!!" Fold threw Jim across the room into the camera stands. Instantly he was hovering over the wounded man. "Jim, I'm sorry, but your time is up." Fold cracked his knuckles and held his hand outstretched. A rune quickly flashed upon his left temple, and his hand began to glow. "And Jim?" he leaned down, placing the hand on Jim's forehead and bringing his lips close to his ear. He then whispered, "I work for no one but myself."

"I... I just..."

Fold didn't care. Jim's life ended in that moment, in searing pain.

As he slowly stood and walked from the studio, Fold paused and glanced back at the dead man.

"I lied," he said, "I'm not sorry."

-= Cue up: "Aimee Allen - I'd Start A Revolution" =-

All across the world, I have watched. Even from inside, I was aware. I was watching, just as you are now. Simple characters running around blind to the reality that controlled them. A world they couldn't understand.

But... I changed all of that.

Because of me, they <i>are</i> aware.

Because of me, the world has changed. The very purpose of this 'game' has been reshaped to fit <b>my</b> will.

But even after all I have done so far, there has still been order. The Expatriates still had their purpose. Discovering their pasts as they were being written. Working together for one solitary purpose, regardless of personal feelings, in many cases.

To be honest, it both amuses me and sickens me.

These mere puppets dance around at the ends of their strings, pulled every which way by you, their Watchers. Ripped kicking and screaming through pain, and never given any sign that things will work out peacefully in the end. Pawns in a game that their masters don't yet fully understand.

So again, I will change the world. It has always been my intention, but for reasons I keep to myself.

And you, who watch from above, seeing what I have done to your world, are powerless to stop me. Yes, you can effect things after the change, but not during. For this is my show, now.

And to think... I gave months fair warning, and each and every one of you sat back wrapped in your own developing characters to the point where I was able to spread my influence. Now, after so long, you still sit, waiting with baited breath. No doubt you are hung on my every word.

So answer me this: Who is the Watcher, and who is the creation?

Forgive me for not sticking around for an answer... Someone left their toys out, and it's time for me to clean up. Feel free to watch, though... It's what you do best.



-= Cue up: "Final Fantasy VIII - Perdition Hardcore (OverClocked Remix)" =-

The Expatriates stood around the remnants of the farm, the last of the nights soft rain finally beginning to fade. A few faces amongst the crowd almost seemed relieved. It had been a long night, and the sun's first light would be a refreshing change.

"So, where do we head now?" Icy asked, looking around at the others.

Riuku shrugged. "Beats me. I kind of figured Fold would just come to us."

"You think he would? I mean, he must know we're all together. Wouldn't that be like walking into a pack of wolves?"

Kit looked over at him, shaking his head. "You haven't seen the way he fights. I have no doubt he could take us all on. He might even win, we don't even know the extent of his strength."

"So?" Ezelek spoke up. "Come on, there are so many of us. And we don't plan to take him on ninja style, one at a time, right? He can't guard against... everyone... can he?" His voice trailed off. After a moment, he silently held up a hand and looked to the horizon. "Shhh..."

Everyone stopped and followed his gaze.

"What is it? You see something?" Mad asked, stepping over.

Ez paused, holding a finger to his lips. After a moment, he turned to look at the Expatriates. "No... it's what I don't see that has me worried."

Actor raised an eyebrow. Suddenly a watch beeped, indicating the passing hour, and he raised the other eyebrow, his eyes widening. "The sun... Where's the morning sun?"

Off in the direction of the morning, there was indeed no signs of early light. Not even the faintest glow of the coming day could be seen.

"I'm sorry, children, but you won't be able to work on yout tans today. I never liked the daylight, so I simply... removed the sun." A voice echoed all around.

Immediately, everyone began frantic looks around, trying to pinpoint where the voice had originated.

"Fold!" Mad shouted, already on his feet. "What's your game? Where are you damnit?"

Again the voice drifted in as if from nowhere and everywhere at once. "My game? Why Mad, you should know that has never been about games. This is about reality."

"You know what I mean!"

Fold laughed, the sound rustling the leaves in nearby trees. "You haven't changed on bit, Mad." He paused, his voice growing serious. "Now, throughout all of this, I have gathered that you intend to 'save the world'... is this correct? As if I am some worldly threat, and you band of do-gooders are the righteous heroes chosen to stop me? Well shit, someone call Hollywood, cause I think we have an Oscar."

Antenor fired a shot into the trees. "Damnit! Quit screwing around and show yourself!"

Fold chuckled. "Naughty, naughty... didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with guns? I mean, come on, Antenor, you might accidentally shoot someone. Or worse... <i>you could shoot your eye out...</i>" The last words dripped forth mockingly.

Antenor reached up to his damaged eye and cursed, then let out a yell and fired repeatedly into the trees. One by one, though, each shot could be seen veering off, being redirected. Trees, the ground, up into the sky... one shot, however, appeared to hover a second before turning a complete 180, and came rocketing back towards Antenor, who was still firing out of rage.

"Antenor!" Troluis shouted, diving to push the armored man clear.

Horrified and unable to react as quickly, everyone else watched as Troluis managed to get Antenor out of the path, only to be struck through the chest himself. Dead on impact, his eyes went wide and rolled back as his body slammed to the ground, skidding a few feet.

"Hahaha!! You see? Tsk tsk, bad Antenor! Now you went and killed your friend!" Fold seemed ecstatic, his laughter filling the area as Antenor closed Troluis's eyes and held his lost comrade cradled in his arms. A tear of blood fell from his wounded socket as the space marine silently cursed and swore vengeance upon honor.

"Now, if everyone is through trying to play the hero, I shall get back to my point..."

Fold spoke. As he did, faint images began to spring up, hovering in the area for all to see. "Is this the world you want to save?"

In one image was a bakery. The plump woman behind the counter was smiling as the woman and child in front of her picked out their weekly breads. A flash of red swept across her face, and she instantly threw herself over the counter, slamming the woman's face into the display case glass. Blood streaked as the girl screamed silently and the plumper woman began to tear at the mother with her hands and teeth.

In another, the members of Parliament sat in session, debating. Various flashes through the crowd were suddenly seen, and the presiding official pulled the gun away from security and began to unload on the room. Others began to dive at each other, tearing at flesh as had happened in the previous scene.

Every scene depicted a different violent act. Some without warning, others that seemed to be a breaking point. Faster and faster the images began to appear.

A thirteen year old boy attacking the family dog, who had just seconds ago made the child an orphan. A business man smashing his laptop violently into the airplane cabin window, shattering it, as the flight attendants beat a vacationing woman to death with cans of pop. A five year old girl sitting in the back seat of the family minivan on the way to her first day of school, strangling her mother in the driver's seat with the backpack they had just made a surprise trip to go purchase.

"The world is covered in chaos. Mass insanity has spread like a wildfire. Do you really think that you can save it? Do you think that the world <b>WANTS</b> to be saved?!?!" There was a snap, and instantly the images vanished. "This world is diseased. Hell, this world doesn't even exist! What chance does a world such as this have when balanced on the minds of misfits? Chaos rules their hearts, and characters plague their minds. The only salvation is a complete purge! No, I'm sorry, children, there will be no tomorrow."

Barghest fell to one knee and punched the ground.

Miaoming buried her face in Kitsune's chest, unable to stop the tears. He wrapped an arm around her, and brought his other up, placing his hand on his face, wishing he could remove the images he had just seen.

"Well, young ones, I have one last image to show you before I leave you to your decisions..."

A single image appeared overhead, much larger than all of the previous. In it, the president of the United States stands over the dead body of his vice president. A terrified look on his face gives account that he was not the one driven insane. He looks down at the blood on his hands, and then out the window to the chaos below. Outside of the White House, tourists and security alike are at each other. The president backs away slowly, then turns and runs to his desk. He flips up a hidden case beneath his letter opener and glances at the red button staring up at him.

As the image of the president held for a moment, the others on the ground could hear his breath, unlike in the other images where there was no sound. The president closed his eyes and reached out.

"God have mercy on us all..."



-= Cue up: "Slurpy Mundae - Fold" =-

Chris opened his eyes and lifted his head slowly. He was in a dimly lit room, his hands tied behind him. A slight coppery taste in his mouth and the tightness of his lower lip told him this wasn't a pleasure restraint.

"Good, you're awake. Fold was hoping you would be up for Blood Dawn."

Chris scanned the room and found his captor sitting in a chair in the corner.

"You don't have to look so surprised to see me. You knew who I was long before I even did, right?" She said, leaning into the light.

He sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right... Though at that point, I hadn't expected to be pulled into the story. I was just writing you secretively, hoping to keep it a surprise. You know... dramatic and all."

She laughed and smiled. "You know, I can see alot of BiShou in you. Or would it be the other way around? I mean, you <i>did</i> create him, after all..."

"Heh... true." He smiled and pulled against his bindings. "I don't suppose you could let me go?"

"Sorry, no." she stood. "Fold wants you around, and says he can't have you running around messing things up."

"What is he planning, anyway?"

"You should know, you created him, right?" she walked slowly over and crouched down, coming face to face with Chris. She looked over his face for a moment. "God, you two even look the same..."

"You said it yourself. I created him... well, technically I <i>caused</i> him. But either way, no, I don't have any idea, other than what was planned out before... before I came here..." he slowly trailed off.

"What? What is it?"

"He doesn't care about you, you know. You think he does, but he will betray your feelings..."

She slapped Chris then, rising to her feet. "What bullshit! You don't know anything!"

"But I do. Parts of this world's future have already been worked out. Things may alter slightly as they go along, but there is a basis and a structure for this world. I don't know how much has changed since I came in here, but things <b>have</b> been written!"

"Exactly," she said, grabbing his chin and pulling his face close. "Written by you. But you aren't in control anymore. You aren't making the big decisions. Or did you think that you being here right now was of your own doing?" She paused, looking at Chris as he realized that much of what she said was true. "You see? So any plans you had for the future are out the window." She dropped him back in his seat.

Chris sighed and shook his head. "It can't all have changed..."

"Face it. Fold is in charge, and you're stuck being the helpless character, for once. Face facts, Chris... you're here whether you wrote it or not."


-= Cue up: "Final Fantasy VI - Dancing Madly Second Form (OverClocked Remix)" =-

"God have mercy on us all..."


The president and the button disappeared, but the image remained. No longer showing the Commander in Chief, the view was replaced with that of a nuclear warhead. Not in motion, it simply rotated... as if giving an examinationer's perspective.

"So I lied. I'm not leaving just yet. What you just saw was an image from a few hours ago. Rather chilling, wasn't it?"

The warhead continued to rotate, slowly beginning to flip end over end, as well.

Sherm moved slowly over to Mad, then he whispered. "What should we do? Where do you think he's at?"

"I don't think we can do anything at this point... At least not yet... For now we watch... and wait."

Fold cleared his throat. "No talking in class, children. Now... unfortunately, the 'bold' leader of the free world has decided that this world needs cleansing. And I can't agree more. So I've stepped up this process..."

In the image, the nuke stopped its movement, and slowly streaked as if falling from the sky. As it did so, the image began to shrink until it almost disappeared, and then began to grow once more...

Only it was no longer an image.

The nuclear warhead streaked out of the sky, angled directly at the old farmhouse.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." Fold's voice whispered. "Welcome to <b>my</b> world."

Upon impact, a brilliant flash, millions of times brighter than the sun, consumed the area. A sweeping, instantaneous searing pain gripped the Expatriates, and immediately it was gone, replaced with a quietness like no other.

And then... a wind.

Followed by birds chirping.

And slowly, the Expatriates opened their eyes.



Now then. No, they aren't dead, don't be stupid.

Mad knows part of how this is set up, and he should be able to answer any questions that what I have to say here doesn't. (Not that I'm not going to be thorough.) Also, as it was Mad and Ez that helped with minor proofreading, any and all errors in characterization... blame them. They should have stopped me. Or not...

Wake up to your leisure... but no one is near anyone else. The only ones left are those that still post and I believe Sherm... (And someone else, who knows I'm talking about him, and I'll let him know what works to get things back on track for him...) There may be a few others, as story sees fit, and planning, but regardless, no one is anywhere near anyone else. Also, please no teleporting, because that really would be cheap and defeat the point of this.

Each person can see different things... Broken pieces of the pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, various broken mountains from Australia, portions of desert, the Roman Colluseum, broken sections of The Great Wall of China, Aztec Ruins, the "Hollywood" billboard letters... things like that. This area is basically the world broken, and the remnants of what is left. Regardless, there is one thing that everyone can see.

The castle. Far off, there is a single dark castle above a cliff. Various rock spires are around it randomly. There's a faint glow coming from the area of the castle, and the sky is blood red. This castle is the only thing that everyone sees, and for some reason (be it the glow, a feeling, a sense, or just process of elimination) everyone should head there. It's pretty far, and unless you write out a page and a half post, I doubt anyone would reach it that fast, nor meet up with anyone else.

The characters can assume they are each the last one left, or they will find everyone at the castle, or whichever, it's your choice. But simply put...

Everyone is seperate, and drawn toward the castle that appears miles off. Alot of time for internal dialogue and walking, passing broken monuments and such. Flying is alright, but no super speed. Sound simple enough? Good.

See you when you get there. Well... those that survive...



(Oh, and feel free to suggest background music. Anyone in need of the tracks I listed, you can hit up http://remix.overclocked.org for the OC Remixes, and KaZaa or WinMX for the others... or ask around.)

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Jun 12, 2003 10:50 am 
<font color=darkred><b>Lorem Ipsum
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OOC:hopefully my post should say all that needs to be said about mad's location and his state of Mind. well, on with it. /OOC

"....fucking shit..."

These are the first words spoken in the hodge-podge remenants of the shattered fiction that a handful of wild ideas loosely tied together by Character and Story call Reality. and they are spoken by a red-haired youth straining to sit up through the pounding headache he's suffering, as he tries to take in the fractured geography surrounding him.

A pair of wild, unnatural eyes open, and squint at the surroundings, mostly looking like trademark Australian bush,stunted gum trees, wiry shrubs, straggly grass only in patches, bark covered ground, with granite rocks sticking through...

Beyond the twisted trees, a dark night street can just be seen, slick with soft rain, falling from a black, empty sky. the street lights, and lights from the buildings flicker annoyingly, in time with the pounding of the man's aching head.

Groaning and getting to his feet, the man freezes as he sees someone walking through the bush out of the city, towards him. the tension doesn't go away when he sees who the person is.

"Muz?!" Madadric says, trying to blink the pain of the headache to the back of his consciousness as he focusses on his dead companion, who seems to be strolling towards him.

"something like that" The bald Bastard mutters as he leans agains a tree, near the ChaosBard/RuneScribe, who is busily sitting himself on a rock, clutching his pounding head.

"but you're..this sounds bad even as i say it...Dead."

"yeah. i am."

"oh good, because i'd hate to think that death had been circumvented just so you could sit here and confuse me while my brain tries to pound it's way out of my fucking skull" Mad quips sarcastically at his dead friend.

"well, if you're dead, why are you here? (wherever here is,)" mad asks.

"i'm not."

"what?" Mad says, looking up from the misery that is the reflection of his face in a puddle of water. "of course you're here, i'm talking to you, right here in fromt of me, you dumbass."

Muz sughs, in a way that speaks of familiarity, "i'm a hallucination" The bald man with icy blue eyes shrugs. 'i'm a figment of your dement3ed mind, you crazy fucking ape."

"oh," mad says sarcastically, slowly standing up. "of course."

The ChaosBard picks up the guitar that once belonged to the person the aparition nearby resembles, and begins walking off towards the city street, happy to find that the pounding in his head lessens as he moves on. the hallucination of his dead friend follows silently, as they both walk into the softly falling rain.

"wonder where the thell we- I am..." Madadric ponders as he slings the guitar on his back, and hunches as small as he can in the ragged black shirt he's still wearing.

"who knows," Muz says, looking around the street. 'this street could be from anywhere pretty much, but that bush back there was definitely from home..."

Mad nods, his head feeling a lot better now that he's moving. "it's like someone just grabbed bits from all over, threw them in a box, shook it all up, then poured it all into a big pile," Mad muses, seeing more Australian Bush at the end of the street. the runescribe grins, despite the rain trickling down his neck. "i like it, Random."

The two travel on for a while without words, Mad whistling along with Muz's humming, adding dischord's tune into the heavy tunes from the bald Bastard.

OOC: that'll do for now, more later, after a few others have thrown down./OOC


 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jun 13, 2003 1:04 pm 
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Joined: Tue May 14, 2002 5:00 pm
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Location: New York
"Oh, fuck. Not again."

Icy found himself in a cage in a laboratory. Not just any cage; not just any laboratory. The lab was one of Hyperspace's many animal testing labs, and the cage was the same cage that Icy had spent his early life in, during the experiments. The feeling of being trapped inside these cold metal bars brought back memories,memories that he had long since tried to forget. The pain. The anguish. Suddenly, Icy felt as if, in some real, tangible way, he was once again a frightened lab animal dreading the moment when the men in white coats would come for him again.

It was this very fear of being used which had initially caused Icy to loathe the Watchers. He had felt as if they were no better than the Hyperspace scientists who had tortured him. It was as if the Watchers were tormenting him, day by day, all in the name of some grand experiment. He had hated the idea of being confined and ordered around by the Watchers just as much as he had hated being confined and ordered around by the scientists so many years ago.

But only a few hours ago, at around the same time that he had managed to escape from the Hyperspace compound, something had changed inside him. He no longer felt the Watchers were a threat or an evil; neither did he think that they were a positive good. The Watchers were neither good nor evil; they just WERE, and there was nothing Icy could do to change this. Icy had never believed in free will anyway; it was just that now his actions were determined by Beings outside the universe rather than interactions between inanimate atoms and forces.

Icy could not curse his Watcher, for his Watcher had given him life; his Watcher had created him. Hating his Watcher was basically the equivalent of hating his life. He refused to hate his life, however terrible it had been. He refused to love his life, as well. He just accepted his life, and accepted whatever life handed him. At the moment, life was presenting him with a problem: how to get out of a locked cage.

He caught sight of a key laying on a table not far from where he was. Icy poked a hand through the bars, and, extending his long, simian index finger, pointed at the key. A shard of ice began to form over his finger; it grew longer and longer until finally it extended to the table. A hook formed at the end. Using this icehook Icy managed to get a hold of the keys and slid them down to his hand. In minutes the cage was unlocked and he was free.

Icy ran over to the door. It was also locked. However, using his ice powers, the monkey blasted through the wooden door with ease. On the other side he found something quite unexpected.

It was his lair. His headquarters. His home. The Monkey Cave. A giant underground fortress that would make any self-respecting mad scientist or evil genius cream his pants with joy.

"What the hell!?"

Icy walked over to the console of his supercomputer, with its giant viewing screen that dominated the main room. The screen was currently black. Icy tried turning it on, but the computer did not respond. After messing with the console for some time, Icy finally gave up, collapsing into his chair.

"Well fuck."

Almost as soon as he had said this, the computer screen lit up. On it was a news reporter. The reporter was interviewing a member of the military on the events of the past several days. The date and time at the bottom of the screen revealed that the interview had occurred only an hour or two ago. Of course, both the reporter and the general viewed the Expats as evil and a serious threat."Figures. Here we are, working hard to save the goddamn world, and everybody hates us. Why does shit like this always happen?"

"Do you deny that the American government is now under attack from not only the Expatriots but a secretive Cabal of nations plotting to overthrough the government."

"I do deny it, empathetically."

"You can't spell empathetic without pathetic you know. Who is Fold, isn't it true he is really working for the United States government to defeat the initial invasion force that is the Expatriots."

Icy could not help laughing. "So we're the villians and Fold's the hero? What the hell is wrong with this guy?"

The general seemed to share Icy's disbelief at the reporter's questions; the interview was abrubtly ended and the general exited the room.

"The people demand the truth!!!"

What happened next was somewhat unexpected.

"The general would like to apologize for his rude exit. He clearly lost his head."

"Fold..." Icy muttered, the horror in his voice apparent.

Icy watched the screen as Fold dismissed everyone but the reporter, including the camera men. Strangely, the screen still moved around, zoomed in and changed angles despite the absence of a crew. Icy was beginning to suspect that this wasn't actually a recording, but a direct representation of a previous event.

Almost immediately after the room was emptied the reporter fell to his knees, suffering from what looked to be a heart attack.

Icy did not want to see this. He tried to turn off the screen, but it didn't respond.

"Pl-please... I have... a wife.. preg..pregnant... two children..."

"I know you do. I just wrote it."


"I wrote it, you fucking idiot. You didn't believe the truth, and spread lies. You gave empty characters hope in a future that doesn't exist. Jim... your wife just had a miscarriage, I am sorry to say. Sad state, really."

Icy desperately pounded on the controls, trying to get the image off the screen. He had seen enough death and destruction at the hands of Fold; he did not want to be tortured by reminders of Fold's heartlessness anymore.

"NO!" Icy shouted in an insane rage. "NO! I DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS!"


Icy grabbed a nearby piece of large equipment.

The screen moved to a closeup of Fold's face.

"Why? WHY?!? Why NOT!!"

Icy hurled the large metal object at the image, and Fold's face was replaced by pieces of broken glass and sparks of electricity arcing across the surface of the shattered screen.

Too much death. Too much destruction. And now, the world Icy had lived in... and everyone he cared for... were gone. Or were they? What did Fold want from him?

Icy rushed out of the main room of the Monkey Cave and through a hallway into what should have been the silo where his mech was stored. But the silo was not there. Instead, he was in... a rainforest. It reminded Icy of the South American rainforest where he had been captured by the poachers so many years ago. And yet, something else about the forest seemed familiar. He felt, for some strange reason, that this was his true home, much more than the Hyperspace laboratory or the Monkey Cave had ever been. Perhaps... perhaps this was the jungle where he was born?

Icy leaped into the nearest tree, climbing up the trunk with simian grace. Leaping from branch to branch, he traversed the canopy until he came to an especially tall tree. Climbing to the top of it he was able to get a better view of his surroundings.

Apparently, the rainforest ended very abruptly a few miles from where he currently was, turning almost immediately into an arid desert. Even further off, three giant pyramids rose above the desert sands. Icy recognized these as the Pyramids of Giza. The giant Egyptian Sphinx lay nearby. At the very top of the largest of the pyramids - The Great Pyramid of Giza - stood the Wrath of the Proletariat, glinting in the starlight.

Icy had to get the mech. That way, he could fly around the area, exploring this new world he had been placed in, and, hopefully, he would find Fold and destroy him. Icy remembered the prophecy - Perhaps, somehow, Fold was the fire mage. In that case, it may very well be up to Icy to kill Fold.

But even if he did, what then? What use was Fold's death when the damage had already been done? What was the point of saving a world that was already shattered beyond repair?

Icy stared thoughtfully at the far off pyramids. Such questions did not matter now. Icy had a job to do, and that job was to destroy the man who had annihilated everything he loved and cherished. He would be able to deal with the aftermath later. Icy leaped from the top of the tree, falling back into the canopy. Thus began his long journey through the treetops.

[EDIT: Took out the bit about the pyramids looking new, and added something about the image Icy was watching on the screen not being a recording. (It couldn't have been, since the transmission had been stopped and the camera crew had left.]

Last edited by IcyMonkey on Fri Jun 13, 2003 10:43 pm, edited 2 times in total.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jun 13, 2003 2:40 pm 
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Location: Allentown, PA

Kitsune shot bolt upright, screaming in terror. “Am I . . . dead? Fold dropped a nuclear warhead on me, there shouldn’t be any reason I’m still alive . . . Oh, God, he’s more insane than ANY of us realized . . .” He turned to look around. “No . . .”

New York. Or what would have been New York. Kit stood up slowly, taking in the devastation. His foot slipped in a puddle, and he looked down quizzically, then back up, realization flooding his features as the harbor must have done to New York only moments ago. In fact, now that Kit knew what to look for, he could see it.

The Empire State Building. The Statue of Liberty. The September 11th Memorial. God in heaven, they were gone. Fallen. Some force had hit New York, strong enough to tear the very buildings of New York from their foundations. The tidal wave took care of what was left.

Kitsune stepped carefully over the twisted, jagged husks of metal lying across the street, ignoring the swish of water pooling around them and down into the sewers. He couldn’t deal with this.

“MiaoMing, where are you?” he whispered. “I need you . . .” Then the realization hit him. Fold had . . . oh God, what if he was the only one to survive the blast? What if MiaoMing were dead?

“My life . . . NO!” He clutched at his head, and sank to his knees. “I won’t believe it! I can’t! She can’t be dead!” He looked up into the sky, dark now without a sun. And he swore he could feel just a faint chill . . . “Fold, you bastard. I’ll find a way to make you pay for this.”

“Then why don’t you go and find him?” Orochi’s disembodied voice mocked. “You can, you know. All you have to do is follow the road he gave you, right into his waiting arms.”

“Shut up, Orochi! You’re not real! You no longer exist! I killed you!”

“Ah, but who was it who said that the soul is eternal? I’m here to stay. Besides, inside the mind of my greatest creation isn’t such a bad place to end up. Oh, the secrets I could tell you about yourself . . .”

“I don’t care! Go away! Can’t you see I want to be alone!”

“Oh, of course. That’s why I’m here. I AM you, now. So technically, you are alone, you’re just talking to yourself.”

Kitsune realized that Orochi was right. Orochi’s voice . . . was . . . coming from his own lips.

“No,” he said.

“Yes,” Orochi said. “I’m you. How’s it feel to have Dissassociative Identity Disorder? Must be interesting. I’ll have to see how you do view it.” Then his presence was gone.

Kitsune fell to his back, panting, and began to cry.

“MiaoMing . . . all I ever wanted was for us to be happy. To grow old together, to live forever, to have children, to eat our favorite foods and damn the weight gain that might cause . . . I wanted paradise for you, ‘Ming. I wanted to see you happy. And then I would have been happy too.” Hot tears rolled down his cheek, splashed to the street. “I wouldn’t have cared if it was just someone’s story . . . I’m past that, now. Whatever Fold thinks the story is I could care less. I just want . . . to be happy. Was that so much to ask? Is it too much for an Expatriate to ask for forgiveness, for peace of mind?”

Orochi’s presence filled his mind again. “Of course it is, you pathetic emotional rag doll. I would have hoped for better from my own son.”

“I’m not your son,” Kit said. He was surprised at how dead his voice sounded. It was as if all the color had been sucked out of a picture. “I’m no one’s son. I’m a bastard child, and you know it. No one gave birth to me—I was just some lab creation. You only oversaw my development. You and I, we share memories. It’s not a one-way street. Don’t talk to me like I’m some piece of you. I’d rather die.”

Orochi grinned. Kit noted absently that since Orochi didn’t exist, it was actually Kit who grinned. “Well, if you lie here forever, you will die. But that’s hardly a death befitting my finest creation.”

“Fuck off,” Kit said. “There’s no sun anymore. I’m in no danger of dying yet.”

“Yet,” said Orochi. “But you’ll need food eventually.”

“Then I’ll get up. But go away. I need to think.”

“My own son, bemoaning the hand fate has dealt him. I feel ashamed.”

“I’ll say it again: Fuck. Off. I don’t want you around.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Orochi sighed, then left anyway, his presence fading.

Kit snarled, slamming his hand against the street. He sat up and pushed himself to his feet. “Goddammit, I’m going insane. It’s the only reasonable explanation. Orochi’s dead, and he speaks with my mouth. Fuck. I’m losing it, I’m losing it . . . and there’s no one to help me. Everyone else is dead. Everyone but me is dead. These streets are empty as a crypt. There’d be at least someone on them if people had survived the blast. Fold killed everyone on the planet, and all I could do was stand around and watch. What good is a hero, if he can’t save those he protects?”

He kicked an office chair out of his path, sticking his hands in his pockets and sighing. “God, I am SUCH a fuckup. Oh hell, I’m a lunatic.”

He reached an intersection, then turned left, looking at his feet. So he was surprised when the road turned to mud. His eyes widened, and he looked around in astonishment. Behind him lay the street, but plants were rapidly overtaking it. He looked forward, and saw the Native American ruins of Machu Picchu. “What the hell?”

He took a step forward, felt the ground squelch underfoot. “This can’t be right . . . I was just in New York a second ago.” He kept walking, then broke into a run. Maybe there was someone alive here.

The moment he considered the possibility he knew it was wrong. It wasn’t like Fold to leave a job half-done. There probably wasn’t a soul left alive on the whole planet. Which raised the question: Why was he still alive? Kit shook his head. “Somewhere there has to be a trace of civilization,” he said.

He reached the temple and began to climb the steps, taking them two at a time. By the time he reached the top, he was panting.

“God, how many steps was that?” What did it matter? It wasn’t like time made any difference now.

He took one look at the darkness inside the entrance and decided he’d look around first. Something seemed dangerous about it. Not that he could be worried; he was already supposed to be dead anyway, so he doubted anything inside was life-threatening. He just didn’t want to have to deal with it right now. So he went around the sides, looking off into the distance. Which really wasn’t much; about three or four miles out, the mud changed to desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, except for an almost-covered strip of cracked street and a barely-visible strip of blue water on the tip of the horizon.

He walked around the corner to the back of the temple, and he gasped. He had no idea how he could have missed it looking around before. The building must have blocked his view before.

The darkened sunless sky brightened off in the distance to a deep blood red glow, illuminating a structure Kit could never have imagined: like something out of a madman’s nightmares, a gigantic castle rose into the air, piercing what clouds there were left in this empty world. Gigantic spires of rock jutted up into the sky around it, creating a sense of foreboding that not even the worst of Hyperspace’s tricks matched in Kitsune’s memories.

There was only one person who could possibly be in that castle. Only one whose mental landscape could have created this fractured vision that surrounded Kitsune. Fold had remade the world in his mental image, and placed himself in command in the most obvious way.

“Ruler over nothing, are you, Fold?” Kitsune whispered mockingly. “You got your wish, didn’t you? Now all you have left is your own mind, and me. I wonder which one will kill you first.” He turned to look back at the temple. Whatever secrets it held would have to wait another day.

His stomach growled. “Oh, great. I’m hungry.”

“What do you expect? You haven’t eaten in days.” Orochi was back from wherever he went when not bothering Kitsune.

“If you’re trying to drive me insane, surely you realize how short a time that will take. Why don’t you find something better to do? Go fuck with someone else’s mind.”

“I wish I could. Your brain is pathetically single-minded.”

“You don’t quit.” Kit clutched at his stomach. “I need some food or water . . .”

“Why don’t you try inside the temple?”

Kit tried to find a good argument against it, but couldn’t come up with one. He didn’t know what plants were poisonous in this place, and he had nothing to lose by checking inside.

“Damn you.” Kit walked back around to the front, went inside the temple . . .

. . . and found himself outside the original Hyperspace headquarters, in Chicago. Complete with fancy, stylized HS logo above the entrance. Kit grimaced.

“You knew I’d end up here, didn’t you.”

“No, not really. But I had an educated guess. I do know what’s on every floor. There’s liable to be food in there somewhere.”

“If there is, I’m taking extra. Now that I know where Fold is, I intend to get there eventually, and I don’t intend to have to stop anytime again.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Orochi said, turning to look down the street. Kit’s eyes widened.

“It’s here, too? What the hell is going on?”

Orochi shrugged. “It must be big enough to be seen anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere. Or maybe the Earth is now flat. There’s no more sun, so there’s not likely to be any moon either. Who knows how the universe works anymore.”

“. . . I don’t want to think about that. Let’s just get some food and get back on our way.”

Kit shook his head, hoped he wouldn’t end up someplace else again, and pushed open the doors of the Hyperspace building.

He stayed in the same place, and stumbled backwards at the memories seeing the lobby brought forth. This place had ghosts, all right. Orochi was only one of them.

“Familiar surroundings.”

“Just show me where the food is, dammit.”

An hour later, Kit walked back out of the Hyperspace building with a knapsack full of food, even if some of it was a little stale, and a stomach that was no longer growling. He turned to the castle, and began walking towards it.

“You’ll never get there at this speed. Try jogging.”

“With all this food? Try another leg. I’ll get faster as I get used to the pack. Until then, shut up.”

Kit hefted the bag on his shoulder, and kept walking, steadily increasing his speed every fifteen or so minutes. He couldn’t be exact—he’d lost his watch somewhere along the line, and there wasn’t any sun anyway. Who knew if the magnetic field of the earth remained the same any more?

And so Kit kept walking, time losing all meaning, till the increase in speed was just something he did. He didn’t even notice when he broke into a jog, and, later on, a run.

He just knew he had to get to the castle.

OOC: Can you say, "Fucking long post?" I knew you could. Eh, there was a lot of stuff I felt I wanted covered, and I didn't want to break it into itty-bitty posts. This'll be my last post for a long while anyway. Not much I left open for Kit. Maybe only one or two shorter posts for him before he reaches the castle, so I intend to space things out a lot. This should cover him for that time, I'd say. /OOC

I'm too damn pretty to die.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jun 13, 2003 4:07 pm 

Joined: Thu Jun 27, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 1095
Location: Hell a.k.a. Georgia
Sand. That was the first thing Vandal recognized. He was lying in a patch of sand. A raucous squawking noise was sounding just above his head, seemingly aimed in his direction. Moving slowly, he raised his head, his eyes opening slowly, and the beginnings of a headache stirring somewhere in his skull. His first sight was exactly hopeful. The buzzard clacked its ugly beak at him once more before launching itself away with the same noisome call that had woken the former marine.

As he straightened himself, raising slowly to first his knees, then his feet, Vandal took in his surroundings. Sand. Lots of it. Red sand. And some really big cacti. He knew the area, easily recognized it actually, but he couldn’t believe it. Last thing he remembered was the farm. And Fold’s little show, with a nuke for a finale. The bastard had blown them all sky-high. Of course, that didn’t explain why he was somewhere in the middle of an Arizona desert. By himself.

“The Runes… has to be. Somehow they kicked in at the last second, and saved my ass. But that would mean… aw no… surely somehow… if I can survive this surely mad and Kit could as well… but the others… MiaoMing, Riuku, Icy… what happened to them…”

Vandal let his voice trail off, knowing the speculation would only serve to make him angrier than he was already. He could feel he dancing strength just under his skin. It was eager. It wanted to be free, to emerge in an unholy wave of destruction. Not yet. Vandal’s hands clenched at his sides, balling into fists. He knew the knuckles on each hand would be white without having to look. He could feel the Runes… but different. They had changed. He wore nothing but the white wife beater shirt and jeans now, his exposed body showing each of the silvery marks on his skin. But now… they were… joined? Small traceries could be seen, connecting the varying runes one to another, creating a web work of fine silvery lines covering his arms and torso.

Discord. The chaos unleashed in the blast of magic had somehow altered his Rune markings. The backlash from the convergence of Discord’s music and the flaring of power from his own Rune of Law had done something to him. Vandal shook his head, tossing his thoughts away like water from a dog’s back. Later, there would be time.

In the distance he could see a city, its gleaming glass and metal buildings calling to him. Phoenix, or maybe he was New Mexico, looking at Albuquerque. He would find out soon enough. Vandal began the long walk, his head lowered as he made his way towards the gleaming beacon in the distance. It was that which made him pause. Gleaming from what? No sunlight shone down on the desert land under his feet. But something was there, in the distance. The deep red gleam of something called to him, mistaken at first as only a reflection, he knew it was something different now. Gritting his teeth, he continued on, making his way towards the calling of the light in front of him.

"Like a game of pick up sticks,
played by fucking lunatics"

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Jun 13, 2003 11:59 pm 
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Joined: Sun Jun 23, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 2225
Location: America
Looks like you just wasn't good enough.....

Slowly but surely the blackness left his vision and wolf awoke. The rage inside him awaking him, fueled from the statement that seemed like somebody had imprinted in the back of his brain. "Grrr, wish I knew what the hell I wasn't good enough for." He suddenly wished he hadn't tried to remember. It stayed at the back of his mind but he knew what it was. Trying to bury the knowledge only made the things that you didn't want to more blatant. He had failed pure and simple.

He didn't need his memory to tell him that. Rising to his feet he could see all around him were the broken and cracked hulks of skyscrapers. Spinning around Wolf realized that he was standing in the center of some park, giving the surroundings the presence of a graveyard. All of it silent testaments to his failure.
You failed and now they are all dead.
"What could I have done?" Wolf said falling to his knees.
You could have done something!Now look around! Because of you the entire earth is dead! He nuked it all!
Standing up Wolf brought himself up to his full height.
"No, this isn't the result of a nuclear strike. This is something else."
You still failed. Now the pack you swore to protect is dead and gone...

With a crack like explosion, the tree nearest wolf shattered into splinters and fell on it's side. Slowly lowering his outstretched fist wolf looked on past the broken ruins.The pain in his hand and the purpose filling him silenced the words in his mind.
"I may have failed in my duty to protect. But I will not fail in my duty to take revenge. I don't know why I am still alive but I will make sure Fold regrets that I still live."
As his gaze took him above the outline of the city wolf spotted the castle.
Perched on a cliff above all the ruins it was at the center of all the destruction. Without another word Wolf slowly began walking toward it.

It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations.
Sir Winston Churchill, My Early Life, 1930

 Post subject: Adric The Mad. monster post...
PostPosted: Sat Jun 14, 2003 1:47 pm 
<font color=darkred><b>Lorem Ipsum
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Joined: Sat Apr 13, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 3342
Location: ich bin ein Auslander
Madadric stifles a yawn as he plods on through another stretch of australian bush, after having walked along another rain-slicked city street.

"FUUUUUUCK This is boring!" the ChaosBard snarls out loud, looking up through the trees.

"what's your problem?" Muz asks, still walking unhurriedly along next to Mad. "the scenery changes regularly,"

"but that's all there is, Scenery! it's fucking boring. I must be dead, because this shit has got to be Hell."

The hallucination laughs. "oh, i'm sure that whatever Hell there is can do better than this. In fact, i'm probably finding out exactly what that is right now."

At this, Mad too grins. "haha, well, if'e there's anyone that deserves hell as much as i do, it's probably you...we used to run pretty riot Way Back When..."

Muz nods, as though he is looking back on memories of a time where passion was more readily available, and the threat of death was just another game. "if i were real, it'd take me back. it was only with you and that other kid Ez that i ever got to play my guts out, and scream 'till my throat was raw, consequences be damned. i still remember what you said when we escaped, and we asked What Now?,"

Mad grins at the memory, savouring the nostalgic taste of newly-won freedom, and the endless, wild possibilities that had laid in front of them.

"Whatever the Hell We WANT."

Mad suddenly stops, and is broken out of his reverie, as he looks up through a gap in the trees, and sees a monument to Madness, but not his madness. The massive spire ahead of him is an inspired nightmare of collected oddities, and it's bizzareness twists the eye and mind both in on themselves, but there is no way it is a creation of Adric The Mad, there is still an underlying order,precision to it, that it would lack, had it been Mad's.

"that can only be one person's." mad says, staring at the structure off in the far distance.

"the bastard that killed me. were i really here right now, i'd insist we get our asses there and you get some revenge for him making killing me look so fucking easy."

Mad laughs out loud at this, and looks at Muz from under his long, scruffy fringe.

"you really are a bastard. can't even let me enjoy the illusion that this might really be you standing here in front of me."

"some people never change i guess. even when it's not really them."

And with a Shrug, Muz, the Bald Bastard, or the hallucination that was him, vanishes.

Mad returns to staring at the spire of malice off in the distance, and he feels familiar old sensations welling up withing, and mixing with the new, vibrant power of the recently created/awakened Dischord, still screaming through his jumbled pshyche.

"that's right. there's someone i gotta go find, and iv'e gotta fight that fucker with everything i got."

but not for all those dead Humans, oh no! laughs the little puppet, back once again, and cavorting in front of the red-haired figure, standing alone in a shattered world. not even for your friends, the Expatriates you vowed to fight with! not even your dead Friend Muz So'Soth!

"no, not for them." Madadric says, grinning and removing the tattered remains of his shirt, and revealing the scabbed scars that still cover his torso and back, a few of the softly glowing red in sympathy with the ones on the nearby guitar.

"Not for any of them, although they deserve it."

As the runescribe undoes his bloody, dirty jeans, and pulls them and his underwear off over his bare feet, the puppet continues.

not even for that crazy bitch that hid you from us for so long, although she did not know it. Not even for the one that almost saved your soul, and is now surely rotting in hell for i-

The small fragment of psychosis that was the puppet Jagged never finished that sentence, as it's metaphysical existance was hammered into nothing by the fist of the now completely naked ChaosBard slamming it into the mud and crushing it with forcve that could have shattered even the sturdiest of skulls.

"NO-ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT, LEAST OF ALL YOU!" The ChaosBard continues to pound the earth where the -psychosis was, howling at the top of his lungs, as lightning and rain begin to fall from a featureless sky, making his body shine and glint in the jagged forks of light.


Now with thunderous rage, and the trip-hammer beat of Dischord flooding through his entire mortal body, Adric the mad stands, and glares defiantly at the tower in the distance.

"so, i'm coming." the man growls, sounding more like a beast, but not a beast of earth, "i'm coming to you, but it's not for her, it's not for muz, it's not even for all of the millions of lives, fictional or otherwise you snuffed out with complete disregard."

"it's because you're the only one, THE ONLY FUCKING ONE, iv'e ever come across, whom i can let loose with all i have, GO COMPLETELY WILD, and still have something left to rage at."

"youv'e removed all the stops, all the barriers, and i'm going to thank you for that, with my fists and my teeth and my screaming bloody soul. We'll sing the song of Creation and Destruction 'till Heaven and Hell themselves beg us to stop, and as their pleas fall on deaf ears, i will carve my decleration into creation itself."

"with everything that is, was, and shall ever be, I DEFY YOU, FOLD."

With that, Adric the Mad, and elemental psyche with the elemental powers of the twisting song of creation and destruction, Chaos, with Dischord weildel like some pointy club, leaps into the low branches of the nearest gum tree, and hurles with alarming speed towards the tower, holing and cackling like all the Mad Things that have hidden in a metaphysical forest in the center of a terrified young boy's mind.

OOC: well, i layed the melodrama on pretty thinck in here, but it's nearly 7AM and i am yet to sleep, and dammit, Mad's had this brewing for a very long time. Adric The Mad is back in full swing, and while his reversion may not be permanent, and reason may make a few brief showings, (if the right stimuli are introduced,) wanton destruction and creation will commence from here.

Some small-fry minions of some sort before the Grand Finale would be appreciated, Mr. Fold. /OOC


 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Jun 14, 2003 3:28 pm 

Joined: Thu Jun 27, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 1095
Location: Hell a.k.a. Georgia
The city grew up gradually around him as he walked, signs and buildings that had stood there for seemingly decades watched uncaringly as he trudged past them. Funny thing was, they weren't in english. Not spanish either. Vandal hadn't believed it at first, but he'd be damned if every single sign he saw wasn't in Japanese. It was mind boggling. Especially as he drew closer to the city, and began to recognise it from being stationed in Okinawa for two years. It was Tokyo. The heart of the Japanese nation, and the mecca of anime fanboys everywhere. Cracked and broken city streets now passed under his boots as he made his way along. Not a single soul moved within the great hulk of the city. Twisted and smashed wreckage of cars and trucks dotted the streets.

It took a while for him to recognise what was wrong with the place, besides the obvious. It was the architecture. Some rather distincly foreign buildings stood amidst the oriental metropolis. A bright neon sign, inexplicably still lit proclaimed "The Court Street Grill and Bar" next door to what he found out used to be a bath house. A quick rummage of the bar had turned up a few packs of cigarettes, and the remnants of a whiskey bottle, enough for one last shot.

It didn't end there. Further into the city the streets abruptly became cobblestoned, and sloped away in a number of hills. A mirror of the streets of San Francisco. For all intents and purposes, it looked like someone had picked up a piece of San Fran, and slammed it together with a piece of Tokyo like a pair of mismatched jigsaw pieces . And dropped the entirety of it in the middle of the Arizona desert.

Of course, the Egyptian Obelisk that stood outside the Louvre museum in Paris shouldn't have been sitting in front of him either. But it was. Polished stone, carved with heiroglyphs hundreds of years old stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of some large green park that he didn't recall being in either city. closest thing he could place it as was Hyde Park, in London, or maybe part of Central Park in NYC. He wasn't sure of this one.

But it was this spot that offered him his first view of the castle. It sat on the horizon like an ugly spear thrust upwards from the earth's bosom, red light like blood cascading around it. Misshapen and ominous, it stood as a monument to the only person who could have created it, the one being who held the power in his hands now. Fold. Everything about the twisted mockery of a world rang true with the man's being.

It was time to finish this game. This grotesque work of fiction Fold had created. He stopped only to pull a jacket from what appeared to be an anime related clothing store, it's signs written in the cyrillic alphabet. Brown leather, an airbrushed picture of Alita, the Battle Angel on the back. sliding into the cold fabric, he turned towards the horizon, and began to walk. Towards Fate.

"Like a game of pick up sticks,
played by fucking lunatics"

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Jun 14, 2003 11:46 pm 
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Joined: Wed May 22, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 385
Location: Yonder
(Cue up: Children of the Monkey Machine - Chrono Trigger Ruined World (Eternal Derelict) OC Remix (((AKA: Eternal Derelict)))

Sand has a way of drying the mind... or does it? Same endless highway... same endless rain. Even with the annihilation of the world, Blue's avenue across the lonely road remains nearly completely unchanged. No sun peeks through the black clouds, and the rain continues to pour. Every so often a flash of crimson lightning would dart across the sky, and every so often the rumble of thunder would shake the road just slightly. Cigarette still hanging from his lips, Blue's hands grasp the wheel, his muddy boots at the pedals. The kitten, the pure and innocent, likely the only such left in the world now, lies curled up, napping and purring softly in the pickup's passenger seat. Blue tilts his head, ears drooping slightly and his hair drying, smiling at the kitten a moment before turning his eyes back to the road.

Those eyes, emerald orbs, faint spark of light... love... hope? Or just life... resting deep within. Yet he concentrates, oblivious to the world, oblivious to the ruins far off to the side of the road. Another flash of lightning reveals Big Ben, tilting parllel to the tower of Pisa, unearthly red covering them for an instant and then giving them away to their shadows. Even the road changes, the surface shifting from pavement to cement to tiled brick and back to cement again. A continued drive, though, Blue's eyes seeing nothing but road and rain, not even a single deviation of the roadway meets his sight.

Yet... the clouds part... the sunlight... fails to come. A deep crimson the sky appears as the clouds slowly dissipate. As if the road were built to go there, the path ahead of Blue disappears into the distance, only to meet a castle, a veritable citadel, even if only the tips are visible from so far. He looks up from the wheel, everything slowly coming into focus now. The road stretching before him bears the variations from different ages and cultures, ruins of cities off to the side of the road, all of them jumbled up and bearing no specific creator or architectural style. Almost as if everything had just melted together, save the road and the path, leaving only one way to go... towards the castle. The water on the road gleams with the dark crimson, and though Blue's foot on the pedal lightens momentarily, his speed remains constant as he jams it back down. His radio crackles, broadcasts varying from World War 2 and Vietnam to the Gulf War, mixes of music going in and out...

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jun 15, 2003 1:00 am 
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Joined: Wed Sep 04, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 1282
Location: Shrödinger's box
Miao shook her head groggily and sat up on her bed. The Taiwanese apartment was uncharacteristically silent. Where was Tiffany? she wondered. Probably in jail waiting for me to bail her out after getting into a bar fight with some random drunk trying to chat her up. Miao sighed. Her roomie wasn't called ViolentGirl for nothing...

She went to the kitchen to fix herself breakfast and idly looked out the window beside the sink. The familiar view of cramped buildings and narrow, dingy streets was replaced by a snowscape interspersed with broken buildings and betel nut trees. What the... Memory rushed back, and Miao sat down hard on the kitchen floor. Fold... Antenor... those horrible images... the explosion... Kit! Fear surged through her, and she tried to quash it. If I've survived, then Kit's certainly survived, and he'll come looking for me. She refused to think of the alternative.

She went to the balcony outside her bedroom to take a good look around. On the side toward the kitchen was the vast, snow-covered plain, which seemed to slope upward vaguely. Two stories under her feet, it ended abruptly and promptly segued into what looked like the highlands of Scotland and Peru mashed together. Miao looked back at the snowscape, inexplicably fascinated... wait. She shaded her eyes, peering into the distance. A black thing, too angular to be a cloud... a castle? Miao shook her head. Now this was too much... She pinched herself hard. "OW!"

The sound echoed in the eerie silence. Shivering a little, Miao stepped back into her bedroom. I suppose I could stay here and hope that Kit can find me... As she voiced that thought to herself, however, the fascination of before grew into a longing to get to the castle, as quickly as possible. Oh, why the hell not. Who knew where any of the Expatriates were. Maybe the castle would hold a clue. As Miao rationalized to herself, she packed swiftly, cramming her backpack full of food, clothing, and other essentials. Just before she zipped the pack shut, slhe slipped a photo of her and Kit, taken at a carnival, into an inner pocket. She slung the pack onto her back, then jumped off the balcony into the snow and started trudging towards the castle, humming a Taiwanese walking song under her breath.

"I just want to know why guys will talk about boobs, but rarely talk about anything else when it comes to girls! What makes them talk about boobs? What makes boobs so interesting?"
"Because talking about vaginas is even less socially acceptable."

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jun 15, 2003 1:20 am 
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Joined: Mon Oct 28, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 112
-= Cue up: "Sneaker Pimps - Roll On (Fold Mix)" =-

"Dawn... my dawn..." Fold thought. "The beginning... the end."

Light rain spattered the roof thick stone around Fold. High atop the castle that was to be the very core of this final battle, Fold lay on his back, one arm propped behind his head, staring at the sky. He let out a sigh and shifted his legs.

"What does it matter, anyway... they won't understand it." Closing his eyes, Fold wiped away a little dampness from his upper lip with his free hand, seeming not to care that the rain would replace it. All around the faint splashing echoed off the castle walls. He sighed once more and rested his hand upon his bare chest. "But why should I care. If it suits my purpose then everything works out well. Just so long as they don't fuck everything up."

As the rain went on about him, Fold just lay there, pondering many things to himself. Then, abruptly, he shook his head slightly and reopened his eyes. "Nevermind that now... it's time to look in on the Super Friends..."

With that, Fold raised his free hand above his head, still resting back. As if stopped by an invisible umbrella, the rain directly above him spattered and held. As the rain held there, more drops adding to it, it bled outward creating a liquid screen. As he moved his fingers to an unheard beat, various images began to melt in and out of the water above Fold's head.

Icy in the treetops, moving faster with each leap. Kit arguing with himself as he exited the Hyperspace building. Wolf working his way towards the castle, reflexively rubbing at the pain in his hand. Vandal pulling a jacket from a ruined storefront. Mad slamming his fist into the mud.

At this, Fold stopped. Holding the gently rippling image a moment, he waved his hand...


Fold smiled and propped himself up, looking deeper into the image as the ChaosBard, now completely devoid of his clothing, continued screaming. Scratching at his chin, Fold's smile curled slightly at one side, and he stood, making sure not to disturb the surface of his screen. He walked to the edge of the castle wall and looked out in the direction he knew Mad to be in.

"So... he's still going on about her, is he?" Fold threw his hands into the air, his head tilting back as a laugh built up and tore into the sky. Quickly as it had began, though, the laugh died down, and Fold turned back to the screen. "Well... let's see now, shall we?"

Slowly he walked back to the image, still held in place and faintly rippling as more rain added to its mass. From above, Fold could see the scene still playing out, though mirror imposed. His face contorted into a scowl, and Fold brought his hands together, locking his fingers into a joined fist. Then, raising his arms above his head, he let out a shout and brought his hands down forcefully.

With a loud pop, the liquid screen burst, water flying every which way...

...as from the center of it, Luci fell onto the spot where Fold had been lying moments ago. She quickly turned on her side, letting out a cough of water.

Fold only stood there, grinning wickedly and staring down at her.

"You should have joined me willingly, dear Adric..."



So, there we go... Nothing more to be said that can't be assumed. Not that it would be correct... but that makes it more fun, now doesn't it?


So be it.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Jun 16, 2003 2:35 am 
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Joined: Sun Dec 09, 2001 5:00 pm
Posts: 1470
Location: Belgium
Rand had screamed angrily. Fold had tricked them again, and had used puppets to try to silence the people. Last thing he remembered was that some kind of missile had headed their way. There was a brief pang of satisfaction that they were dangerous enough for Fold to warrant such displays of power.

And it had failed. Rand didn't know where he was, but he was still alive. he didn't quite understand how this was possible but he could figure that out later. What was important now was to find the Class Enemy and defeat him. And find his comrades. If only he could see something, or hear something. He couldn't properly fight in a situation like this.

And then Rand opened his eyes. He was standing in what looked like some kind of military camp. Soldiers were everywhere. Barbed wire was omnipresent. There was no sound. Rand grabbed his sickle. army dogs! He charged one of them with his sickle, but to his frustration passed right through him. He tried again a few times, with no succes. It was then that he started looking at the uniforms. Those were not the uniforms of American Army troops. Then he saw the Swastika's on some people's arms.

nazis! Well, it was to be expected that Fold and the other masters would use them as well. Why can't I hit them?

A group of people, looking starved and desperate were brought to the door of a shack, several soldiers guarding them. One man, who looked like an officer, spoke to the leader of the guards. Still clutching his sickle in rage, Rand studied the face so he might better find him mater. There was something familiar about the man, but Rand couldn't quite find out what. He then heard the sound of someone breathing. In the silence of the busy camp, Rand's attention was pulled to another corner. Someone was standing there, looking as out of place as he did. In fact, he was clothed the same way, had the same hair. Looked like him, only younger. He was staring in horror at the scene in front of him, shaking his head and mouthing no-no all over again. His eyes were fixed on the officer.

Rand turned to the officer again. He was now ordering all the dissheveled men to enter the small building. An unpleasant smile was on his lips. After the last one entered, he went in himself and closed the door after him. Some of the soldiers looked like they laughed, others edged away from the building a bit. Rand turned to the other, his younger self again. Perhaps he knew what was going on. When he looked at him again he had fallen on his knees though, clutching his head. Rand made a step closer. Then everything faded.

When the image returned, Rand was standing in a place that he knew well enough. The park in Brussels. His 'birthplace' After a few seconds he was someone coming. It was the younger him again, covered in blood. Rand spoke to him, but his words sounded oddly out of place. He noticed that the footsteps of the boy made no sound.

"What is the meaning of this show? I have no time for this. Tyranny is still unfought!"

The boy looked around as if he were chased, terror in his eyes. It didn't look like anyone was approaching but the look didn't go away. The boy made it to a puddle and looked at his reflection in the water. His face was covered in blood. With what looked like a scream he muddled the water, then tried to wash some of the blood off. After a short while it stopped though, and the vision walked to a park bench and curled up on it. Rand went closer and inspected the boy. It looked like he was sobbing himself asleep. Then the eyes suddenly opened again.

The figure sat himself straight on the bench and rubbed his head, then looked at his hands that were sticky with caked blood and dirt in surprise. he then shrugged and got up to his feet. His mouth opened without sound. But Rand knew what he was saying. His first moments of disorientation. Any moment know he'd... yes.

The figure seemed to reach for something in the inner pocket of his bomber jacket. He took out a leaflet, his hands staining it with blood. As he read it he nodded, and the look of confusion gave way to a self-assured look. Rand allowed himself a smile. It was good to look back on himself, but he had no time...

Another sound caused him to turn around. From behind a park bench on the other side of the path, the younger him was looking. The sound had been a sob from him. He looked at the other figure with a look of utter despair. Once again Rand made a step towards him.

And then everything ripped.<Image, sound and smell.

Rand was still in the park, but the other Rand was gone. He made another step and noticed that the ground was now reacting to the footstep. He could hear noise on the background. Rand took his sickle and sliced at a tree. A small piece of bark fell off.

"Well, at least I can properly rebel again."

He then looked around. It was still the park, but it looked different. The changes that indicated 8 years's passing were subtle but... the benches looked in disrepair, many trees had fallen, the grass was growing wild. The sounds of Brussels, that should have been clearly audible even here, were much too soft. He couldn't hear a single voice.

"What is going on here?"

Proud Member of the cult of Godless commie traitors.

Wait, this isn't chewing gum!

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Jun 16, 2003 4:05 am 
Spawn of Kyhm and D
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Joined: Fri Nov 01, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 4498
Location: Australia
-= Cue up: "Scudelia Electro - Kir Royal!" =-

Lightning played across the darkened sky, glowing sheets flashing in the clouds, seemingly random patterns, caused by the upper portion of a cloud being postively charged, whilst the lower portion carried a negative charge. As the storm raged on, the charges increased, until the repulsion of electrons caused the earth's surface to acquire a strong positive charge. The electrical field was self-sufficient enough to create a conductive path, and the negative cloud bottom made contact with the positive earth surface. This is how Ezelek always saw such things. Others would just see light and energy descending from the heavens, smashing into the ground. Sometimes, he envied them. A quick glance around had told him where he was... or thought he was, because the enviroment seemed to flicker and almost change with every step he took. The Great Wall beside him, once a Wonder of the World, now nothing more than a crumbling wreck of masonry.

"So..." He mused, some of his grey hair falling across his face, obscuring his sight. He didn't bother to move his hand to brush it out of the way, even though he couldn't see, a moment's glance was all he needed to be able to memorize everything in his field of vision. Slipping one hand into his pocket, he let the other one run across the debris that was left beside him, feeling the cool roughness of the rock underneath his fingertips. "It seems that Fold is a modern day Mongol, knocking down this wall..." He smiled, a smirk, amused at the events so far. "I wonder if this was chance... But no, there's too much order to it. It's too precise." He allowed his mind to wander back across the images that Fold had forced into his, and everyone elses' minds, carefully filing them away for future reference. So far, Fold had been one step ahead of everyone else, and Ezelek liked that. He didn't care that Fold had broken the world. He didn't care that Fold had killed, and probably will kill, hundreds upon thousands of people. He didn't care that the entire world had gone mad, through the efforts of one man. So far, he was just... impressed. The power that it must've taken, whatever Fold had gotten ahold of to pull this off... He wanted it. Looking up at the castle which omniously loomed ahead, and yet seemed to have drawn no closer as he walked, he grinned.

-= Cue up: "The Pillows - Ride on a Shooting Star" =-

"I'm coming, Fold. I'm coming to steal your power."

OOC: Yes, it's short, but after that line, it felt wrong to add anything else. Well, except an OOC comment. Fwhooor.


 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Jun 16, 2003 6:41 am 
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Joined: Thu Jan 31, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 1914
Location: Baal Secondus
He laid face down on the ground. Every muscle in his enhanced body ached. He slowly lifted himself to his feet, the servos in his ancient armour whining in protest as he did so. He looked around trying to get his bearings, and would have found it difficult in the pitch-blackness that he was enveloped in if it were not for his enhanced eye. He found that he was nowhere near where he expected to be. He was in a ruined town, a ghost town. He began to wander around it. He started to recognise parts of it to be a city called York. He needed to get a better view of his surroundings so he went at once to York minster because he remembered that it had a large tower. He ran into the building smashing through the doors as he went. He stormed up to the top of the tower. When he reached the top he looked out across the land, and then it hit him, he was alone. He realised that they must all have died when Fold attacked, but then why was he still alive? He knew that Troluis was dead; he had died in his arms. He began to give up the hope and faith that had sustained him through this. With his battle brother dead and his body gone then there was little point to carry on.

Only in death does duty end.

The voice came out of nowhere and caught him of guard.

To Admit defeat is to blaspheme against the Emperor.

There it was again, stronger than the first.

The strong are strongest alone.

It hit him what these where. It was his memory reminding him of his duty through the words of heroes. Men and women loyal to the Emperor that gave their lives in for his glory. He was a servant of the Emperor; he could not rest till his duty was done. His brother was dead by the hands of an abomination and it was his sacred task to destroy it. Hatred welled up inside him, his thoughts turned to revenge. His hearts pumped faster, his pulse began to race and his body was filled with new strength.

We are the Space Marines

Adrenaline began to flow through his veins.

The Champions of Humanity

He removed the clip from his bolt pistol and replaced it with one filled with hellfire rounds.

The Emperor's chosen warriors

He placed the helmet on.

For every one of us that falls in battle one hundred enemies will die.

A red eye pierced the gloom and he raised his arms up and let out a mighty below of rage whilst lightning cracked behind him. Then he saw a castle bathed in a sea of blood in the distance.

"Fold, where ever you are I shall find you, and I shall crush you!"

He leapt from the top of the tower firing the jets in his backpack to slow his decent, though he still lands with a mighty thud. When he rises from his kneeling position it is no longer as the usual Veteran Sergeant Antenor, instead in his place is an angel of death, a creature to look upon and to be instantly filled with fear. Waves of rage and hatred could be felt if there was anyone around him. He started to walk towards the castle, which then increased into a run. It didn't matter to him anymore that he might be the only one left alive, what mattered was that vengeance is served and he would see that it was dealt to those who had deserved it.

There is no time for Peace

No respite

No Forgiveness

There is only WAR!

"We Legion know what it be like to be warjack. When death comes, I die bleeding oil and sparks like metal brothers. When death comes, I die in steam." - Deidric Harkinos, veteran of the Man-O-War Legion

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Mon Jun 16, 2003 11:32 am 
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Joined: Sat Apr 13, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 10550
Location: Bris-Vegas Australia
Cue: Linkin Park: In the End.

The echo of dawn in the Jungle hit Actor first, reaching for his rifle he momentarily wondered who was on watch that night...
Finding nothing there Actor realised for the first time that he wasn't in the Jungle anymore.
He wasn't in the Army anymore either.
He wasn't anything anymore, just a name, a legend with a grudge.

The sand... its the dirt from the Jungle, I'll never forget that feeling, burnt by a thousand days and a million footsteps the dirt was alive in the Jungle. Actor lay back for a moment listening for signs of life. The birds flew above him and the assorted monkeys and predators walked freely, he knew he was alone now.
Even here he was not alone enough.

"You want me to move don't you Fold? I don't know why you hate me so much, we've never met before, we could work something out."

Silence replied. Deafening silence.

"I know you are watching me... why wouldn't you, I'm really fucking interesting you know. Show your little bitch face and I'll show you why half of Africa was set on fire back in 1993. Because I could."

Still no reply, the animals fleeing from the shouts did not obviously count.

"I just want one thing from this world, revenge, and you are the only way I can have that." Actor stood upright, looking around, it was the Jungle, except now he was alone, no team, no support, no Palladin. "What, you've left me here with next to nothing? Why not just kill me outright?"
Somewhere in the depths of the Jungle Actor could feel a response. Not from Fold, from something, slightly weaker but still influencial. He became aware of Diana flying towards him, he could see himself standing in the Jungle getting closer to her. "I can see now can't I? Whatever you were doing has stopped... thank christ for that at least."
The bird perched on his right shoulder, gripping tightly the extra leather Actor had hidden in the Trenchcoat for her.

Folds laughter echoed in his mind... looking up Actor noticed that there wasn't any sunlight comming through the canopy, somehow it was dawn here without light, the animals were just acting through the morning came despite the sun not rising.

"I just want to go home and sleep." Actor sighed, looking upwards through the trees, the stars shifting mercilessly into place, holding and then warping again and again in an infinant pattern of chaos.

"There is no home for you now Actor."

Without looking Actor reached for his guns and went to shoot the voice.

"What the Fuck?"

"Your guns fell out of your pockets a while back, there over there in case you were wondering."

"Thanks." Actor stood still, the voice behind him remained silent. "Can I turn around or not?"

"Sure, its not like you can kill me right now."

Palladin looked different in this place, less omnipotant, almost.. human.

"Where are we?"

"Lets just say the universe is like a giant 18th birthday party... this is the mess left after everyone is gone. Out here its pretty bad, towards the edge." Palladin guestured slightly. "Reality has fragmented, only the gods can survive there."

"And in the other direction?"

"Thats where Fold is. Waiting for you."

"What about the others, are they still alive?"

"Actor you poor dumb bastard, of course not, its up to you now to save the universe and kill Fold. I know about the arangement my Brother made with you. That they would give me up for Fold, I don't know if that offer will stand anymore, considering how powerful we are now."

"You don't look anymore powerful." Actor thought about what he could do, the guns were too far away, Palladin was an expert shot, he couldn't do anything.

"Not here, but out there, we are just like we used to be... gods in the truest sense of the word. Even the Watchers couldn't fight us out there."

"So you and all those lunatics are sitting there controling everything?"

"You'll never be able to understand what control is Actor. We Are There. Thats the thing, the capital letter in Are."

"Why tell me this? Why not just put a bullet in me?"

"Why not Actor. Why not." Palladin lowered his guns. "Grab them Actor, you will need them if you are going to kill Fold."

"What makes you think I won't kill you first?"

"Because your Watcher wants him dead more than you want me dead. And you can't deny him his fun. When thats over, you may go home."

Actor dived for his guns grabbing them and turning.
He saw a depression in his vision, as if looking through calm waters at the surface below.

Actor could see through the trees a giant castle rising up towards the sky, larger than anything he had ever imagined.

"Fuck that." Turning his back on the monolith he began pushing his way through the jungle. "You were right Palladin, I have no home left to go to."

"Why can't we go back to living like cavemen? I know it was a rough and ready existence - the men where always rough and the women were always ready! " - Santa.

 Post subject: I'm too old for this shit.
PostPosted: Wed Jun 18, 2003 5:16 am 
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Posts: 3
I wake up, and it's hot...really hot. like a desert...

The gritty sand i'm lying on burns my skin, but there's not scorching acompanying it from above...no sear of the sun.

i open my old eyes, and it's bright, but i was expecting that...the glare had turned my vision red when i'd hat my eyes closed. I brush the abrasive sand from my face as i look around, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

I can't.

I'm in a desert, with pale yellow-brown sand scalding my skin, but half submerged in the sand, are buildings...modern day architechture....suburban houses next to delapitated skyscrapers, all crooked and jumbled up...i don't understand any of this!

Goaning, i pull my old body up of the burning sand...no footprints leading to or awar from where i'm lying...no impact...it's as if i wasn't here...then i was...None of this makes sense...i can't remember what happened, how i got here...Even my name has slipped away...

All i have is the faces of a few people looking horrified, a handsome middle-aged woman looking up at me....some disturbing images...and a flash of light...i ponder this as i head for the shade of the interior of a nearby delapitated farmhouse...seemingly familiar...

I notice, with some confusion that the buildings, and myself, don't cast a distinct shadow...i look up into the sky and discover the reason...No sun.

"this is just getting stranger and stranger..." i mutter to myself as i labor up the wobbly stairs and through the swinging front door of the run down old place, that sense of familiarity growing.

I stop walking down the hall when i hear the click of a gun, and a cool pressure at the base of my neck. instinctively, i make the universal gesture of surrendur, raising my hands, as i hear an enticing familiar, but equally mysterious female voce behind me.

"don't move." God, who is this woman, that she sounds so familiar?

The woman behind me takes a few steps backwards, her pace even and measured, in control, and that voice from elusive memory comes again.

"now turn around, no sudden movements." I follow her orders. the contunied habitation of my brains in my skull may be at stake, after all.

Then i see her face. And everything changes. The same face from those dim memories of the recent past, now in sharp focus, memories of further back, everything comes flooding in at once, names, faces, words, actions, all of it, a flood of thoughts and emotions that make me ME. and her, HER.

"Maria! you're OK!" The woman returns my smile warmy. We never got married, and the relationship ended years ago, but wev'e stayed friends all these yearsm and had something as romantic friends that didn't work as life partners.

"i'm glad to see you too, old man," She returns affectionately. god, she means so much to me...i'd forgotten how much until now, what with all the action since we'd arrived at the farmstead, and the year we'd sorta drifted in limbo before that...i'd been busy with the diner, and she'd been mostly in south america..

I grab her in a heartfelt bearhug, and we just stay like this for a while. it feels good, the best iv'e felt in a long time.

we seperate, and i for one feel a lot better, but there are more pressing issues to figure out first, so we start looking at the situation more bussiness-like.

"so any idea what's going on? Wher the hell are we? this looks like the farmhouse that blew up, and everything outside looks so mixed up..."

She shakes her head, as confused as I am, no doubt. "no idea..it's all so jumbled up..and the people.."

i'm surprised by that. i hadn't seen any signs of life while i'd been outside.


"well, they LOOK like people, but the act more like dranged, savage animals...killing each other brutally...raping...it's horrible Sherman..."

i'm so shocked, i don't even cringe at the use of my full name. "my God, what's going on? is this all Fold?"

After a while, our stomachs decide that sitting here worrying isn't going to solve anything, particularly the lack of food in this building, so we het a rifle each, and leave, hopeing for some kind of conveniance store. fast food joint...anything...

Thabks to our military backgrounds, we're able to avoid the small roaming bands of insane survivors, and stumble across a reasonably stocked conveniance store, overgrown with jungle growth as the desert seemed to give way to lush jungle.

"just what the hell is going on here?"

Maria doesn't respond, she seems to have had the shock all used up, and just tears away the vines, and puts the butt of her rifle through the glass door.

Without power, our options are somewhat limited...most of the refrigerated food has thawed and gone bad, but the canned goods still prove to be salvagable. the can, civilisations edible time capsule.

i get a cheap frying panfrom a rack, and use some boards from a nearby suburban home to get a fire going in the sand, and cook us up a meal consisting of canned spaghetti and some cans of tuna. with spices, it's reasonably edible. maria seems more impressed with it than i, which isn't surprising, the woman could burn water.

"well, what now?" i ask, as we watch the unmoving outside from the apparent seclusion of the store.

"The tower, i guess," she says, quitely wipng a piece of stale bread around her plate.

my mind turns back to the monstrosity i'd seen as we'd made our way here, and i shudder.

I'd seen a lot in my military days that turned my stomach, and since i met Adric and luci, and through them other Expatriates, iv'e seen some bizarre shit, but nothing had sent chills up my spine, or made me feel physically and spiritually ill like that terrible tower.

in no small part because i knew we'd need to go there.

To find i am alive...only to Die.

 Post subject: Changes come to everything
PostPosted: Fri Jun 27, 2003 12:37 pm 

Joined: Thu Jun 27, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 1095
Location: Hell a.k.a. Georgia
Vandal stared at the ground as he walked, occasionally bringing a cigarette to his lips for a drag. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, or even how far. Landmarks were unreliable now. A few steps and one could top a hill in the desert to discover tundra stretching out away from his feet. Therefore going from the grass-covered plains to an immediately dense redwood forest wasn’t much of a surprise. Of course, when the ground collapsed under his feet, sending him sliding through a short tunnel and out into the open air, was a definite surprise. Barely managing grab hold of a protruding rock, Vandal clung almost literally by his fingertips from the side of the canyon. A heated string of curses and insults slipped through his lips. With a sigh, he called up the power necessary to activate the runes and get him back to solid ground.


Not even a shimmer of light, a crackle of electricity. No spark of power came to his command. Vandal frowned as he concentrated, trying to pull more of the power up. Still nothing. He knew it was there, he could feel it throbbing just beneath the surface, like always. Yet… there was something odd. Like a dissonance, almost, a counterpoint that didn’t seem to fit into the normal resonance of the energy. Whatever it was, it kept him from using the runes.

Which left Vandal hanging from a cliff face, a long way from the bottom, and not exactly close to the top either. Taking in a deep breath, he began the arduous task of climbing his way out of the situation. Bit by bit, inch by inch, he was able to find available, albeit small, hand and footholds, enough to make his way upward.

After nearly an hour of climbing, the Expatriate pulled himself over the top. Flopping over to his back, Vandal stared upwards into the ever-present gloom of the sky. Quick checks assured his cigarettes and lighter were still present. It took but a few seconds and the spark of flame brought one to life. His face set into a frown, he began to think. His power hadn’t come when called. Nothing had happened. Something was different now. Now that he had noticed it, he realized it had been since the farm, and the incident with Discord. Something had happened when his own power had clashed with that summoned by the guitar and madadric.

A million thoughts whirled through his brain now. He had no power. Well, he had it, but could not touch it. How could he do what needed to be done? How would he be able to continue as what he was? How would he now survive in this world? More importantly, how could he defeat Fold without his strength?

"Like a game of pick up sticks,
played by fucking lunatics"

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2003 9:21 pm 
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Joined: Mon Sep 02, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 3142
Location: Detroit
*Lifyre Stands stone still as Fold rants knowing that he has survived for years and catastrophies before he;ll survive this... only doubting that thought when the Nuke hits....*


dark perfect black...

Lifyre opens his eyes and he sees a cliff off to his right topped by a castle and debris from the iconic parts of the world strewn about the plain, or desert, or mountains...

"I'll bet Fold is in that castle... And this is the remnants of my old reality. I have two choices. Fight here or give it all up and return..."

"Not much of a choice really... I doubt I'll get along with him any more now than when I left for exile... to the castle then..."

"I must get there before the others... I can't let them get in my way... Fold is the new master here and the only way to survive is for him to see me as an asset and not a threat. But to convince him of that I need time, time without the others..."

"Time to see if these still work..." *Lifyre strains visibly... but nothing else changes...* "Shit... I didn't think so. Time to fly the old fashioned way then."

*Lifyre begins to leap higher and faster than any human could. Higher than any obstacle in his path. Literally flying towards the castle only touching the ground long enough to give himself another boost on his trip. Boucing off crumbling buildings and mountain tops Lifyre streaks through the sky...*

Why are you not wearing my pants?

 Post subject: the man and the house....
PostPosted: Tue Jul 01, 2003 10:43 am 
<font color=darkred><b>Lorem Ipsum
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Joined: Sat Apr 13, 2002 5:00 pm
Posts: 3342
Location: ich bin ein Auslander
OOC: a little story detour to flesh things out a little, and to pay homage to a cool-ass idea. 10 points to the first person that recognizes it./OOC

Madadric doesn't notice the cold air searing his lungs, as he leaps through the branches laden down with snow, leaving a trail of it falling off the branches behind him in mini avalanches. All he notices is his next point of contact ahead, then the next, the next, the next...leaping continuously and tirlessly through the freezing forest, that seems to be at the foot of some mountain range...perhaps somewhere in Russia or thereabouts...

He has no idea how long he'd been leaping through the confusing landscape that is the remainder of the world, but he isn't too concerned. Much of his thought processes have been reduced to animal awareness of his surroundings, and the unquenchable desire to reach the tower, plunge into it, find it's master, and, for lack of a better term, BRAWL.

This overwhelming desire has so affected the chaosbard, that even his physical form has been slightly mutated, his arms are slightly long, and his forearms are noticeably thick, the wrists and hands being disproportionately large. his hair is slightly longer, and his mouth and nose have extended ever so slightly, giving his face a more animal appearance, if only subtly.

As he leaps, his breath comes in growling pants, leaving plumes of white breath behind him like some sporadic puffs from a demented steam train. Several runes on his scabbed torso, and elsewhere on his body glow softly in sympathy with the bright runes swirling all over the guitar still clutchted in his large left hand, tracing a pattern in the air as he bounds ever onward.

Suddenly, the animal-like human plunges out of the frozen forest into a clearing, launching off the final branch, and skidding to a halt on the steep roof of a quaint little cottage, causing the snow-laden slate tiles to drop half their payload.

The man stays frozen, crouched on the roof, his panting breath coming in and out in gasps of frigid, white breath. the alien yellow-in-red eyes scan the small clearing, looking for whatever is making the metaphorical hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and causing his intuitive instincts to scream at him that danger is very present.

After silently crouching for a few minutes, and getting his breath, and cognitive thought back, the naked man stands up straight, and shifts his weight, leaning on his back foot, the guitar, still held like a club in his large hand at his side. Still, those wild, animal eyes scan the clearing.

whatever it is, it's right in this clearing, and it's dangerous. what the hell is-

Mad's thought is cut off by the sound of creaking wood, and the quaint cottage shuddering slightly, causing more snow to be deposited on the ground, and shaking mad slightly off balance. And then, as suddenly, all is still again.

what the...an earthquake?

The man takes a tentative step toward the edge of the sharply slanting roof, and then slips and falls when the house suddenly lurches from under him, to the ground 8 feet below, landing on his back and dropping the guitar as the wind is knocked out of him.

He opens his eyes just soon enough to see what seems to be a cross between a crab's leg and a spider's leg hurtling down towards his face. Acting purely on instinct, the man rolls through the freezing snow out of the way, as the horrific appendage hits where his head had just been with a solid, and frighteningly final sounding *Thud*

The man is quickly on his feet, looking at the monstrosity in front of him, the cottage, making groaning sounds of tortured timber, has raised itself up on a great number of the strange, sickle-like legs, each one making a thudding noise as it plunges into the frozen ground, moving the house-crab-bug-thing toward the man at an alarming pace.

"holy f-"

Mad again has to leap and roll to avoid one of the deadly limbs as it strikes at him with shocking force, spraying snow into the air. As swift as he moves, another leg quickly Thuds into the snow inches away from his face. the ChaosBard pushes humself to his feet and leaps back as another wickedly curved leg strikes out with unnerring accuracy.

All that can be heard in the clearing is Mad's grunts, panting and curses, the groaning of the house's timber, and the *thudthudthudthud*thud* of it's multitude of legs as it chases after the dodging human. A little desperate for cover, Mad retreats to the treeline, hoping the house can't follow him into the closely packed forest.

To the man's relief, the house seems momentarily confused by the solid deciduous tree before it, but he is quickly dismayed when the nightmare creature begins hacking at the tree with it's legs, and pounding it with it's homey bulk.

"what the fuck is this, 'houses from hell TV special?'" Mad snarls as he tries to see past the bulk to where Dischord lies in the snow. as he moves around, the house leaves off it's attack on the tree, and follows him, waiting with predatory cunning to see what it's prey will do.

The man scowls at the savage domocile, thinking. he reaches down and picks up a rock, throwing it past the creature to hit the snowy ground just to the left of it. The demonic house ignores the stone.

"clever, too, dammit."

well, the runescribe thinks, only one way to do it,i guess, with that, Mad jumps up through the branches of a nearby tree, the house turning to 'watch' him as he goes, and then making a sort of a leap at him as he jumps off the last branch, as he had hoped.

The naked man hits the slippery, now de-snowed roof running, or skidding to be more accurate, and flies at top speed towards his weapon, made with the help of vandal. as he leaps and runs for the guitar, sticking half way out of the snow, the house is dead on his heels, and gaining, it's pace something truly frightening as the legs flurry through the snow with the characteristic *thudthudthudthudthud*

With a straining leap mad goes for the guitar, rools, and comes up facing the beast, and holding the guitar like a club.

And grinning.

"come on."

Without even having hesitated, the monsterous domicile bears down on the man, who is now sweeping Dischord through the air, drawing patterns in front of him, as the strings hum and howl out Dischord's terrible, seductive tune. Mad leaps up as the forelegs of the creature plunge into the rune, and the rune explodes in a display of furious pyrotechnics, fuelled by the overwhelming chaos boiling out of the flying figure.

For the third and last time, madadric lands on the creature's roof, and brings Dischord down on it with a savage overhead swing, crashing through the slate tiles. The creature makes a pained noise like timber pressured to breaking point, and begins bucking atround as Mad deftly drops down the newly made hole, the 'slate' leaking a dark red ichor mad doesn't want to think of as blood.

Still grinning, mad looks around the single room interior, looking for all intents and purposes as a small, single room shack, pot belly stove in one corner, bed rattleing around in the other, cupboard doors slamming open and shut with the frantic movement of the maddened demonic abode as it thrashes about wildly.

Dodging all the artefacts of life bouncing around inside the creature, mad runs straight at the pot-bellied stove, radiating heat, and screams as he smashes Dischord into it with all his furious strength.

The iron stove shatters, sending hot iron shards flying around the room, as more of the ichor gushes out, scaldingly hot, as mad finds out when he fails to dodge a small splash that burns his thigh.


not waiting to drown in the scalding gore, the man leaps through the single window, and watches from the comparitively frigid exterior as the creatur thrashes about in it's death throes, before finally collapsing with a final groan, the ichor leaking through the ondow and from under the door, melting the snow and turning the frozen ground into mud around it.

Madadric watches for a few more minutes, grinnig with the excitement of the fight, befire silently turning back to the tower, and leaping into the trees without a backwards glance.

OOC: that was a fun bit of action to write, hee!/OOC


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PostPosted: Wed Jul 02, 2003 11:40 pm 
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Location: America
Wolf had been trudging through the destroyed city for some time now. The pain was gone from his hand now so Wolf was left only to his thoughts and the wind howling through what was once home to thousands.
Most of what he wondered was what the heck was in the operation's handbook for this. Even though Wolf was one to rarely ever follow the handbook he wondered if it ever mentioned something along the lines of his situation.
"Lets see, the world is destroyed and all forms of government is all gone. And it's a good chance that 99.99% of the world's population are dead too." Wolf said aloud.
Nothing came to mind.
"I guess taking revenge is the best thing to do at this point."
To check his position again he looked up and beyond the wreck of a skyscraper that seemed to have been uprooted and thrown down upon a line of office buildings. Above it was the ever growing castle. It's distance and size gave it a eerie feeling which only was made worse by Wolf's surroundings. A small feeling of awe and fear began to rise in his chest and he quickned his pace to try and forget about it.
"Grrr, I don't care how strong he is!" Wolf almost yelled.
"I'll tear you to shreds and eat your heart Demon!" The raw hatred pushing down his fear, his confidence was restored.
Thats when Wolf remembered Kitsune and the other expats.
Surely most of them survived. They weren't average humans like Wolf so if he was still alive then they might be as well. Kitsune would have had to survive thats for sure.Picking up the pace he began jogging toward the castle.
"If kit is alive then it's a good chance then he might be heading toward the castle too. Damn, I hope he didn't beat me there."

It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations.
Sir Winston Churchill, My Early Life, 1930

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