Tabula Rasa [Ather City 3] Main Game page 16

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Luke Fausten

When the first construct explodes in a wave of black mental energy, I instinctively shield myself, not noticing the second construct as it appears out of seemingly nowhere and bashes all my clones together with fields of mental energy. What follows is an instant of near total confusion as all four of me are tangled together in a mess, until it occurs to me that it’ll take far shorter time to sort out if I simply merge the clones again. So I do that, while releasing a burst of mental energy to dispel my opponent’s hold on me. But damn, my invisibility is ruined. Oh well, so much for that.

The construct begins talking, while I quickly run my available options through my mind. It is clear that I have no other choice than to destroy this construct, given its reaction toward my World’s Will spell; the person controlling this construct is utterly and irredeemably evil. He apparently wants to talk. But with someone like this, there will be no talking, no compromise, no atonement, only his death and the world rid of another disgusting, vile psychopath. I can attack the construct with telepathy again in an attempt to track down where its controller is… but doing so the first time has resulted in the construct destroying itself in a wave of mental energy that is obviously harmful to these normals around me. In that case, I may as well destroy this construct; I’m sure I can contain the explosion this time if it chooses to self-destruct again.

The person controlling the construct makes a quick jab at my mind, clearly discovering my strong hostile intents. No more mercy then. I decide to push my new mind fragmentation spell further, splitting myself into twelve copies. Each clone flies off and fires a massive beam of light at the construct from a different direction, the coalescing barrage of white energy obliterating the construct almost instantly. I do not hold back; even the burst of energy the construct’s self-destruction mechanism releases is smothered by my own power and crushed into nothingness before it can hurt any more people.

The twelve copies of me expand our minds outward in a long-range telepathic scan, trying to detect signs of this mage’s presence; I don’t want more of his constructs sneaking up on me. Fortunately, I don’t find anything within a few kilometers. I know what his consciousness feels like now. If we meet again, I will make him confess every single crime he has committed, and punish him accordingly.

I realize that the two normals are still around. Well, seems like I have some explaining to do. My mind fragments become streams of white light, swirling and merging with each other. There is a brief instant of confusion as a dozen separate but linked consciousnesses are joined, then I am whole again. For good measure, I make an effort to make my appearance more solid and corporeal, showing the normals clearly an image of my human form.

Hello, I say in what I hope is an amiable mind-voice; I hope the normals are not disturbed by the feeling of mental contact. My name is Luke Fausten, and this is my astral projection, I gesture to myself. I was just passing through when I spotted that black magical construct stalking you two, invisibly. I happen to have a spell that checks if one possesses hostile intent. Technically, that is not true, but the difference is only technical so I will not waste time trying to explain. I think the result I got should be self-evident, seeing how I decided it was necessary to destroy those magical constructs before they could harm you two or anyone else. Now, what might the guns be for, if I may ask? I gesture toward the man’s guns. They aren’t really something an ordinary law-abiding citizen tends to carry in their everyday lives.

A man sits on his opulent throne in what appears to be a massive cathedral entirely crafted from some unknown silvery white metal. Between his long silver hair, and a mask of the same silvery white metal, his face is entirely hidden, leaving visible only a pair of cold steely gray eyes. His pristine white robes flutter gently as he laughs, the sound full of amusement mixed with contempt and an odd metallic tinge.

“Diovoga Llunrov. What an… interesting person.”

He seems to muse for a moment, then shrugs. The fabric of space itself distorts to bring him face to face with Diovoga, who presumably believes his location to be secure.

“Greetings, Mr. Llunrov and… the Abyssal One, is it?” The silver-masked man speaks with a falsely kind and honeyed tone. “You wanted a conversation, did you not? I like conversations. They bring so many… opportunities, opportunities that can be lost forever through senseless violence.”

 
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Diovoga Llunrov
The sudden appearance of a white-robed, silver-masked man directly in front of me is startling, to say the least. Before the chair I am sitting on has toppled fully backwards, I have reflexively entered and left the form of a large shadowy mass, reappearing in my usual form well away from the man in question whilst remaining in the room, and, with appropriate precautions taken to protect my mind, even though they probably won’t be necessary in this case, have launched at least five pitch black orbs in his direction, any of which would have the capability to allow me to utterly rewrite his memories if they functioned as intended.
Instead, they simply melt into his person as if they didn’t exist. This is a bad thing, as it means he is either a powerful Mental mage, or has a very high willpower indeed, or both… given that he’s teleported in front of me again, I’m seriously hoping it’s just the latter.
And yet, as he talks, I find that, as a matter of simply knowing more about me than any person should, the situation is far, far worse than I have ever believed to be possible before now.
He speaks my name. Worse still, he speaks one of the many names of my master.
He should not have any knowledge of my master without ridiculously powerful Mental magic.
And yet, from the teleportation he utilised, he shouldn’t even be capable of such a feat as telepathy. It’s as if he’s from another universe entirely – one where our laws of magical ability do not apply, or have been twisted to allow use of magic from multiple schools.
…I’m getting panicked here. I quickly enact a series of breathing exercises to calm myself down, then attempt to probe into the man’s mind to get a sense of who he might be.
…nothing whatsoever. I literally cannot discern any part of his mind, or even his face behind his mask.
A curtly uttered swear word would be appropriate here. I strengthen my own mental barriers to a great an extent as I can manage, blocking off my face behind the mask in the same way he has done. Now… let’s try to figure out what he wants.
‘…right. Well. If we’re going to talk, I have a few questions for you… “sir”. For starters, how did you get in here? And as the main course, how do you know my name, or that of the one I work for? We’ll get to dessert afterwards, maybe have some cheese and wine as well. Ha ha.’

 
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The silver-masked man laughs, a mocking, disdainful sound just slightly tinged with the harsh grating of metallic blades. “Dessert, hmm? I must say that I will be intrigued to witness how you will be able to consume food without removing your mask and, as a result, revealing your face to me. That is, assuming you do wish to keep your face hidden, rather than wearing the mask as a mere fashion item of sorts? Hmm… I digress,” he says in a falsely apologetic tone, making it quite obvious that he is making such jest on purpose. “Now… How I am able to be here this very moment is quite complicated and, in my humble opinion,” the arrogance in his voice making his opinion sound anything but humble, “honestly not a matter worth wasting time attemping to explain. Although…”

He seems to muse for a brief moment. Then, though it cannot be seen under the mask, his lips twist into a sinister smile.

“Although you may be more familiar with this subject matter than you realize, Mr. Llunrov. You have a rather intriguing… arrangement, if I may say so myself. I don’t suppose you, or the one you serve, care to explain to a… sympathizer like myself? My situation may be somewhat similar to yours, if my estimations are not completely incorrect.”

 
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Within some incomprehensible location, an entity whose true form is indescribable by its very nature reaches out with a single tendril of its being. Unbidden and unfelt, it moves to probe its way into the mind of the being who currently converses with its scion, in an attempt to find information pertaining to what the man may know of it.
For this being, its “feelings” – the closest thing to what we can call feelings, anyway – lie in unnamed somethings that simply cannot be described as emotion as we know it. As such, what would likely be a lurch of shock for any other being translates to a slow, almost graceful ripple away from the mind in question, then back towards the mind of that which serves it.
In a time period that would pass as “quickly” for us, it begins its alterations.



Diovoga Llunrov
I suddenly waver slightly in my stance, and blink a couple of times. After a moment of inactivity and silence, I shuffle my feet slightly and cough once into my hand.
‘I get the impression that you aren’t a nice person.’ I intone. ‘At all. Like, you don’t, y’know, socialise. Ever. I mean, I don’t either, usually, but I at least try to be amenable towards… guests… in my home.’ I gesture towards the man himself at the word “guests”. ‘That being said, you haven’t answered my questions. It’s polite to answers questions when they are asked. Please, go ahead.’

 
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The silver-masked man sighs in disappointment, confusion, and what is almost pity. The brief mental contact with the creature that calls itself the Abyssal One has more or less confirmed the man’s suspicions, but that simply raises more questions than it answers. And it is evident that the creature itself is not going to make things any easier. It is quite surprising that the creature is able to exert its influence to this universe at all… though he supposes that it cannot be any more surprising than his own very presence here. Speaking of that…

“I am dearly sorry, but my time in this existence is rather limited,” the man speaks, this time with a curious mixture of both fake and genuine reluctance. “I would much like to continue this conversation and, perhaps, enter a mutually beneficial agreement with you and the one you serve, but…” His form begins to flicker. “I really must be somewhere else right now. I hope we will meet again, Mr. Llunrov.”

And with that, the fabric of space twists and turns like it did before. An instant later, the room is dark once again, silent save for the sound of Diovoga’s own breathing and heartbeats.

Luke Fausten

I frown slightly. For the last few minutes there has been this strange feeling at the back of my head, a feeling that I can’t quite describe. It started some time after my astral projection split itself into twelve, I think. Might that be a side effect of overuse of this mind fragmentation spell? The feeling persisted even after my twelve clones merged back into one, but vanished just now for no apparent reason. Strange…

“Something wrong, Luke?” Francis asks.

“…no, it’s nothing,” I shake my head slightly, and take a bite into the sandwich I am holding. This isn’t something to be mulled over at the lunch table; perhaps I’ll think more about it later at home. Besides, a more interesting conversation is going on at the place of my only remaining clone, with the girl and the gun-wielding man. I tune in slightly more to hear what they have to say.

 
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[I invented a term that might come in handy at sometime. CAPON, or Characteristic Abusive Potential Of Normals. It will be funny to say “You are pulling my capon too far now!” and suchlike.]
[This doesn’t relate to the current scenario, before anyone tries to figure out the relation. I am just thinking ahead ;)]
[If this gets borked by Kong formatting, I am going to hit a wall.]

Ren

He had smiled, and decided to tell a lie that he told nearly everyone he met. It really wasn’t a lie, though, since he did believe himself to be Renault Wolfe, wholly and truly, whenever he spoke. Indeed, he was quite ready to adopt that personality for the rest of his life, so what did it matter what his real name had been?

Then all hell broke loose. Or so it seemed to him. He tried to raise his hand to shield his face. It wouldn’t matter anyway.


He thought he heard the voices from far away. Somewhere around the corner, maybe. Or perhaps from a distant land, or an alien planet. It wasn’t impossible that the voices he heard where from worlds where no man had been, worlds whose silhouettes formed nightmares and whose existence lent their charm to dreams. He didn’t recognize the voices, nor did they seem familiar to him.

Imagination, swift as a painter’s brush, and with the bold swiftness that comes from strength alone, painted an image on the blank canvas that was his mind at peace. It was brilliant in its colors and dazzling in its superb contrast of shades, and had no details to mar the exquisiteness of ambiguity. Not impressed, though. it wiped the canvas clean, and began to draw again with renewed vigor. His mind partly absorbed with this fascinating show, he could barely hear the dull undertones in the background.

“Carefree and vital. Not very strong when it comes to willpower, though. At least one important decision will be taken wrongly… Has an interest in gardening, and birds.”.

“I know about the present already.” said an annoyed voice, its gender indeterminable through the curtains of confusion. “Tell me something about the future instead.”.

“Everyone wants to know about it. Well, there is a promise of good education… but it will fail to be utilized properly. Very prominent mount of the moon, inclined towards the Rascette bracelet… Gifted artist. There is a danger from water. Marriage… no, a broken off engagement.” There was a pause. “At least one very important person is going to enter your life… you will fall in love too… but it will be best to avoid it. For yourself. There will be someone who will advise you, but you will not listen.”.

There was a longer pause. The silence seemed to choke the PI, and he strained to listen. Imagination, as if disappointed by the lack of the effort that it could not perceive, fled into its hidden cave, leaving him in total darkness for several eons, during which he thought he was losing his youth, but soon realized that he was only approaching his age. Through it, he heard a few soft murmurs. It was as if someone had carelessly run there fingers over the chords of a piano.

“How strange… That man has his fate written most clearly, and terribly, on his hand. There will be a time when he will hate to be himself. It won’t matter though. He will hate himself no matter how much he lies to himself, and only more every time he betrays himself with a truth.”.

Then, it grew a bit darker as his consciousness slipped. Or perhaps it just caught its footing.


“Are you alright?” he asked his companion, feeling not a little alarmed at the suddenness of the incident that seemed to have occurred only seconds ago. He was about to suggest that they hasten away from the spot before any more strange events occurred, when he noticed a young man nearby. An interesting specimen, but he had seen more. He nearly winced as he felt a mind contact his own. It wasn’t painful, but its familiarity was worse than any pain. He felt bitterness course through his veins without conscious effort.

“Thanks,” he said, addressing the man. The word was too small for charity, though Ren, and too big for a favor. The man, Luke Fausten, as he called himself, could probably hear him through his thoughts, but hearing his own voice made him feel braver, and he hoped that his companion would also be able to recover faster if the steadfast confidence of his tone was as contagious as others said it was.

“As for why I am carrying a gun…” He could invent a million lies. He didn’t find it necessary. “I haven’t asked you why you are moving around the city in the form of an astral projection yourself, as you said it yourself. Can we extend the courtesy both ways?” I didn’t mean that to sound so curt. he thought, his eyes drifting, for seconds, over Luke Fausten’s shoulder, as if searching for something in the distant traffic. They didn’t seem to find what they sought.

 
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[I SWEAR TO GOD, I FORGOT ABOUT THIS. I AM SORRY. I DID NOT MEAN TO CAUSE YOU OFFENCE AT THIS MATTER. UMMM… I’M NOT DEAD AM I?]

 
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Luke Fausten

I consider it for a moment. Well, it can’t hurt… You may or may not have seen me splitting into multiple copies of myself. That’s why I’m flying around the city like this, to test that new spell of mine. Is that good enough of a reason, or do I need to begin making up awkward lies?

[People always seem to forget that my characters are eighteen years old. “Man” implies twenty to thirty or something.]

 
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[People always seem to forget that my characters are eighteen years old. “Man” implies twenty to thirty or something.]

[“young man”, on the other hand, can be anything from the start of adulthood to midway or 30 :p I got lazy later and substituted it for ‘man’.]
[Coolo, I really don’t think Spirit has modkilled anyone, because pretty much everyone is inactive right now. Posting will probably be horrendously appreciated.]

Ren

“Lies are never awkward if they are incredible enough, and truth is more awkward as it escalated in credibility. Anyway, I believe what you say. My guns are for my personal protection from certain people, who do not fit the criteria for law abiding citizens either.” He crossed his arms. I would say that I don’t draw without cause, but there is nothing as dangerous as a gun drawn for a reason.

He paused, and decided to ask a question. “Are you from around here, Luke? When it comes to astral projections, I don’t know how far they can travel.”.

 
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Justice

Several Hours Later

Golf, what a boring game that was

I drive down the road slowly enough that I can think without getting myself into a horrible accident.

Damn, I am horribly bored, I just wish there was something I could do…

Find evil and destroy it… its your only true purpose now, any of these short term goals you make for yourself are pointless… Go.. Now…

Perhaps thats correct. I dont usually like to be ordered around, but maybe it’s good advice. But where to find evil?…

I drive around for a while, looking for some evil to show itself..

(if someone would kindly throw an event at my character, I would appreciate it. Otherwise, I’ll just go with my own storyline, but that would be boring. Mind you, my character’s idea of evil is very twisted, so it doesnt have to be an obvious evil act.)

 
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Luke Fausten

I don’t think there is a limitation to how far this projection can travel… But yes, I am from around here. I briefly consider if I should tell him more. Hmm, if more word of my little crime-busting mage group spreads out, it may make more criminals become wary of us, and slightly reduce crime rates as a result. Why not. Anyways, my friends and I like to get together and bust up gangsters and other criminals from time to time. You may or may not have heard of us; we call ourselves Novus Ordo Seclorum. We may be interested in those non-law-abiding people whom you need guns to protect yourself from, Mr…. Ren? That’s what the other mage earlier said your name is, right? I’m sorry that I did not prevent him from reading your mind.

 
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Ana

Ren kept answering questions out loud, probably unaware of the fact that I was listening to every single word that was uttered. I wasn’t planning to use the conversation against him, but rather, I hoped to pick up clues that might give me a lead on Chase’s murderer. The odds were against me, no doubt, but maybe I’d get lucky today.

 
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[BTW, can you control NPCs in remote locations nowadays? I see B_S did that, and I could end an NPC to interact with hangman, assuming that he is in the same city (which he mightn’t be) and so he doesn’t get bored.]

Ren

Novus Ordo Seclorum…

There was a small prickling sensation at the back of his mind, and it troubled him. In the many years of his life, he had learned to differentiate his unconscious stimuli and work out the reason why, when and where he felt them. It was handy, as it served to inform him of fear, or lingering unease, or an incoming surge of anger. The current sensation was different from those that he usually felt. It might have been inspired, he reasoned, from the fact that the name sounded ominous. Or maybe because it was Latin. He never liked Latin.

“Yes. People know me as Renault Wolfe. Ren alone is sufficient.” It was, he thought dryly, a name like any other. The only difference was that it belonged to him, or appeared to. “And it is okay.” he added, referring to the magical construct which had supposedly read his mind. It has to be okay, he thought. It isn’t possible for us to travel back in time and undo what has happened. “He could hardly have had enough time to read more than a bit of my conscious mind.”.

“As for your interest in these people, I wasn’t referring to any particular bunch.” It was true, in essence. “I have a profession that makes you a lot of unknown enemies and very few friends. Those who don’t abide by the law have a habitual dislike of people who supplement its inadequacy. At any rate, it is good to know that there are others beside me. The biggest drawback of such an engagement is possibly the fact that you must plan your own schedule. Well, the world is round, so you keep meeting people again and again.” There was a note of farewell in his voice which had appeared almost automatically. He did have an interesting schedule to maintain. A schedule that wasn’t his.

He turned back to Ana – and caught her staring at him with interest. Unless Luke was broadcasting his voice to her as well, it must have been like listening to one end of a telephonic conversation. A conversation that wouldn’t tell her much as she knew neither of the speakers. Which wasn’t bad in itself. “You must be getting late. Shall we get going?”.

 
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Richard
After several hours/days/however long has past’s worth of training (and sleeping), I have my first assignment. The task is simple- get to a rooftop and snipe a drug dealer in a apartment block. The guy was apparently a massive asshole, and I was going to be paid a thousand bucks for it. He was apparently going to be alone (someone set him up earlier, and I had five minutes to pick a suitable spot and get into position without being spotted. I find the apartment building quick enough, so I look for his apartment. Fifth floor, third room from the left on the front. And it seems that there’s another apartment block a few streets back that would be a perfect spot.

As I reach the building, I realise that I can’t just walk in with a sniper rifle on my back. Thankfully, it’s dark here, so I can probably just climb up if the windows or near enough together. I begin the climb on the back of the building, and find that I can easily make the climb, doing so in quick timing. I think I’m getting better at parkour. I have about a minute left to get into position. Thankfully the roof is flat. I lay down at the edge of the building and look through the scope. He’s in my sights. I line up the shot, take a deep breath, and fire. His brain explodes as the bullet hits. Perfect. I think I got him.

 
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(Yo dawg, I’m getting pretty sick of waiting on Ocelot. What’s going on with him? I do want to progress with Cyrix. At least Minn is capable of responding. Of course, I have to PM him beforehand. It’s buggery rape.)

 
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[Let’s just…]

Arcelia
“You’re not leaving then, stranger? You can just wait here, I’ll find you a chair, then I’ll just serve-”
I just grab Michelle and come into a nice little secluded room where we can talk in relative privacy, then…
“Okay. Show me what is it that you want me to examine.”

[this is rushed]

 
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[I can tell.]

Michelle Proctor

“This thing here…”

I rustle through my jacket’s inside pocket and produce a stone, it’s slightly shiny and cracked edges are perfectly round as if it had been only half tumbled. The stone fills most of the palm, making it a comfortable fit for anyone with small hands. It’s cracks seem to leak a reddish light, gently throbbing. They emit a heat which reminds you of the pebbles you would find on a sandy beach on a hot day. On what is obviously meant to be the top face (due to how it fits into the palm) the cracks converge on the centre of the stone, and inwards to what looks like a glowing core.

As I hand the stone over she seems startled by the physical tug west, not really expected from an inanimate stone. It seems almost as if it is alive, like it has a mind of it’s own.

[This is what I was writing before but you demanded it too soon. Anyway, I decided to just write the description here instead so it wasn’t wasted, and to add some bits to make it fit the circumstances.]

 
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Ana

“Yes, I’m a little tired. Actually, I’m hungry too, we should definitely stop by this local eatery a few blocks from here, it has the best steak ever.”
After his approval, we proceeded down Red Road. The walk would be a bit lengthy, so I decided to strike up a conversation and end the silence which had so quickly enveloped us.
“So, Ren, care to give me a little background information about yourself? I’m not trying to pry into your personal life or anything, but I like getting to know the people I’m spending time with. Oh and I was right, you are, or rather were a law enforcement officer of some type.”

.

 
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[If I demanded it too soon, then, well, you’ve had ample time to edit now.]
[I really need to get back into a… groove or something for RPing here. My tastes come and pass, lingering if upkept, and this here needs me, so I need it to linger…]

Arcelia
I carefully examine the stone. It’s warm, has glowing cracks…
“Well, that’s certainly magical. It’s a good thing you brought it here…”
I consider my options for a good while.
“I’d weigh the stone now, but this force interference would make the reading imprecise, or, at least, make it roll off the scales. As such, I’ll just take a shortcut here…”
I fetch something which looks like a single tray from a scale, with three wires joining the tray to a place where a hook would be – instead, there’s a bar, forming a comfortable grip for one hand. This device I call Libra – I didn’t make it, but it’s so useful I just had to get one. When powered by the user’s magic, it analyzes whatever’s on the tray and feeds the information back to the user’s memory!
The stone lands on the tray, tilting it to the side a little, and I focus expectantly.
And I find out the air around the stone has warmed up some. Well, that’s less than I expected.
Making logic takes me more than several seconds. Michelle just keeps looking. Finally, I come to a conclusion.
“The Libra sends out a magical probing zone. And there was no response about the stone. I don’t think it’s enchanted so that I can’t find anything out about it, that’s just be pure malice… instead, it warmed up when magic was applied. Let me run one more test…”
Without actually waiting for approval, I grab a wand of cold and point it at the stone, which I set on a small table and prop it from a side to keep it from rolling off. I tune the wand with a spell, so that it makes a much smaller beam, then zap it at the stone.
Afterwards, it feels even warmer than it was.
“Well, now I know that thing just absorbs magic. Of any kind. Then it radiates it out… Ambient mana must be keeping it at this somewhat higher temperature.”
Some old link in my memory flares up.
“Oh, right! I know now. That’s a lump of dreiphite you have. Dreiphite does just that – absorbs magic, then it can power other spells with it – the problem is, actually enchanting it with the spell you want to be powered is quite tricky and really annoying, as it can’t be absorbed itself… I’ve seen it before. This, and with that waste of power on that radiance… actually, nevermind.”
I take a drink from my glass, which got here with me somehow.
“So that’s what we know now. It’s dreiphite, a magic-absorbing stone, and it’s using magic to power some kind of a directional force spell, wasting some in the process to make it warm. Now, you could tell me what do you know about it – where’d you get it and all, what have you observed – and then we can check the exact direction of that force and compare it to a map to see where could it be going…’’

 
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Michelle Proctor

“I’ve actually done that already…” I produce a cutout of map I still have on me from one night on the road back in france.

“Here.” I point to a straight in direction, but jagged, line. “I lined the map up with true north and put some red paint on the bottom of the stone, the red line is what the stone painted. The direction of travel, I guess it could be going anywhere along the line.” I blink and stop for a second. Ah yes… History.

“I can sum up the gist of what happened, I found this thing in a forest imbedded in the ground. I took it back with me to the house, but upon returning there were men all over the place. Instinct told me to stick to the bushes and watch. Several men came from the direction I came from, there was a barking of orders, then, they dragged my family into the house. I watched them retire from the house in silence and approach an armoured vehicle. That’s when I saw the flames.
“A tongue of flames from the downstairs windows… muffled under the engine sounds I suddenly hear screams. Perhaps gagged before, now it seems as if one person had managed to wriggle free. My brain told me to go in and check, but I saw him sprinting from the building moments after. My brother, brian. There was shouting inside, something about a stone.
“I never really joined up the stone and that incident until the stone… it started to do odd things. It was warmer as I moved west, the pull became stronger. I made my way west, watching the trail of destruction the masked men were leaving in their wake, people in the smaller villages were slaughtered, larger towns they were stalking the streets. They must have known whoever found this thing would go west, I thought for a second of turning east, or north, at that moment, but something… felt as if I was obliged to come this way, I don’t know, it was prodding some sense of duty inside me. I had to get these people back for this by doing the one thing they obviously didn’t want anyone to do, by forging onwards.
“And so I arrived here, looking for more clues about this thing but I am back where I started. last place I saw them was some town that already looked abandoned to start with, but I don’t think they would come into London. That’s about all I know, but after all that I am back where I started, and with no idea where along the Atlantic or America it could possibly lead me.”

[I’m not losing another post, stupid quote glitch. Control A Control C for the rest of my days on kong.]

 
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[Does anyone know where Kidudeman is? I’ve been waiting on him for quote the time now]

 
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Originally posted by therealsirmark4:

[Does anyone know where Kidudeman is? I’ve been waiting on him for quote the time now]

[You are slightly dead at the moment.]

Originally posted by SpiritfChaos:

The man on the demonic horse is vulnerable, and the beasts see that. They take the chance that he won’t see them coming, and charge. He is overtaken by the mass of fur and teeth, and the horse goes down with him. The creatures make short work of both, ripping their bodies to shreds before leaving in search of new prey.
[Vinyl Scratch is dead.]

 
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[Still waiting on him… In Hell!

 
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Arcelia
“Oh… my. You’ve brought me something that has indirectly caused destruction of multiple settlements? I- I should be sorry for your loss – but I’m afraid for myself now. Still… I feel I have power, thus I also have responsibility… let us go through with this bargain to the best of my ability.‘’
I look at the map, which has a big fat (wide for at least an inch) smudge of red on it.
“I have to say your technique here- it’s imprecise. I’m not blaming you, it’s just… let me try that trick.‘’
I produce a compass, a wand of light beam (essentially a very glorified laser pointer) and a pouch of enchanted sawdust. Setting the compass on the floor, I find out about the directions, using the sawdust, I make some sort of a support system for the wand of light that lets me burn three thin lines along the directions – north, south, and west. I don’t need east here. Then I just set the stone where it was so that it can go places freely.
After it has moved a few meters, I make a line from the startpoint to the endpoint and measure the angle between the west and the new line, then find a larger-scale map, find my position on it, and pencil a much thinner line on it, then extend it past the Atlantic Ocean just to be sure. Then an idea, which has been forming in my head for a while, finally comes together.
‘’Now, it’d help us a lot if we moved to another room to try it again. Triangulation, you know – where two lines intersect, there’s a single point, and it’d help us if the lines didn’t overlap…" I raise my voice. “Glyph! Guard the shop! Tell that changeling man to come after us, then seat him in the other shop, have Folio help you if you need it! In fact, just lo- don’t lock the place down, there’s no need. Lady Eve might want to enter, or leave, or something…”
I lead Michelle through a few doors, taking all the things I used with me. As we pass through one of the doorways, the stone’s pull changes noticeably – an aware person would also notice that our route should have moved us out of the shop. Eventually, we stop in the corresponding storeroom, featuring a lot of shelves on the walls and a clean, bare wooden floor.
‘’Welcome to the United States of America, Michelle. That should make the lines be apart enough."
I set up the directional markings, then set the stone down on the floor. As I stand up, I notice Cyrix walking past, led by Glyph.
’’Actually, could you finish this yourself, Michelle? You’ve seen me do it. I’ve got another client to attend, or at least reassure. I’ll be right back!"

[If anything, this portal is going to come in handy when someone needs transport over the pond and doesn’t wish to face the real life consequences of planar flight or other methods.]I have to say your technique here- it’s imprecise. I’m not blaming you, it’s just… let me try that trick.

 
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Cyrix

I take my seat and keep a bright smile on as I wait for Arcelia. I speak in a bit of a dainty voice.

…Miss Bluespark, I assume you are finished with Miss Proctor. In that case, let’s get to business. You need to see my true form, right?…