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Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 20, 2009 22:38:09 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry about the lack of RPing as of late, guys. Have been having a rough week and my schedule's been a bit of a bear. (As in, I have no free time between 6:30 AM and 11:00 PM)
Hopefully, though, I should be back into the groove within a day or two.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 21, 2009 0:42:24 GMT -5
Mandelbrot took its knife and wiped the blood off on a dead soldier's pant leg, carefully getting every fleck of red off. It almost lovingly cradled the weapon, examining its every curve, edge, and reflection, before placing it back in its lab coat.
"The Hand of God?" Mandelbrot said with a distant air to its voice. "Such a pretentious name. It seems as though they have quite the ego. Presumptuous to believe one has a... mandate from heaven. Now that the thrill of the kill is gone, I must ask why such people would try to kill you in particular."
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Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 27, 2009 14:13:18 GMT -5
"It's not neccessarily such a thing, but like any army that involves powers, there naturally are tier-"
"So, this was a Gregalis level platoon with riot control gear, right?" S.H.C. glanced at the swords once more.
"Or rather, melee gear so that they wouldn't damage any delicate technology..."
"Not quite, girl. This is not like your world, and its tiers. There's humans like these ones, and then there's... powers. That's pretty much the only distinction, besides the Hand of God himself..." The man turned to Mandelbrot, seemingly unimpressed by the coldhearted creature.
"Which brings us to your question. For you see, the Hand of God is very much so not a light title to bear. And this one does not carry it lightly. It's fully possible that if he wanted to, he could utterly annihilate this group, within moments," The man brushed some dirt from his arm.
"And that is why we must escape here before they CAN call for any kind of backup," The man neatly avoided answering the question, watching the doorway with a wariness. Any time that there was a noise, even so much as a whisper, he'd immediately react with a sort of terrified surprise. His head whipped back and forth, his foot tapping.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Sept 27, 2009 23:22:43 GMT -5
OOC: This post authorized by Lee.
Terrian gestured to his duplicates who had been guarding Laksha, and who now picked up the discarded battering ram off the floor. It was a strangely shaped device, definitely not a proponent of the traditional "tree trunk" school of battering ram design. But after inspecting the large steel piston suspended within the cylindrical frame, his duplicates nodded in confirmation that this thing should definitely be able to batter with the best of them.
"I like your thinking," Terrian said to the anonymous native. "Let's make tracks. In a manner of speaking. Okay, that's actually not a good way to phrase it at all."
"Can I suggest an alternative?" one of the duplicates asked. He was sharing the weight of the battering ram with the other duplicate using the handles on either side of the cylinder.
"What's that?" Terrian asked.
"Let's blow this popsicle stand."
Terrian snapped his fingers once in approval.
This prompted the duplicates to swing the battering ram at the back wall. The piston slid forward instantly, as if magnetically propelled, and generated a small shockwave when it smashed into the surface. Another couple of swings, and a healthy chunk of the wall gave way completely.
After the dust settled, they looked out onto a sloping badland set about with rock croppings and ledges. Faintly ominous dark shapes dotted the horizon, although it was impossible to tell under the evening sky whether they were distant mountains or something else.
Laksha shivered as she regarded this rough terrain. It was the kind of environment in which Ganesh would have been comfortable.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 28, 2009 0:09:50 GMT -5
Mandelbrot regarded its captor for a moment. Clearly he was hiding something. The serial killer knew human psychology inside and out, partially to find out why and how its own mental fascinations worked, and partially for miscellaneous other reasons. At this point in time, Mandelbrot knew the man was trying to distract the group from its questioning by triggering a fight or flight response from everyone.
It had worked, for the most part. No one questioned further. In fact, the one who could make copies of himself had sent his minions to pick up the fallen battering ram to create an exit. Mandelbrot watched with idle boredom as the back wall was destroyed.
The killer observed the dark, outside world through the haze of dust before turning to its captor. "You still have not answered my question."
Mandelbrot began pacing, carefully inching closer to the man without actually moving straight towards him. "While escaping is a valid concern, I see that we now have an out. From the looks of it, it seems as though we should have plenty of time for you to tell us why the Hand of God is looking for you." Mandelbrot drew its knife and shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing outside the hole. "Now if you're done with your excuses, you can tell us."
Without warning, Mandelbrot quickly took the last few steps towards the man and grabbed his arm, pulling him in close. The killer held its knife to the man's chest. "If you need to jog your memory, I can help. Don't worry, everyone," Mandelbrot addressed the rest of the group, "I won't kill him. He may just have some... permanent scarring."
OOC: ohcurveball
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Post by Tout-Perd on Oct 5, 2009 22:39:32 GMT -5
"Why am I being chased? Truly, the most important question of the day. The full explanation is rather simple, but I had assumed that we'd rather escape before they started blowing the place up..." The man jerked his head slightly, Mandelbrot at least taking the slight clue. He stepped down the slope, bringing them farther from the dilapitated building, and stepped around a dessicated looking bush. The rest of the group quickly followed, not eager to be near a building that could be destroyed at any moment.
Mandelbrot pushed the knife in closer, letting the man feel the edge through his clothing. Even if the possibility of the building exploding was a reduced threat, the chance of this man being horribly mangled was still a present threat.
"Now..." The operator winced, the knife pushed in to the very cusp of breaking the skin.
"I can talk..." He sighed, visibly trying to draw back. The killer kept exactly even with him, the shining blade moving almost like it was attached to its target. "And now, I will. My name is Cinquante Brader, and I was one of the main inventors of the systems that we use in Remora for plundering other dimensions... And there you have it. As you can see, our world is naturally sparse and hostile. So we have needed to resort to theft of resources from other worlds in order to support our own advances," The man extended his free hand, hushing the group.
"This was fine for the most part. We took bits here and there, enough to establish a society here beyond nomads and refugees. But the Hand of God caught on when we took from his world, and followed the trail we had left... He decided our theft was corrupting the natural balance of the universe, and started killing us."
"Me and two others are all that are left, now. We've scattered across the world, trying to buy time, but it's been a losing battle. The other two are just as close to being pinned down as I was an hour ago..." The man leaned in closer to Mandelbrot, the knife pushing into his skin.
"So there's your answer. Because some high-horsed, blasphemous power declared what I did for a living to be unnatural deviancy, I'm being hunted like a dog!" His spittle flecked the mask.
"Correction. Now, we're being hunted like dogs," S.H.C. said calmly, staring down at what appeared to be a small plated snake with exposed ribs jutting out of its form. It curled into a defensive coil, the ribs rising up and forming a nest of thorns around it.
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Post by ch00beh on Oct 8, 2009 1:20:53 GMT -5
"So," Mandelbrot said, knife still pressing into the man's chest, "you are asking us to help you continue upsetting the natural balance between worlds?
"You are a selfish fool. The Hand of God is not your blasphemer. He has not tried to change what God has given. You have," Mandelbrot said. It tilted its head as if to emphasize the last part, though any change in tone was imperceptible.
"What right do you have." Mandelbrot began sliding its knife across Cinquante's shirt, hard enough to provide pressure, but not enough to cut his shirt. The killer continued in an almost sleepy voice, "You are the inventor of a device that can pull things from one dimension and bring them to yours. This is truly a great breakthrough. Endless possibilities exist with the endless worlds you can cross.
"But you choose your greed over peace." The knife inched slowly upward.
"You choose objects over people." Closer to the neck.
"What right do you have. You are no different from the Hand of God." Mandelbrot spun the knife at Cinquante's collarbone, then slid it down along the bone and up to his jugular.
"You are just a man drunk with power. You think you can change the world so that you can have it all. And you can." Mandelbrot pressed the knife in slightly. "But what of everyone else?" Mandelbrot's voice slowed down and seemed to change tone with those last words.
Suddenly the knife was taken away from the man's neck and placed back inside the killer's lab coat. "But unfortunately for the many worlds, I am more concerned with my life and my home at the moment," Mandelbrot said, back to its normal monotone.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Oct 19, 2009 0:17:00 GMT -5
Cinquante dusted himself off as Mandelbrot released his hold on him. He tried to appear nonchalant, but his arms and legs were still trembling. A single drop of moisture darkened his dusty cheek, a tear that was brushed away almost instantly.
"You think of it what you will..." He began sliding down the hill, a few loose stones coming with him as he went. As he reached a plateau, he raised the sleeve of his kameez, to block the cloud of grit following on his heels. S.H.C. jumped down after him, bouncing once, and then landing on her hands and knees at the bottom. She hissed in pain, quickly standing up and brushing a few sharp pebbles out of her palms.
"But the truth remains. I trust that you'll see the veracity of that in no time at all, considering that we're going to need to rough it for a little while."
"A little while? Does time still, well, keep running, in our worlds?" Ti had taken to following the man closely, with an eye on Mandelbrot. She wasn't going to spend however long she had left in this hellhole. If she was going to die, it'd be at home after as much fun as she could find. The man had not injured Cinquante, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"It's... Difficult. The universes touch eachother at different points, different times. For example, six of the people here were taken from one universe. However, as far as I could tell from my machines, on was taken from over three years before the next in line, and then one was taken a week ahead of those two, one three hours later, and one, a month later." Cinquante gestured towards Amiila, Laksha, the alien and serial killer, the main Terrian, and then Summer.
"Such processes are indecipherable even with the best of my calculations. If we can get to the backup location, then I can get you back to your time and place, or at least within a month and ten miles of where you last were. I may have been rushed, but I didn't forget to record the appropriate information." He tapped the side of his head twice.
"Backup location?" Ti stepped closer, a note of optimism filtering into her voice.
"About ten miles from here. With sundown upon us, we should be able to sneak there in about two and a half hours, and take it back from the forces that have been stationed in it." Cinquante sighed.
"It was taken by their forces yesterday, pushing me to this present location. I'm not sure whom would be there, but it is likely that at least a few of the more technologically adept powers in the Hand of God's service will be waiting for us there. Not to mention the local fauna, which comes out fairly soon. We're not out of the woods yet."
"Oh, wonderful. I'm guessing we're heading into them, then." Ti resumed clambering down the slope, following the man's example. Clearly, they were seeking the valley, for whatever reason. The man had not been clear on why, but following the native tended to be a good idea.
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Post by hermes on Nov 3, 2009 6:40:07 GMT -5
Prime was riding his new bike, pushing the electric monstrosity to its limits. The EM-P driven wheels were pushing the bike up to three hundred kilometers an hour, his specially designed suit and helmet designed to minimize air drag, and keep downforce on his legs and back, keeping him firmly on his fast moving vehical.
He was just turning a corner when a half transparent, turquoise sphere enveloped him. It followed him for a microsecond, then suddenly collapse.
He could feel himself being turn in every direction, the only thing solid and real was the bike below him. He was stuck in a space between dimensions, someone had tried to teleport him without sufficient power, and without an auto-abort command. He made a point of noting that, so he could nail whoever created the spell or machine that drove him, to the proverbial wall.
____
Deep, heavy breathing. Slow and steady, measured. It was paced carefully, maximizing the flow of oxygen through his body. Muscles tense, perfectly fueled, moved willingly through endless forms. Every form a new, and seperate creation. Following a black sword through the forms, as much a wielding it. The Dance of the Black Heron, the school of physics breaking swordsmanship.
Sero was its founder, and its oldest practitioner. There had, of course, been style like it before, but none had stepped outside of the world so thoroughly, and attempted to view it through different eye's.
His was an empty mind, devoid of desire and compassion. It was an objective world, based on objectives, but only while in combat. He was, after all, still human. For now.
A turqoise oval surrounded him suddenly, and with a flick of his foot he sought to escape through the semi-transparent barrier that enveloped him, but the barrier collapsed on him mid leap, taking him somewhere else entirely.
____
Prime appeared...elsewhere, moving at high speed.
"Shit!" He choked out, he was driving through air. And thus not driving at all, but falling. He was over top of a large building, and quickly moving away from it.
Somewhere flashed in front of him, and suddenly there was a young man standing on a piece of stone in mid air. It had hardly had time to start falling, before Prime hit the boy headlong, the full on throttle picked up extra speed from driving across the short space of the rock, and they were sent headlong through treetops and over a hill.
Prime landed perfectly on the down slope of the hill, ten point landing, grasping the boys hand as they went, he pulled him onto the bike, and breaking to a sharp halt about twenty feet beyond the bottom of the hill.
He spotted Terrian, about halfway down the same hill behind him.
"Yo!" Prime called, "Any idea whats going on here Terrian? This has a weird aura, we on a parallel Earth or what?" He asked, having already had experience with... A similar event, it didn't seem like to much of a stretch.
OOC - The motorcycle is assumed to appear above the building, because the space inside the building isn't enough to contain and object moving at that speed. The machine reacted to this by sending him elsewhere. Likewise, Sero appeared in mid air because of the high velocity he was moving at, though the physics of tear don't quite work the same...elsewhere.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Nov 4, 2009 15:35:30 GMT -5
After his duplicates had merged with him again, Terrian dusted off a spot on the windswept rock and sat down some distance from Cinquante. The more he heard the strange man speak, the more he slumped forward, until before long his hands were buried in his hair. He shuffled his feet a bit from side to side. He was beginning to properly come to terms with the fact of being here.
While Cinquante, Mandelbrot and Ti's discussion continued, Terrian became aware that Laksha had sat down beside him when he heard her shudder slightly.
"Good," he said under his breath. "Stick by me, that's a good move. You've pretty much got to be my bodyguard."
Laksha looked at him. In the receding light, the area around her eyes looked very dark. "No..." she said, confused. "You're the one who's protecting me, aren't you?"
"Oh man, right, the pansy who can turn into a dozen pansies." Terrian's lips pulled back in an amused half-grimace. "Look, walls may be no match for my colossal power, but all this Hand of God stuff... technologically advanced whatever-Cinquante-said... Throwing a bunch of me at them doesn't sound like much help." He gestured toward the Pokeballs fitted to her belt. "Basically what I'm saying is, I wish I'd had the foresight to bring along a firebreathing lava slug today. Definitely'd be feeling a little more confident about whatever's ahead."
Laksha tilted her head as she regarded him. "Is that so?"
"The so-est."
"Well."
Terrian noticed she was smiling for, come to think of it, the first time since she'd arrived here.
"I suppose I'll see what I can do to keep you safe then, Mr. Terrian Brogue."
He exaggerated a sigh of gratitude and leaned back, resting his palms on the plateau. "Thanks," he said. "Feel better already."
Which was around when he noticed a figure astride a motorcycle coming to a stop at the foot of a nearby dune. The rider was familiar. In fact he called out a question to Terrian. But Terrian found it difficult to answer. He was suddenly laughing too hard. He fell back onto the rock surface and laughed some more. He was aware that Laksha was looking down at him quizzicallly, but so much the better for her if she didn't understand how ridiculous all this was. The arrival from nowhere of Prime on a bike neatly capped off the insane dream logic churning the gears of this little scenario.
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Post by hermes on Nov 6, 2009 13:33:06 GMT -5
OOC: Prime is on a motorcycle, Sero is sitting behind him on said machine. I'd suggest you may want to cover these two points..
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Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 14, 2010 23:22:16 GMT -5
OOC: Sorry to be bother and force you two to undo your work (Prime, Pohatu), but I'd been hoping that Prime would bring in a character from Tyr to this thread. Since as is, it's already kinda an ORP sausagefest, and then there's Laksha, who's TECHNICALLY ORP (since she showed up in Ishkabibble.)
Would this be okay with you guys? If we can't reconcile this, I guess I'm okay with letting this topic die. It's not that important, and no plots rely on it in the future. But if we could get it running again, that'd be cool, and help set up some stuff for BB in the Crystal series.
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Post by ch00beh on Sept 15, 2010 4:57:06 GMT -5
OOC: Damn you Lee! I thought this was a real post.
Maybe I'll zap in someone from Aleta. Who knows!
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Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 15, 2010 7:21:58 GMT -5
OOC: Well, who do we have who's inextricably linked to the action right now? Cinquante (Remora), Terrian (ORP), Laksha (PRP), SHC (APCARP...RP), Sly (ORP), Amiila (ORP, past), Mandelbrot (ORP).
Yeah, we could fit another single RPer and maybe two more characters before things got too rough. Luckily, since they all've been in fairly insular mini-groups, this avoids the whole Shrinking Feeling issue.
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