Fantasy Ancients: Chaos Unravels

[the-best-tank]

In each world, there is supposed to be some kind of order. Rules they go by. Some are more obvious, some less. Some are forgotten and never appear again. But they are still there. And not everyone follows them. So what's the point? Why do we need to follow any kinds of rules? Because of dignity? Honour? Pity?

I think it's time to change some things. What if we were the gods? Let's play a little.

Let's erase lines between all worlds that have ever existed. Let's allow chaos to unravel and take control of all the universes.

Why?

Because I'm bored.

Sincerely,
The Professor of Void.
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Rules:
- When introducing a character, you should give the basic information; traits, looks, personality, etc.
- No godmodding and controlling characters that don't belong to you.
- No powers that mess with spacetime.
- There is a background in the story but it's not that important. The thread focuses on trying to survive in a strange world without rules.
- Everyone creates the story.
- There is no Game Master of any sort. This is a very loose RP.
- If you want to introduce a new thread to the story that limits control of the characters or influence them greatly, you need to get the approval of all roleplayers that want to get involved in the event.
- The roleplayers have the right to interact with NPCs however they want. If you decide that you need to kill them because they committed a crime - go for it.

How the world works:
- This is a one gigantic super-world. A mashup of different universes and timelines, all blended into one.
- Because of the omnipresent chaos, it is common for unexplainable anomalies to appear. Flying skyscrapers that are alive. Noodle-eating cars with wings. Giant rats with human faces and living underwater. Anything is possible.
- There is no point in making a map. The world constantly shifts and changes.
- Of course, along with the universes appeared different characters. Let's see if Adolf, Voldemort and Darth Vader like chamomile tea.
- Because of the different anomalies that may occur, in different places, your character's power might start differently or stops working at all. Your character may also start acting in a strange way.
- Because of the gigantic mashup of everything, nobody's overpowered or immortal.
- It is possible to see one character in several different versions because there might exist very similar universes

Discussion Thread
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START
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Deep indigo eyes scanned the area, cat-like pupils narrowing at the disturbing light that was bouncing off the pure white snow on the ground. Phaexia's black combat boots were leaving deep marks in the cold puffiness and her black wings were pitifully dragging behind her form. What a pain. Because of the cold and some weird powers they weren't able to fly or feel her wings in any way. Quite annoying. Especially when one's not used to going on foot.

They couldn't feel the cold. They couldn't really feel any temperatures. But her body certainly reacted to it, seeing as her fingers were turning a beautiful shade of purple and her nose, cheeks and pointy ears were tinted rose. They didn't care though. They just wanted to get out of the non-flying zone. Around them was nothingness. A plain field looking as if it had absolutely no end. Except for one tiny dot on the horizon. Phaexia was heading right there. It was dark at the moment but it seemed that an afternoon sky was blending in some points from some other universe.

A feather twitched. A bone twitched. A whole wing twitched.

Only a few meters from the dot that turned out to be a small tavern Phaexia was able to feel her wings again. With a small smile, they flapped them before folding them neatly on her back and entering the tavern.

From the outside, it looked like a tiny hut that was going to fall apart any second. But on the inside everything looked amazing. Gigantic rooms, expensive furniture, professional service and the food certainly must be the highest of qualities possible. The daemon wasn't too interested in food at the moment though. There was a bar beautifully presenting itself on the left wall of the grand room. Shining, deep emerald counter with a few glasses and ashtrays scattered around, tall barstools with crimson red seats, looking as if made of satin and silver. The bartender was quite a handsome one too. Perfectly styled raven black hair, a delicate beard and moustache and the most mesmerizing sapphire eyes a man could ever possess.

Phaexia walked up to the bar and sat down in one of the stools before leaning against the counter, doing their best to make her juicy breasts look as appealing as possible. They fluttered her amazingly long black eyelashes and her midnight black, full lips opened to say, "Hallo, handsome. Vhat vould you recommend for somebody like me?"

 

[SuperiorOnion]

The sounds of laughter and cheering were all Tart could hear. Were these cheers for him possibly? After all, he had been preforming in this tavern for quite some time. A thought that the people of this establishment were tiring of his performance kept creeping its way into his mind. Tart cast the thought aside and stopped playing his instrument. A gust of wind from a nearby open window began to bother the small gnome. He stepped down from his stool and slung his lute around his shoulder resting it on his back. Tart gazed at the hat full of coins at his feet and began to count his earnings for the day. He always made it a point to play around drunks, for they tip the best. This was a tavern and by god if he wasn't going to partake in the drinking himself.

He pushed his way through the crowded room towards the bar. Movement from across the room caught his eye. He saw what seemed to be.. a daemon? It has been a long time since Tart had laid eyes on a daemon. It nearly caught him off guard. Through the thick crowd of people moving around and shoving each other all he could see of the daemon was the tip of her wings as she too made her way to the bar.

Tart quickened his pace in attempts to beat the daemon to their mutual destination. However his short legs could only carry him so fast.

Unfortunately he had not reached the bar in time and the daemon had already sat down. He still approached with a sense of awe. Staring, and staring. At some point it would began to become rude, but Tart didn't care at the moment.

Finally reaching the bar, after what had seemed an everlasting journey for the gnome, Tart climbed his way onto one of the tall bar stools. He made sure that he would be in line of sight of this daemon. Examining every aspect of her, every movement, every extremity. The way she took sips from her goblet seemed so elegant, yet deadly in some way. He tried to build up the courage to say something and yet nothing came out.

Tart reached to his side and pulled his pan flute from his belt. He began playing the first song his grandfather taught him when he was a child. The song was meant to deliver a warm feeling to those who heard it. Each note leaving the flute sounded softer and smoother than the last. The calming tone flowed through him as he cast his song onto the surrounding crowd including the daemon in hopes she would notice him.

 

[the-best-tank]

The daemon managed to get a free drink from the bartender with her amazingly charming skills. They kept flirting with him from time to time taking a sip of her vibrantly coloured cocktail. It seemed that the man was quite interested in spending some time with her after work. It would be great. Phaexia had been hungry for some love for a while now and only now were they going to get some.

They did notice the little gnome, feeling his gaze on her figure. What was he thinking?

Phaexia's face stayed calmed as she continued to charm the poor bartender, looking as if they were absolutely oblivious to the tiny stranger's presence.

"...I can't believe zhat such a handsome man like you, Herr Fauren, works at such a place like zhis," they said, her heavy German accent adding to her performance. "Do zhey at least pay you how zhey should?-" They didn't get to finish her sentence when the gnome started playing his instrument.

Phaexia turned her gaze towards the stranger slightly raising her pierced eyebrow. The tune wasn't really working on them and only made them bored, her eyes giving off a faint glow of mild annoyance. They just kept watching the gnome for a while before turning her gaze to her drink. They stirred it a bit, silently waiting for the midget to stop his music.

 

[SuperiorOnion]

As Tart played his flute he glanced at the daemon who didn't seem at all like she was enjoying his presence. His heart, for a moment, sank and a feeling of disappointment welled up inside him. A sudden shiver took Tart by surprise as he felt a cold feeling of metal on his back. A heavy hand found rest on his shoulder and kept Tart from moving even the slightest bit.

"Drop the hat gnome!" a voice with a deep undertone rang in Tarts eardrums. The smell of alcohol reeked from the masculine figure.

Many thoughts began to race through Tarts head as he knew he couldn't give this man all of his earnings for this week. No. He had to act now, before he lost any chance at all. Tart reached for his hat and pulled it off. The man released his grasp on tart thinking that he had intimidated the gnome into submission. However, Tart dropped his hat to the floor and jumped off of his stool. A small thud on the floor was all his small frame could make on impact and in almost an instant Tart had ducked between his opponents legs and drawn his short sword. He slashed at the back of his legs and the man fell to his level. Tart walked around the man and came face to face with one of the ugliest mugs he had every seen. A mess of jumbled teeth, not to mention the plentiful amount of scars scattered about.

Tart examined the mans face, "It seems you've got something on your face, let me get that for you." Tart pulled his arm back and then sent it flying towards the mans face. He heard a few gasps from around the room as the impact of his fist left a giant red mark on the mans cheek. "Seems iv'e got it for you!" Tart seemed very pleased with himself, until he noticed that in the mans hand was a tankard needing to be refilled. Tart saw no weapons aside from his own. "What the hell pip squeak!" The mans voice cracked and trembled in confusion. "I just couldn't see the bartender over that there hat of yours."

A loud voice traveled over the mumbling of the crowed. It seemed to be the owner of the establishment working his way towards Tart. The proprietor was a rather rotund troll who wire the finest linens and held a cane in his hand with a basilisk handle. "What have you done?"

"I- I.. I'm sorry sir. There was a bit of miscommunication, that's all." Tarts voice softened near to a whisper. He glanced over at the man whose legs he hand slashed. He was being treated by one of the waiters and being walked towards the back of the house.

"I want you out of this tavern at once! And we will never see you here again, understood?" The troll spoke with aggression towards Tart. "Be glad i'm not involving authorities in this matter."

Tart picked his hat off of the floor while avoided eye contact with anyone surrounding the event that had just transpired. "I'll be on my way then." As Tart walked toward the door, the people in the way cleared a path for him. He approached the door which had three sizes in it to accommodate different sized customers. Tart, of course, made his way to the smallest of the three. The handle of the door had shining polish to it that reflected light right into his eye. He reached his hand out for the door knob and twisted it pulling the door open. A gust of the freezing winter air pushed past him as he set out into the night.

 

[the-best-tank]

Witnessing the whole situation was amazing. Phaexia would have never thought that such a tiny individual could do so much harm. A smile was widening more and more on her lips with every minute of the magnificent performance they had received. They weren't able to stop the loud laugh that escaped her lips right before the gnome left. A sincere, beautiful laugh sounding as if tiny angelic bells started ringing around the place. There was pure joy visible on her features.

The bartender and the patrons surrounding the daemon looked at her a bit questioningly, not understanding why they were laughing but Phaexia brushed it off. Once her laughter died down they looked at the bartender with a wide smile.

"Is zhat gnome a regular here? I actually vant to talk to him," they said before finishing off her drink and winking at the bartender. "I'll catch you later, handsome."

The daemon got up and then started making her way towards the exit. They were really curious about that midget that had caused all the ruckus and they wanted to learn a little bit about him. Her wings shifted at the feeling of the winter cold air and her pointy ears twitched. They looked around looking for the gnome. He shouldn't be that far away.

Phaexia's eyes widened suddenly. They were able to sense... something. Something was approaching this place and it seemed that it was hostile. Or at least that's what the daemon was thinking. There were sounds of heavy footsteps audible in the area and it seemed as if it got much warmer than before as if that little piece of land was locked in a bubble that was buried deep in the very heart of a volcano.

The daemon was trying to localise the thing but there was nothing they could notice so far. Was that thing invisible?

 

[SuperiorOnion]

Tart had not been that emarrased for a long time. He made his way away from the tavern in search for the nerest from of shelter. At this point he wouldnt complain about anything as long as he was out of this cold. He had decided to follow the stone path that ran parellel to the entrance of the establishment. A constant thought of regret was percing his mind.

As Tart conintued on for what seemed like miles and miles for his little gnome legs, he eventualy stubbled onto the edge of a forest. It was extreamly dark and the only form of light he had was that of a magic he had to create with music. But did he want to risk being a target for predetors. There was nothing, from what he could see, that resembled any structure. Yet his little legs carried him forward. Tart had to keep rubbing his arms harder and harder with every gust of wind that rushed past him. The sounds of the forest were not welcoming either.

This had been far enough. He had reached a point where he could just barely see the exit of the forest, just in case he had to make a run for it. Tart stumbled upon a little den that seemed to be out of use by any creature for a long time. "Good enough for me." he said as he gatherd some sticks for a fire.

He set the sticks in the center of the den and pulled his lute from around his sholder. He began playing a tune to start the fire. Magic was a beautiful thing, the way that he could see the energy spiralling around the center creating the friction to start the flame. It was mesmerizing. The fire started, and Tart sat as close as he safely could. He was proud of himself for sucessfully starting it with such ease.

To the left side of the den Tart had found some large leaves. Possible used as the creatures bedding when it was in use. He used them as a makeshift door to block the light of the fire and to preovide perhaps some insolation. He made sure however to leave enough room for the smoke to escape. Tart wans't going to get any sleep that night, and he knew that from the second he was kicked out of that damned tavern.