Fantasy The World that Never Was. (Still Recruiting!)

[Tronethiel]

Grimm stood at the helm of the airship, his cloak of shadows billowing about him, and began to speak aloud in wraspy tones, "There is a time in every person's life when they must seize the threads of fate and weave a tapestry for the ages. The product of this time brings forth a monument to their their legacy, their greatness, and to all the things for which they desire to be remembered. For I, this was such a time, and I will spew forth a life of art. Art such as the Cathedral had never seen, accomplishments of which the likes no man, nor woman, could fathom. This is my time and like a blood-crazed frothing mustang aflame I will ride it to victory, to recognition. to..."


Would you be so kind as to stop muttering such idiocy at the wind. You know I can hear you right? It's bad enough that I can hear you thoughts much less having to listen to your aimless ranting . Wraith interjected.


Grimm frowned beneath the folds of shadow surrounding his face. "I told you not to interrupt me when I'm monologuing. Now shut up and billow."


I thought you were supposed to be the dark and brooding archetype. Your present mutterings sound much too knightly and valorous. That however, is besides the point, you are annoying me.





"Damn, you might be right," Grimm said. "I'm might have to give it a bit more thought. For now I'll just stare into the distance a steady pulse of dread. You'd better pick up the billowing asap."


Demons! This is not what I..


"I said shut up and billow!"


Grimm poised his feet and bent his shoulders forward, lifting his gaze towards the sky. This will do for now, he thought as people began to gather behind him on the ship's deck. He glanced backward, trying to see what the commotion was about. They were all looking past him, so he returned his gaze to the skyline. The Cathedral loomed ahead of them, piercing the sky like the finger of some forgotten ancient. Yes, this would do quite nicely, a most fitting backdrop for the dark wonders that would soon fill his future as an exorcist. He spoke out again in raspy tones, but this time someone was around to here. "Let us see then what the tides of time bring, what the waves of fortune deliver....Attempt to crush us beneath your fury oh evil flood, we shall beat you back, we shall prevail!" With that Wraith's billowing intensified and Grimm looked on in anticipation.

 

[TheLoneRook]

Rook had never rolled his eyes so strongly before in his life. The Bishop was using his rank as a means of executing his own preferences, considering most people who saw Creativity simply smirked and went about their way. He'd been the only one to complain about the little spirit's odd habits, which didn't give Rook any inclination to simply pack up and do as he was told.


Even still, he supposed the slime was probably an argument he couldn't refute. There was a girl now, another new recruit. She seemed nice enough, she hadn't regarded Creativity with the same disdain as Mr. Big Britches Bishop. Not wanting to be rude, Rook nodded to the girl gently. "Apologies, it would seem that being the old man in the new crowd has its perks. Hope he didn't give you a poor first impression, not everyone here is hellbent on formalities. If you'll just give me one second..."


Rook took a few steps forward and brought in a long, deep breath. He pointed his index finger towards the ground and steam rushed off of his arm as a stream of scalding-hot water shot from his fingertip and started the clear Creativity's mess away. He had the floor cleared shortly and the water evaporated almost as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a relatively hot, misty, but clean space.


Rook turned back to the girl to find pawprints that showed Creativity had already fled the scene of his crime, the kindled figured it was better that he didn't know where it was going this time. He regarded the girl and held out his hand, though it was a bit damp. "Rook Cloudborn, I'd spend more time introducing myself but I worry if I do we might both be in a tight situation. Best not to make our 'superior' wait."


@Veirrianna Valentine @SayGoodKnight

 

[Euclid Leaf]

...

​

Anelle walked with a taut stride, her eyes glaring as she saw a scuffling scene just outside the Grand Hallway. It only took her a single glance at the small oozing trail to recognize it was probably the work of a local spirit, one which the Pages liked called 'Creativity'. She didn't mind them playing with it as long as they cleaned up after the damn pest, but seeing as it brushed against the side of her boot, dripping oddly hued slimy matter all over her feet, this was something she could not tolerate. There was no such thing as the dry cleaners in the Divide. Everything was hand-washed, by spirits nonetheless. While their services may be cheap and efficient, they were not the most considerate of workers. Articles disappear or get damaged all the time. And she had just had that boot replaced too.


Bending down and scooping up the spirit in one hand, making sure to keep it at a distance from her, she muttered a short incantation. The wind spiraled and whooshed around her, a flaming ring erupting in the air below. From within, all one could see was a black void, an endless abyss. It gazed at her with round, pleading eyes, only to meet a cold gaze in return. Without another second to spare, the small creature whimpered as it was dropped into a fiery portal. But she didn't kill the thing. Alena would not permit such a thing. Spirits were regarded as citizens around here.


Merely plopping it back out the perimeter would do. Give or take a dozen miles.


Turning to the group, she approached and gave them a frank glance each, recognizing all but one.


"Greetings, Cardinal Varrin and Page Rook." she nodded to them, "You two should be at the courtyard. We wouldn't want be rude to the arriving Pages. Some only get to experience but this single day of celebration here... so we should make it count."


Anelle allowed them finish the rest of that thought, turning her eyes to the horned one. She seemed to peer at them for a long time, as though coming to thought of it herself.


"You must be... Lanni McArthur." her green eyes swirling with essence, "I've heard of your work elsewhere. Impressive on paper, but you have much to prove here, cleansed one. I don't judge until I have seen something for myself." bending over low, her voice went to a faint whisper as she spoke into Lanni's ear, "Let this be a warning. If you ever turn upon my fellow comrades. I will personally find you. And give you a fate far worse than eternity in Hell." the last word dripped with such intensity, the air surrounding seeming to shrivel. She seldom broke composure like this, even just a bit.


Rising up Anelle now had a grin, her best attempt at one at least, "But until then, you have my warmest welcome. Follow Varrin to the meeting place. I wouldn't want you to miss out on the opening ceremony."


She then immediately turned away from them, "If anyone asks, I'll be there shortly. There is something I must tend to before the arrival of our new members."

...

​

@Veirrianna Valentine

 

[TheLoneRook]

Rook heard the click of hard heels against the ground, and a stride he was all too familiar with. "Cavalry's arrived." he muttered to himself. Anelle was a demon in her own right, but she commanded respect, and that was something that Rook admired her for, even if she did have a temper as fiery as the radiance of her soul. He hadn't heard what his commander has said to the newcomer, but he knew the stance of her form, and the tone that she brought to the horned girl. He'd had a very similar talking to himself the day he arrived, but he had since earned the commander's tolerance, at least. He looked to Lanni after Annelle strolled away in her constant busy-body mood that she was always in.


"I'm not the type to make assumptions, but if she's taken the time out of her day to give you a firm whispering to, I'd suggest you heed her words very carefully. This is not the place where you will find mercy and patience, that much I do know." Rook heard the pitter-patter of tiny little paws and turned to find Creativity waddling back from who knows where. The tips of some of his fur was a bit singed, but he still wore his same small smile. His ooze production had ceased, at least on his feet. The substance could still be easily spotted under his fur, but it looked like the little tike had learned his lesson somehow.


"You've been doing it just to peeve them, haven't you?" Creativity was silent, but there was an air of guilt around the little thing as it hurriedly waddled away towards the airship's drop point. Rook chuckled and followed behind, waving at Lanni to follow. "Get a move on, before we both get pinned as criminals."

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

Narrowing her eyes in her best attempt to keep from instinctively pushing away Annele. Physical closeness was not a personal preference of hers, and with how uncomfortably close she leaned, and with the words that followed, all Lanni could do was clench her teeth and bear with it.


Letting out a brief sigh of relief when the woman finally leaned back and walked away, Lanni couldn't help but let her attitude of the woman fall to darker thoughts of disgust and anger as she walked away. Everyone liked to think that because they knew daemons, they knew her. The logic was a fallacy of course, because there wasn't much in recorded history of daemons turning from their paths, which would mean they knew a lot less than they thought. Still, it felt like a dark cloud had settled over the girl as she scowled, listening to the other Page, Rook, speak.


'You would be hard pressed to find such a fate,' she thought in regards to Annele, before returning words to Rook as he walked ahead of her, "Mayhaps you should stick to keeping your assumptions to yourself."


Casting her eyes around, Lanni then sought out Cardinal Varrin. At least he seemed to be easier to get along with.

 

[SayGoodKnight]

Though Varrin was pleased to see the green slime scoured from the floor, he felt no positive emotions towards the arrogant Page before him. Clearly the man didn’t understand what his purpose was nor did he understand that following an order or trusting a superior’s judgement often meant the difference between life and death in their line of work. He would learn soon enough. “My impression of you has hurtled wildly past suspicion and into a firm foundation of doubt. But that should be the least of your worries. Formalities has nothing to do with it so much as a fundamental flaw in your perspective of this organization as a whole. I didn’t wind up where I am because of adherence to formalities. I am in the position I am because of hard work and common sense.” He looked him over disdainfully. “The latter of which you may well lack entirely.” He looked back to the girl and hoped she would not be so agitating as the taller man between them.


He had some hope that Anelle would take the burden of these “special” pages from him seeing as he rarely gave tours of the Cathedral or participated very much in the arrival of new recruits but he swallowed any hope of that after Anelle greeted him and then instructed both recruits (one thoroughly verbally thrashed and the other too stupid not to know not to spout advice concerning the red headed bishop) to follow him to the meeting place. “Yes of course Bishop. This way you two.” He walked ahead glumly, his rapidly souring mood evident by the subtle purple puffs of miasma beginning to roll off of his heels as he walked. He glanced at Rook and then to little Lanni. She made it clear what she thought of Rook’s little statement so he didn’t address that. He always considered it a waste of breath to go over the same material twice. He did, however, address Lanni directly.


“I’m sure you aren’t worried, you don’t look like the type. But I’ll briefly reassure concerning whatever it is our dear Bishop had to say to you. You are here for a reason. You have great potential. Live up to it and you will earn everyone’s respect, including Bishop Anelle’s. Now then, the recruits should be here shortly.” He stood near the front of where they’d file in with his two little rejects and wondered why it was the universe so often sought to make his life more difficult than necessary. “Should have taken that job in the city. Hunting manitcors is easily preferable to this.” He grumbled to himself then pursed his lips tightly. Idle chatter was idle still.

 

[TheLoneRook]

Rook chuckled. The Cardinal must have meant well, but he of course made the mistake of treating Rook as someone who was new to this world, not something he wasn't used to, but still pretty funny considering his circumstances.


"Good Cardinal, I have lived in this realm since before your ancestors' ancestors were born. If these statements you make had even a tinge of truth to them, I'd have been dead long before today." he replied simply.


"Old eyes wish to see new faces..." a small voice whispered on his shoulder. Rook sighed and nodded, lifting his arm up to extend his finger to the little demon. Psykronis' tail extended in response and curled around him before his body billowed up in steam and the little thing grew and extended into the wicked blade that it was. "You were right, Rook. Angry people with angry faces." the awoken artifact crooned, his voice ragged like a stone against steel. Rook couldn't help but smirk.


"They don't like me because I'm old, and they don't like you because you're still alive." Psykronis let out a low grumble of a laugh.


"Well I can at least understand their distaste for me." In their time together, Rook had learned that Psykronis was known in the demon ranks as The Observer, and was highly regarded for being a demon that fought alone, without aid of army or legion. The first 300 years of their time together Psykronis had held a cruel disdain for Rook, but with time the demon realized that Rook needed him as much as he needed Rook. However, they found that when two warriors from opposing sides learned to cooperate, they were quickly shunned by both groups. The demons considered any who partook in Cursed Artifacts to be traitors and stripped them of all titles. Now, Rook was starting to worry that joining the ranks of the Exorcists might even do them more harm than good.


"You there, Bishop man. Ever heard of Golzen, the Divider?"

 

[Hauvlex]

The wind drifted in its unpredictable patterns of tenderness, lingering upon Knocks moistened brow and chilling her damp roots as she had momentarily given up on her travelings towards a more pleasurable spot to sight the rising Cathedral. The ships eroded surface grumbled like a slumbering beast beneath her calloused palm, the faint heat which radiated off the being comforting as well as unsettling as she attempted to remain upon her feet.


As she undulated as if a slave to a fluent tune creases gradually began to occupy her lower forehead as her expression contorted once more into an unpleasant grimace. Her chapped lips twitched with anticipation, awaiting the appalling sensation of her essence pillaging upwards in a recognizable riot to war against her current silence.


When such a thing failed to occur Knock bellowed a hearty sigh of grateful relief, her nimble fingertips pinching her squared bangs and plucking them from the surface of her head. The young womens orange jacket drifted along her lower abdomen, the thick fabric rippling in foreign waves as the feint jingling of her zipper craddled in front of her interrupted the once again peaceful landscape. Her lime gaze scowwered the brightening horizon for a stray moment, drifting along small wisps of white as she fought to compose herself.


Then, in an almost comedic manner it almost appeared as though her raw edged ears twitched in the slightest as the recognizable noise of footsteps fell through the empty atmosphere.


The rhythmic pattern of a heel gliding to its toe kept a steady tempo as the almost innocent tinkering of metals occasionally accompanied the otherwise generic noise. With a piqued consciousness Knocks attention dragged itself to the individual who strolled towards her in an unsettling silence. With a stature she could infer to be a males she watched as a patch of white slinked through the inky shadows and in her direction. Knocks own shoulders then felt a necessity to move upon their own decision, lifting themselves to feign an appearance which could possibly induce intimidation while her fingers pinched her denim shorts fraying corners. Abruptly without her consent the details which enveloped her being seemed necessary to be aware of, as if the approaching strangers presence was one which could bring misfortune.


"Are you okay?" Was all which he muttered in her direction, his tone weaseled in a sense of amusement into Knock as she picked up an attempt to convey concern which didn't bear fruit, or a plant to begin with. As her lips tipped upwards into a crooked grin she didn't allow an observation as this to slow down her retort which she naturally held on standby.


"Of course I am." She exclaimed it charasmatically appearing almost offended by his worry as her fingers rose to her hips and grasped them. As she did so she measured their overt height difference, an encounter similar to a pit bull and a chihuahua as he towered above her in a way which would cause others to perhaps feel inferior. Though Knock instead enforced her ambitious persona and leaned forward into the mans chest in a social manner, her chin hovering carelessly in front of the white haired mans chest in a way which if he were to yawn the fabric of his shirt would skim her peach fuzz.


"Are you?" With a risen brow the strawberry blonde warred fiercely against the ferocity which swirled as a tornado would within her stomach.


@RyuShura

 

[Euclid Leaf]

Mikhael's brow raised at the sudden change, the girl leaping up with an upbeat tune. He didn't expect such a reaction. For someone so small, they contained a lot of energy. Though even upon her feet and bearing such a confident pose, she still only looked like a child. Something about her candid actions made him feel odd. Maybe it was her smile? Or the fact that she hasn't tried to run away yet. His thoughts traced back the encounter in his head. In that split second he realized something. Her response seemed too quick, as though this was something prepared, an rehearsed act almost. Was she hiding something? The girl seemed to scrutinize him a bit before leaning her body forwards into him and returning the question. This might definitely call for suspicion.


For a moment, he simply gazed down at her, thinking of what to say.


Somewhere down the line, Mikhael remembered his manners and quickly dropped down to one knee, coming to eye-level with the pink blonde. To stand above someone, he discovered, often made them feel rather uncomfortable. Besides, speaking to someone while avoiding eye contact might suggest he was hiding something, which he was not. Rather, he was trying to find out something more from this girl.


His eyes narrowed as he gleamed her expression, this time rather closely. She was definitely struggling with something, the micro expressions of pain and discomfort flashing on her face.


"You seem... troubled." he inquired, tilting his head, "Are you hurt in some way? Shall I request aid from a Cleric?"


@Hauvlex

 

[Hauvlex]

Knocks gaze held firm, sparks of a vibrant gold normally worn by the wealthy appearing in thin slivers within the swarm of bright green as she did so. She could sense her palms moisten against the sleek cloth of her petty coat and nearly moved to press them against her rough, worn shorts before fighting such a thought away. Her thoughts instead centered around appearing collected and stoic just as the man before her seemed to do so with organic ease. The wind whistled beside her ear in a whispering manner which would imply that she could perhaps one day hear the worlds secrets though instead as she intended to she remained meticulous with what actions she'd allow herself to perform and whatever expressions she'd release to the public.


Are we having a staring contest? The kindled nearly growled in question towards the other as his reclusive eyes appeared to observe each twitch her fingers may have or each fluttering of her eyelashes with a lack of gregarious qualities. When abruptly the man no longer loomed above her with a casted shadow but appeared nearly eye to eye with her. The action causing Knocks toes to dig themselves into the ships flooring, her dogmatic persona abetting her to stray from divulging her discomfort. The white haired individual then continued to watch her face, eyes observing through slits before his insipid tone arose once more, questioning whether she was truly alright and if he should venture to find a cleric.


The statement fueled the girl to suddenly twirl to the side, her weight resting upon her left foot as she pressed her arms deep into her rib cage in a fierce manner to convey her slight agitation. Such an event as well though hiding her attempt to apply pressure to her stomach and put its insufferable sensation at bay, a silent trick she had discovered during her last troubling trip through the air.


"Don't crouch like some man asking a women to marry him you tall weirdo." Knock then announced, swallowing the acidic taste which coated the interior of her throat before continuing. "And stop looking at me like that also, at least I don't look like I haven't seen a sun in-" then the walls which she pretended to have built crumbled like the burnt remnants of a worn charcoal stick. The essence wasn't something which she could recover from as her left hand suddenly disappeared from her waist and reappeared over her mouth, creating a dam which would hopefully prevail as her shoulders weakly slumped forward before in a few bundled seconds her hand fell from her pale lips and she released hefty amounts of air as she laced in words.


"Do yourself a favor and try not to breath for a second, unintentional essence doesn't have the best scent for a little."


@RyuShura

 

[TheLoneRook]

Magpie caught wind (ha) of a billowing dark figure at the head of his ship. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, which of course meant he was crazy, because that's how all humans worked. If you talk to yourself, you are then crazy. Quite simple. Even still, the crazy man piqued the bird's curiosity and he flung himself off the edge of the ship and swooped his way to the bow of the ship, perching delicately on the railing beside the dark and shady mumbler. "When birds sing to themselves it sounds pretty. Man sings to himself and fancies himself a looney man. Are you a looney man or do you simply want to be a bird??" Magpie inquired, letting his legs dangle off the side of the ship, the wings on his head fluttering in the breeze.


Magpie was always a very friendly bird, which sometimes got him in trouble, but changing his nature to follow social constructs was not something you'd ever see him doing. He cared for social norms about as much as he knew about them, which was little to not at all. So there he sat, probably blocking someone's view of the cathedral, which he hadn't exactly bothered to look at. He was much more interested in the strangely dark and billowing figure.


"Do you think that you might be looney because you look so much like a dark and spooky foe? Perhaps if you were a colorful bird you would not be so looney."

 

[Euclid Leaf]

"Don't crouch like some man asking a women to marry him you tall weirdo."


This statement invoked many kinds of 'interesting' thoughts for Mikhael, even if the pale man remained stern. It painted a picture in his head. He hadn't intended for it to appear like he was confessing his life, not that he could, but it was a clever correlation. As did the words "tall weirdo", which came off as both strange and humorous. Maybe she was suggesting he was tall and weird, or he was weird because he was tall? He never got insulted for his height before. Normally, it was a point for compliment. But being strange, well, is something undeniable. These contradictions often would lead to someone thinking it funny and laughing.


He would, if he could.


Instead, he just gazed at the animated girl blankly, even when she was telling him to stop.


Despite her tough words, her body went limp as it begged for aid. She had bent over suddenly and began to gag, the essence from before drifting in the air between them.


Mikhael went to her side, thinking that she was afflicted by poison, but he quickly assessed otherwise. This seemed a less extreme reaction to bodily damage. He thought for a moment, his eyes glimmering in remembrance once he found an appropriate thought. He had watched mortal going through the same motions, boat and all. They called this; 'Seasickness'. It had something to do with conflicting signals of the body and mind, one displaying a still world, while the other feels rocky motion.


There was no water around them, so was this must be... 'Airsickness'?


He's never heard of a Kindled experiencing such a thing before, but it was possible. Kindled were both Mortal as well as Ethereal. Thinking of a way to stop her nausea, he reached out and grasped her hand.


Mikhael gazed at her calmly, "Don't panic." as a pale essence began to rise from his body.


The air would feel cold, almost as thought the temperature was dropping, an uncanny feeling that often made even the strongest shudder. His eyes glimmered, the white irises shining just like the lifeless sun above. The white smoke enveloped her, seeking to enter her skin and freeze her physical senses. It was an arcane spell he often used to subdue demons, though toned down a considerable level. Removing one of the reasons for motion sickness should, in theory, stop the condition.


@Hauvlex

 

[Hauvlex]

Knock no longer simulated an aura which radiated power and independence, a heart beat like throbbing grinding into her pale temples mercilessly and coercing her into expression. The young kindled sloppily forced her ragged palm down the outer surface of her thigh while she drifted momentarily into a mental state numbed by subconscious choice. She finally was owed the deed of returning a watchful gaze towards the stranger, her lashes insipidly lacing into one another as if fingers clasping one another.


The mans breath drew near her and Knock attempted to imitate their earlier distance while his soaring figure only performed the opposite and lingered closer. With slight alarm she grew anxious by the thought that she by accident caught the attention of a 'tall perv' rather then a 'tall weirdo', though she could sense pure intentions despite her instincts spitting the opposite nonsense she still made sure to create a barrier between the two. To which, in an unpleasant surprise her quivering hand grew still by the others, Knocks eyebrows knitted into one another ruthlessly, nostrils flaring with an abrupt intake of air which nearly had been jailed in her throat and the cause of a coughing fit.


"Don't panic." Was all the reassurance she had been gifted, as she with what energy she could muster attempted to not throw an obnoxious laugh in the others direction. When without a warning bell or a vibrant sign signaling an alert she no longer existed in the tender warmth of the suns motherly caress but in an abyss only visited by those who passed away. Knocks eyes nearly looked upwards in a useless feat to search for sprinkling snow due to the sudden chill though instead found herself unable to restrain her gaze from the blistering white irises of the other, slowly 'tall perv' turned into 'tall guy who she should really be kicking in the junk.' The Kindled was familiar with these works though the recognizable rawness of freezing temperatures gnawed at her bones and warned her of the dangers of death once again.


The smoke enveloped her within his icy blanket and gradually dissipated and soon it was as though it had never made an appearance.


With a quick flicking of her head to the left and right Knock regained herself from her stupor and with great haste released the others fingers, she couldn't remember grasping his hand though. Before her consciousness could dare to delve into the memory of the past bundle of seconds the young Kindled experienced a peculiar sensation, or the lack of to be more specific, no longer did her muscles ache with tension and neither did her stomach flip with the reminder of her standing on a boat in the air.


"Thanks I guess, tall weirdo." Warmth appeared to seep back into the cracks and crevices of her recovering body, relishing in the moment she took a quaint breath. "I feel like we have a connection now, you and I, you've seen me gag, I've seen you perform your personal party trick. I'm Knock." She spoke in a faster manner as she recovered what energy her earlier predicament had devoured in an act of thievery and held her hand outwards, in this case accepting and initiating the contact.


@RyuShura

 

[Yimik]

Damn it all to hell. Henry was going to march into the cathedral in the unique colour combination that was red and off-white, but he wasn't going to do it with a dagger sticking out of the seat of his pants. Fashion sense was one thing; dignity is quite another, and finally, having tried to just wait out the feeling of absurdity, it would have to be concluded that now, on board a ship for hours with more swords hooked to belts than people to wear belts, there was no excuse for carrying a long dagger in a Jerry-rigged pocket. Like a child sent to bed early, the man left his place on the railing, and it was a miracle the railing didn't sport an imprint from how long one person had slept and leaned on it, rubbing his hands together, for the air was growing warmer, but his hands hadn't yet caught up. Now, who to ask? Who to ask? Bird man probably doesn't have too much experience with belts, and anyways, he was busy talking to Death incarnate. If there was one thing Henry didn't want to do, it was disturb the eerily chanting demon on the prow of the ship, so he steered clear of those two. A towering fully armoured knight packing his spare undies? That sounded a little more inviting. Henry made a bee-line for him back down the deck, the fingers of his right hand brushing across the hilt of his dagger, concerned that placing a hand on it might send it the rest of the way through the mauled pocket.


Henry planted himself beside the preoccupied warrior, keeping his eyes just above the other man's packing, for the sake of politeness, and flicked the end of his problematic dagger, which emitted a dull 'ting'.


"Ah, hello sir. Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand? I seem to have, well..." The sentence petered off as Henry twisted about to show his hip, and the offending pocket. "This." Henry used both hands to gesture sharply at the disaster, his eyebrows dropping slightly into his self-deprecating frown.


"I need this to... not happen."


@TGrape

 

[Tronethiel]

"Do you think that you might be looney because you look so much like a dark and spooky foe? Perhaps if you were a colorful bird you would not be so looney," Asked the strange birdman.


A more stable mind might have been more taken aback at the appearance of such an odd little fellow. Grimm, on the other hand, simply remained poised, letting a silence linger during which to consider his next move. Offbeat conversational partners were not in an infrequent occurrence for Grimm. After all, he had to live with the world's chattiest piece of apparel. When one arrives at the point in life where conversation with one's garments is to be expected, the list of things that can surprise you is very small. Regardless, this bird-man-hybrid seemed pleasant enough. He reached out with his consciousness and tried to sift through the creature's surface emotion. He blinked beneath his shadowy cowl. The emotions were explosive, flitting to and fro like a fickle wind. How appropriate, he thought. This one was hard to get a read on. Or, maybe he wasn't hard at all, just excitable.


Grimm spoke, in barely more than a whisper, "Ah little friend, insane is the name the weak give to men who understand the world in ways they never could. They believe us to be in chains, but ours is a true freedom. Freedom of the spirit and of the mind." With that, Grimm went quiet. It would not do to appear too chatty. He wanted to seem just crazy enough to put people on edge, not so much as to not be taken seriously. Instead, he would take a far more dramatic course of action. Wraith, he thought. I need you to do something for me.


There was a pause followed by a sigh. Well, as much as one can sight mentally anyway. Yes, what is it? I'm certain this is going to be an immensely stupid request.





You're never any fun, Grimm thought. Just listen, our approval ratings are up a solid thirty two percent since you increased your billowing rate. So, I'm just gonna need you to keep taking suggestions buddy. I'm taking us all the way to the top.





You realize I surround your entire body right? If I squeezed hard enough you'd be no more than a juiced exorcist. Liquefied soul essence, For maximum absorption!





Grimm gave the armament a good staring at from the inside the folds of said armament. It was a rather confusing affair, then continued. Whatever threats you feel you need to make are fine as long as you do what your told. Kill me if you like, but say goodbye to just lying around and leeching of someone's soul all day. I doubt anyone else could bear your constant condescension. Now listen, I need you to sprout giant black wings from the back of yourself. They need to be sufficiently large and flutter just the right amount to communicate grace and fearsomeness. Not too much to ask, really.





...I'd contest this further, but honestly I think whatever happens next will probably be worth the bother. I hope you learn your lesson. Wraith drew a small amount of essence from Grimm. It was always a tad salty, and the demon had yet to figure out why that was. He shook the thought and channeled the essence into forming two massive arcing wings. He made each one seven feet long and willed a dark cascading mist to pour from them, rolling across the deck of the ship. That last part hadn't been necessary but he took a secret pride in the craftsmanship of his form that he admitted only to himself. There, it is done. I hope a bishop rips them off and stuffs them up your ass. He faded from Grimm's to watch the disaster ensue.


Perfect, Grimm thought. He turned to the little bird man and exclaimed, trying to make his deep voice resonate even more. "Let us bask in the dark liberation of being both kindled and a bit insane. We go to tread a shadowed road, let us take the first step with great force!" He chuckled softly and then reached down into the well of emotional energy stored within. Grimm didn't know if he could extend his sphere of influence over the whole ship, but he would try. Spreading the wings wide for dramatic effect (this was literally there only purpose), he spewed forth a wave of pure mania over the vessel. Into the mix he threw feelings of liberation, joy, anticipation, and a little insanity. It wasn't entirely clear what effect such a thing would have, but it would certainly be interesting. Grimm strode to the very front of the helm like the majestic icon of a viking vessel and embraced the hysteria, laughing into the wind.


@TheLoneRook @RyuShura @Yimik @Hauvlex @Universalbore

 

[SayGoodKnight]

Varrin's eyes pinned on Rook and for a moment there was a churning of true anger, a rarely witnessed emotion despite the Cardinal's grim disposition. But it faded to a low burn once more. He rolled his shoulders, considered his options and then dismissed them. "You are old Rook, this much is true. But age means nothing to me. I could care less how long you've been out there. Running from demons is not the same as hunting them and until you've proven yourself an exorcist, not some refugee I owe you nothing. I hope they don't assign you to me. Truly I doubt you'll survive training if you're put under my authority." He looked him over. "Even if you did survive Golzen." He flashed a bland smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I won't pretend to be an expert on the affair but your story is not so mysterious as you think." He rolled his shoulders and clasped his hands behind his back, staring into the wide expanse of sky that would soon cradle a fleet of airships. "I have no desire to speak further." He kept his eyes forward. Rook would have to accept his role as a student in the coming days or face the consequences.


Varrin leaned against one of the walls of the courtyard, fingering the worn handle of Justice's Tongue. The whip was heavy and sure against his hip, always at his disposal. The Smile of the Morning had to be summoned but his whip remained with him at all times. Like most of the other exorcists, even new recruits who did not yet understand the dangers of their position, he liked to have some form of weapon within arm's reach. The Cathedral was a safe haven, yes, but one never knew when an enemy might find their way too close. And Varrin had more people than most to protect. He glanced at quite little Lanni, eyeing her wise little face. It was out of place on her waifisn form and yet there was a hard won maturity about her, a heady exhaustion evident in her stature and expression. Rook had something similar, even Varrin wasn't arrogant enough to deny that. He guess many of the "special" cases they were to watch for had similar looks, visible only to a trained eye. His job would begin soon enough. And the traits of wisdom or weariness or fresh excitement would be honed or snuffed out or changed into something else entirely. That was what he looked forward too as the forms of the ships began to peek over the horizon.

 

[Pequeno Burraidh]

For the longest time there had only been one type of person in Lanni's life. Someone dark and twisted, someone she hated who would hurt her. That was how it was.


When she had become free of the mortal realm she made a point to hunt similar people down and deal with them. It was only rational for the amount of hate she had built up throughout her life. Yet despite all of her actions, she never really did want to just hate, it was all she had ever been given the opportunity to do. Then, in her drive for revenge she killed a human whose soul was clean. He had just been a boy, pretending to be a monster so he could track down his kidnapped sister. It was her first revelation that there was more to the world than hatred. It was what led to her Kindling.


And then there were a lot of people in Lanni's life. Too many people, people that treated her with disgust and disdain, or people that annoyed her, and sometimes people that tolerated her. One thing was a constant, however. The people she didn't like the most were those that treated her like a threat, followed up by those that seemed to be antagonistic. Despite her heated attitude and near constant anticipation of imminent violence, what Lanni enjoyed most was the quiet times that she could relax in.


"General respect doesn't mean much to you, does it Rook? You remember what I said about your two pence worth earlier? You should learn to remember it any time your mouth goes away without your brain. I may not have a general trust for most people, but an earned rank comes with an earned respect... Page Rook." chided Lanni, before she turned to Varrin, though not so much that she couldn't see Rook, and spoke to him, "So I understand we will be training with a number of other recruits. What will boarding consist of, and is there a general set of trials that the newer Pages are taken through, or do they simply get soft jobs that the higher ranks don't have time for, Cardinal Varrin."

 

[Mistress of Evil]

"Mundo." Lava said urgently as the feather popped into a million others. Mundo with her arms crossed noticed a figure not far from her, but not close either. Mundo eyed the wings that appeared, its form large much like the mans ego. Lifted into the air, Lava had reappeared holding Mundo in a princess like hold. "It's giving off an effect." Lava replied as feathers began to fall from above his head. Like chapel bells, echos of angels singing sounded with every fallen feather. Like a flower sprouting from its winter wonderland, Lava's ears took its height, his tail growing larger as it wrapped around Mundo's frame. Growing in width, the bushy brown tail covered up Mundo's body creating a furry shield and a warm blanket. From within the shield Lava had gifted Mundo, Mundo's ring began to emit a purple flame. "Everyone is so noisy. All I asked was for some peace and quiet, but noooooo someone has to ruin it." Lava growled at the figure that had walked to the helm of the ship. "What arrogant weasel is trying to pry its way into my master's mind. Its disgusting." The ring barked as its voice darkened and its tone deepened. "Enough of your bickering and fix it." The ring gave silence before a black cloud escaped from underneath Lava's tail. Like a spark, the cloud ignited itself into a shade of black and purple flames. Creating a circle, the flames danced around Lava as it rose in height.


"Aren't you going to ask me to help the others?" Lava looked down toward Mundo who had fallen into slumber. "What other people." "Loyal as always mutt." The ring cackled as its attention turned toward the cause of the power. With a booming sound the ring that was hidden behind the tail spoke up. "You there! Who gave you the authority to release such a global cast. Because of you my master has fallen into a slumber. Explain yourself." Lava who looked down at the man gave him an angry glare. "If He has any bad dreams, I will personally end your life myself." Lava's growl echoed as animals appeared behind him. Resonating with the ring, Lava's essence took form as a white snake coiled around Lava's body. A lion strong and fierce peered over his shoulder, while the mouth of a bear rose over his head.


@Tronethiel7

 

[TGrape]

"Ah, hello sir. Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand? I seem to have, well...this." The man that had randomly approached Mare used both hands to gesture sharply at the disaster, his eyebrows dropping slightly into a self-deprecating frown. "I need this to... not happen."


It took Mare a second to realize exactly what he was talking about. Then, in a flash of realization, Mare bursted into a deep laugh that lasted a couple of minutes. "Hahaha, sorry about that, I've just needed a laugh ever since climbing upon this airship. What do you need? You wanna sew up that pocket or do you need something to hold that dagger of yours?" Mare said this while dangling his finger at the man's dagger.


"In either case, I'm sure I've got what you need somewhere in this bag. I can cut some spare cloth from my clothes to fashion into a belt. That'll probably suffice until we land, whenever that is. Name's Mare by the way." He began digging through his bag searching for an old shirt or faded piece of leather that he could turn into a belt for the poor fellow.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

He felt glad to see that the young girl had recovered, her cheeks growing rosy again and her form standing robust. It was like a flower rising up from a cold morning.


Once again, she uttered a comment he should have laughed at, one he found painted a silly image in his head. To think that two Kindled could form a 'connection' somehow from one watching the other gag and then proceeding to help them. From his experience with her so far, this one seemed to always spouting outrageous things. She had also addressed him as 'Tall Weirdo'. He understood the need for a substitution pronoun because she did not know his name, but why this one? Though it contained an offensive term, he detected no traces of hostility. In fact, she had issued this to him with a warmness.


Maybe this was her way of showing thanks for helping her? Mikhael found it preposterous, but yet again, he held no reaction, merely a blank expression.


"Knock."


Mikhael internalized the name while staring at the outstretched hand for a moment, as though contemplating taking it. He knew that it was accustomed to, but more so, there was something more to it. She offered her name, which would suggest that they had grown more familiar or friendly in some way.


His hand flickering for a moment, as though contemplating something, but he finally reached out. He grabbed her hand gingerly, barely touching. Due to the sheer difference in size, he was afraid he might grasp too hard and hurt her.


"Mikhael." he muttered.


He didn't know why, but it bothered him somewhat that he couldn't return at least some notion of appreciation back. She had allowed him this humoring memory and her companionship no less.


Because he couldn't outright react, he thought of another method. He would form a smile.


This was what was common when expressing feelings of happiness and joy, right? As such, his lips gradually started bending up at the corners. It looked felt like hands trying to mold a body dry clay, the substance while soft still, remained stiff and firmly set. His lower face bent rigidly and unnaturally before it finally resulted in something that he thought felt right. Of course, he just looked rather ridiculous, with the most unnatural expression to adorn a face ever.


Just as he did this, a black mist suddenly enveloped from around them, like a black wave washing over the ship. His smile faded as he assessed the situation. Recognizing the magic as one that elicited madness, though rather weak, he instinctively tried to dodge it alone, but remembered the person standing with him.


He couldn't allow his newly made companion to be assaulted by the foreign magic.


Mikhael suddenly moved very close to her, trying to cover her with his body. He didn't seem to be worried about personal space at this point. He then held out both hands on either side. The pale aura wisped from his form as they flowed out from his palms. It looked as though a faint smokey barrier had formed around them. The pale shield held against the black smoke as though standing against the tide of darkness. But it acted differently as one would expect. Upon making contact with the white essence, the mist did not flow around, but instead, inwards. He seemed to be absorbing it somehow.


@Hauvlex

 

[TheLoneRook]

Rook sighed, addressing the comment of the blue horned girl. "No, I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. Rank is but a title. Its merit is decided by those who created it, and the only value it possesses is that which others choose to give to it. If everyone decides that the Exarch's rank is nothing more then a name, then no one will have any reason to follow her. What people rely on to decide who to obey is based on what they are capable of, not the title they bear." he explained,resting Psykronis on his shoulder as he looked out at the airship coming down.


"You see, respect is something that is earned. I will not respect someone because they tell me to, or because their title is shinier than mine. I will respect someone who acts in a manner that befits respect. I believe Cardinal Varrin has the capacity to do so, but for whatever reason at this moment he seems more interested in petty complaints about pets than getting the job done and learning a thing or two along the way. So, for now, I have no true reason to respect him. That, however, like anything in this world, can change suddenly and without warning. In this case, something I hope to witness." Rook finished, giving the girl a gentle stare. It was obvious she wasn't new to the game of this world, but she had things to learn herself. Not the same things he had to learn, but her own individual lessons.


"The energies on that airship are vibrant to say the least. Looks as though something is making them fluctuate. Parlor tricks before landing hm? Risky behavior."


Rook nodded, odd enough it was.





@Veirrianna Valentine


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Magpie had felt something strange, something that made his head a bit dizzy for a moment, but he shook himself a bit and felt fine afterwards. "Spoken like a true looney, dark man. They call a bird Magpie. What do they call dark and looney men?" he asked, wondering about the Kindled's name. If Grimm were to look at Magpie's head, he'd see that the trailing white breeze around him carried a purple wisp that was Grimm's own magic, caught like an arrow shot into a whirlwind. Magpie himself didn't even notice the little breeze that always traveled around his head, leaving him completely unaware of anything different about the ship, save for some strange laughter.


"People make good jokes at high altitudes, hm? Dark and looney has a knack for comedy." Magpie commented, assuming that the reason everyone was acting so strangely was a result of Grimm's statement, and not so much the strange spell he cast. The bird's ineptitude for social structure left him often confused as to the actions of the people around him, but he didn't let things like that bother him. He simply followed the wind, waiting for whatever was to come next in his little adventure called life.


With time the purple wisp faded away from Magpie's cranial gust, and he whimsically hopped off the railing and into the open sky, laying gently across the thermals that carried him so effortlessly, waiting patiently for Grimm's surely interesting reply.


@Tronethiel7

 

[Yimik]

For many a millennium, mankind has striven to achieve the perfect combination of a rugby tackle, a hug, and a handshake. Or, at least, had this been the case, a dead man named Henry, on an airship with the devil, would have made history as a mist wrapped around his head, for he swiftly pulled off this feat of multitasking, throwing himself on to the man he was talking too, a warped grin plastered across his face. What was a few seconds a reasonable, level-headed man was now upon his new friend, driving him back but a little, one arm flung around this tall victim, the other seizing the fabric of his tunic and shaking with either joy or terror. An explosion of energy, red and brown and orange, like autumn leaves, flowered around the practically possessed Henry's head at the first gentle touch of the dark mist. His voice, known to be overly loud normally, now boomed as he leaped for Maren the friend, Maren the victim.


"THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! You are so kind! A belt! A belt! A belt for it to hang from! A BELT FOR THE BEAUTIFUL DAY!"


Within the confines of Henry's skull, voices raged. Reason fought for silence, panic for resistance and both were cut down by dark foreign voices telling him to be joyful, to be free. Veins stood out on the man's forehead. His body continued to shake, the tears mingling with his wild laughs.


@TGrape

 

[Tronethiel]

"The name is Grimm, pleasure to make your avian acquaintance." he said to Magpie as his wings evaporated.


Suddenly, a voice boomed from behind Grimm saying,"You there! Who gave you the authority to release such a global cast. Because of you my master has fallen into a slumber. Explain yourself."


Grimm turned to meet the voice and found a rather wild looking individual. Even more so than his new bird friend. He took a few steps forward and then straightened himself, shadowy cloak rolling about him in the crisp air flowing across the deck. Across from him stood a strange fox-like humanoid. He, at least he thought it was male, was practically drowning in fur and a strange white snake had begun to coil around the exorcist's body. Apparently some interesting things had already begun to transpire due to his empathic waves. He maintained his hold on the spell and poured a bit more essence into the link, sending out another ripple of emotional force. He wouldn't be able to hold it for too long, but he didn't the fun to end yet. "Indeed," he rasped, "I have done what I have done. What will you do?" He lifted his hand and wove words of power together. Around him, hulking shadows with hollow eyes rose from the deck of the ship. Moans escaped their gaping maws and blood began to flow from these crevices, pooling at the foot of their amorphous forms. These were just illusions of course. He wouldn't waste the energy on attempting so many constructs unless it was necessary, but this aggressor didn't have to know that. Was this course of action bound to cause trouble? Sure, but it was worth the entertainment. They would all do good to stay on their toes. Who knew around what corner the next enemy lurked? As an afterthought he adjusted the empathic link, drawing back on the joy and ramping up the insanity a bit. He topped it off with a sense of dread and waited for what would happen next.

 

[TGrape]

Mare was caught off guard by the man's sudden outburst of joy, and flinched a bit when he wrapped him into a kind of hug. Mare wasn't used to being touched, he wasn't sure if this was a thing he had felt in his past life or not, but in either case he was very uncomfortable now. He was holding a spare shirt that he could rip into a belt for the man, but his arms were held down by the hug.


"Ummmm, you're welcome, but if you really want the belt that badly you might want to let go of me." Mare flexed his arms outwards a bit to get some air and his earthy brown Radiance eked out just a bit as he fought to breathe.

 

[Mistress of Evil]

Lava clung to Mundo's skin like a newborn grabbing to its mothers finger. Strong and with feel, Lava crouched over a bit more as he allowed his essence to spill out. Like a tide coming in, vines crept from underneath his feet as it wrapped and weaved its way around the creeks and spaces of the air craft. Sounds of screaming and bones breaking echoed as illusions of trees began to sprout from behind him. Once more like a choir , angel voices sung as feathers began to fall around him. The snake became more clear as it hissed and opened its jaws showing off its massive teeth. The bears mouth reached far off Lava's head , nearly engulfing the top half of him in darkness. As Grimm added a little more to the emotional link, Lava began to shift more. Bushier and flared, his tail began to gleam a black glow as the markings on his face began to widen. Slowly his nose began to stretch as a snout formed. His mellow voice quickly shifted to gnarls and growls, as saliva dropped from the bottom of his teeth on to the air crafts floor.


If it wasn't for the person he was holding, Lava would have launched himself toward the man, but with fear of dropping Mundo the only thing that could spur and jump was his anger. The ring that still held the barrier around the two laughed as he watched the show. "Calm down dog boy, wouldn't want you to drop him." Lava snarled at the ring as his began to slant backwards. From crimson eyes to a dark gray, you could tell Lava was something else. For being a familiar he was not bound to a rule. He could kill what he please and be fine, for killing was never taken from him. "I dare you to do it. Jump Mr.Big Bad Wolf." The ring taunted as he watched Lava slowly turn into the creature he was.


@Tronethiel7