Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

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Lord of Nothing
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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Lord of Nothing » Thu May 28, 2020 1:34 am

"Move up, move up!"

The men got up from their prone positions and immediately began to sprint. Bullets were still flying, much to their master's indifference. There was a ripple across the sky. And the woman was in the midst of turning into the giant metal titan. The men dived behind him before it began. Tearing apart everything. Metallic cords whipping about and lashing out towards Alaecyn in overwhelming numbers. One of his men drops to the ground with his head rolling as soon as he hits the ground.
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"He vows to endure to be burned, to be bound, to be beaten, and to be killed by the sword." The gladiator's oath as cited by Petronius (Satyricon, 117).
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He moves forward.

The CRACK of a whip. Oddly like unto a gunshot. Striking his flesh vice his own men. They didn't even look back. The didn't even stop as the blast door was ripped apart in front of them. They merely escaped inside.


Soft at first, he moved his shroud in front of him, the cape-like mass of flesh sprouting from his back oriented in front of him. And with a thought the vampirific cloak hardened until it became nigh-impenetrable via all means but his vein. Bullets scratched and lodged into other parts of flesh, failing to penetrate but making marks upon his body. Force from the titan's strikes transmitted time and time again.

Yet there he stood. Like a Roman Centurion. His cape held like a shield. Strength and skill combining in tandem as he actively maneuvered.

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK

With some strikes, he was driven into the ground like a hammer struck by a nail. With others, his clawed talons gave way into the dirt. Others he opted to duck. One flip as he jumped with an agility that no creature his size should have. And another tendril struck him mid-air. A direct impact to the shield rather a mitigated parry, force was transmitted appropriately. And the Insatiable flew clear over the house as he was soon launched.

A tree breaks in half, slowing him down until he bounces against the dirt ground like a broken winged bird before coming to a scraping halt.

Without the aid his limbs, Septimus levitates into the air to re-orient himself upright and then allows his feet to touch the ground. His Cape softens to cloth-like proportions and is allow to trail him once more. The Reaper speaks in his head and he doesn't need any reminder at all of what it was he came here for. He was not here for Revolt. He was not hear for Alaecyn. Nor was he truly here for Reaper's favor.

He was here for the source.

Flesh began to warp. The many mouthes that dotted Septimus' body soon were accompanied by an enumerable eyes. And soon many other appendages a hundred tiny little claws and wings -- before his body came apart entirely in the form of a swarm of bats --echolocating screeches filling into the air as the swarm went rocketing into the sky briefly consuming the moon for a singular moment as they appeared over the house. Each and every one pouring into the entrance of the house and then the facility, disappearing inside within moments.

Each and every one fly into one another as they formed a pile of flesh, spinning briefly around the mass until the Insatiable reformed once again. He looked about and saw what is left of his men. His eyes speak of expectation.

"Status report." He says, speaking in Romanian.

"The dimension tide is down sir. We need to extract you differently. We are already having teams make preparations. Sunrise is still far off." The man replies, looking at his watch for a moment and specifying how many hours. Before then he walks the lord over to a pile of rubble. "And here. Is the source. Shadowcat is inside as well." He mentions again. Septimus makes a motion for them all to move.

"Stand back." No explosive demolition would be necessary.

The muffled noise of shifting was heard from the other side of the rubble. A brief shaking in the ground as heavy piles of stone and concrete were tossed aside and set down. A few pebbles shifted as first as he grew nearer. And then a few trickles of of light poured in. Before briefly, something large obstructed it. Wreathing the room in darkness for a moment.

Before his claws came through and ripped away the rubble. Then came again, and ripped away the doorway. And then finally came through once more and ripped away the walls. So that his form was able to easily fit in. Along all of his men. Each one shining flashlights as they scanned the dimly lit building. There guns pointed at a woman and a weeping for a moment before.

The Insatiable slinks forward on all fours. Eyes begin to glow. His entire hand wrapping around shadowcat's waist as he picks her up and seperates her for the child regardless of his will.

"Shhhh." As the creature slinks out of the dark, he hushes the child. And his voice which strikes fear into the hearts of men now did the opposite. It made the boy absent of any fear. Of any feeling that told him that "something was wrong." He lacked the compulsion now to flee. To move. To shrink away.

A vague concept permeated his mind. As though he were in the presence of his mother. One that could described as a sense that everything was going to be okay. As he stared into the creature's blackened eyes, he would not be able to recount what it was he saw. But it gave the voice more power. The voice had robbed him of any fear and any motivation to resist at all. And they compelled the boy to do as the vampire as the vampire commanded.
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"Close your eyes."

And so the child did. Tears trickling down his cheeks still wet and now drying.

"Lay down."

And so he did. And as the boy laid down, eyes closed. The Insatiable loomed over him. His claws disappeared and left him with but a man's fingers. An open held back and soon turned into a fist.

There shall be no pain.

A sound like unto thunder shook the ground for a dozens of feet, overpowering the sickening crunch of the child's frail bones before the insatiable's fist. In his eyes, the death of the child was as ugly as it was instant. The boy would feel nothing as all manner of sensory process was instantly annihilated. The Hunter withdrew his hand. Blood and pieces of the boy's head dropping

His men watched stoically as he swipped his hand, causing pieces to fly off. And then he licked the remaining blood of his knuckles. Allowing the rest to flow from the space where his head was as he turned around and walked away.

"Find your own way out of here. I will meet you at the rendez-vous point shortly. There is a monster[ out there which I must attend to first."

A singular swords sits in the middle of the battle ground. On marred by stray rounds, explosions and swinging tentacles. A sword larger than most men. Fit for a giant's hands.

Around the sword in the ground a pile of mist swirls and coalesces. And from the mist a hand forms around the blade. And soon the rest of the body accompanies. A tall gaunt thing with eyes all over it's body and a mass of tendrils coming from it's upper back. It's hand is a sword too great for most men to wield. But it suited him just right.
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The sword is plucked from the ground. And held with two hands squarely in front of his face with the tip pointed to the air. Not a spec of rust tainted the shining Bøddel Ceremonial Greatsword. Bonds supernaturally reinforced with each consecutive kill of all things mighty. If one peered at the flat of the blade -- why it would be able to glean their own reflection.

He turned the blade. The edge now faced offensively. And held the sword lowered into a fool's guard stance.
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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by illirica » Thu May 28, 2020 9:40 pm

Some things were not meant to live in freedom.

Sometimes, there was no better definition than a cage, for within its walls there was form and shape and purpose. To break the cage meant that very solidity was lost, and the amorphous nature of freedom became untenable, irreconcilable: A better dream than a reality.

Setting loose the exoterium had delivered it from conscious control - or perhaps that delivery was merely in the fact that Revolt had no real grasp on that consciousness itself - like the fever dream, it flickered in and out, something that might have been, or once had been, or was wished into existence without ever becoming more than the wish it had once been.

It acted on subconscious desires: hers to defeat her enemies, its own to break the cage and everything within it, harmonious and synchronized, raining destruction. All things would fall before it, for there was nothing to hold it back.

Yet there remained one who it could not touch, and she stood alone, untouched before the onslaught. She was emptiness, a hollow that it could not reach, could not touch, could not absorb. Her space was one that it could not grow into, could not make a part of itself - it shifted, but always away, no matter how close she may have seemed.

For her hollow heart, it lashed out at everything that might have touched her, the metal tearing through stones and illusions and flesh and walls. There was a thing it would have destroyed if the remnants of the chains that had bound it did not rattle protect - but it was one final command, at all costs.

It would destroy the next dearest thing, then - and indeed, had nearly done so when the Hollow Night turned her starless gaze upon it.

And that was the end.

There was stillness now, the core gone dim, the orb that had powered it no more than a bauble now, its energies entirely sapped, used in accordance with its true nature to imbue powers into some living thing, rather than to power it like a battery in its cradle. The metal that had once seemed so volatile froze into place, become solid and firm in the way of a skeleton - not even a corpse.

Revolt pulled back, twisting, as if she could slough off the remnants, her mind half-faded with the magnitude of its death and all the agony of a body that seemed far away, somewhere else, not hers. She had come back to it, for there was nowhere else to go, but it pained her, torn and bleeding. Words whispered, far away.
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“Close your eyes.”
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They were open too wide anyway, shocked and staring, pain evident as the last vestiges of adrenaline were fading and what was left of her body ached for the comforting embrace of unconsciousness. She let them drift, closed but for a final sliver of refusal.
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“Lay down.”
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It was not a graceful thing - more of a collapse. The final fragments of the skeletal exoterium had broken from her, leaving only pieces of what had once been armor, partial-coverings that were no defense at all, only a reminder of what had once been. A sharp pain from her arm - or rather, from the place where it had once been, the shorn off limb that struck the ground first with her weight on top of it. The redoubled agony brought her eyes to open again, her other hand - her only hand - pressing against the dirt to raise her up as much as she could manage.

The building dislodged a corpse of its own - something that had once been a man, just as she had once been a hero. She watched him draw the blade, its edge wicked with the sharpness that she could no longer command. Despite the exoterium armoring shell’s absence, there were still enough internal parts to her armor that remained functional, enough for her to open a channel and whisper raggedly into the unfeeling line.

>Mission failed.

It hardly mattered which channels she had sent the message on, did it? Her arm trembled to support her weight, sluiced with the blood from the gaping hole in her abdomen, silvery glints of machinery within evident among the torn viscera. She overcame the weakness with will, her eyes lifted to the blade. She might not be able to meet him standing, but she would not lay down and die like a coward. She was a soldier - and she had a duty to uphold.

At all costs.

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Magnusson » Fri May 29, 2020 12:58 am

There were super-beings who were particularly adept at narrowing in on people in distress. They had ears which could hone in on their loved ones' heartbeats, or keen eyes that could spot energy discharges from thousands of miles away. They boasted danger senses which warned of impending doom, or perhaps proceeded by nothing but sheer heroic intuition, capable of arriving at danger before it was too late.

Magnusson had no such capability, though his senses were keen.

It'd taken him time to find the site of the battle.

An uncommon energy dispersion had clued him in. Unfamiliar fluctuations which suggested war, the result of the Green Knight's manipulation of the fabric of space-time. William knew not what had occurred, only that it would be wise to investigate.

As chance had it, he'd wandered upon carnage.

His heartbeat increased, senses sharpening, taking in the situation. A blasted-out cabin that fluctuated between present and absent, a ruined field that was strewn with bodies; a hulking creature of the night, an indescribable horror wielding a greatsword...yes, that drew most of his attention. And there was, too, a grievously wounded Teja Docesznic. She'd been taken apart.

As he floated over the site of the conflict, William found himself feeling something unexpected. He wanted satisfaction in her demise. He wanted to be above it all. But looking down at her, in that devastated state, he felt only a hollowness, an urge that he could not quite explain. Did he just want to look good? To perform a good action?

"No."

There was no time for those kinds of thoughts. A person's life was in danger.

"No - no - no -"

Acting without thinking, he dove towards the blown-out warscape, a golden streak amidst the gray sky and crimson soil.

Carefully, he moved to gather what remained of her in his arms - praying she was still alive - to tear her away from the perilous situation she was in. To what end, he did not know. Anywhere but here. Someplace where she could be healed. He didn't have that kind of power, not alone.

Stay.

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Lord of Nothing » Fri May 29, 2020 12:14 pm

The Insatiable watched as a monster was slain and soon came to a halt. And with the ceasing of the creature, so to did come the curtain held over everyone's eyes fall. The dispelling of the mental illusion which plagued this planet and rotted it from the inside out. Everything was. It was true. And it was ugly. Made uglier by the government's attempt to craft a beautiful lie.

And yet there was a loose end.

From the titan fell a woman. Wounded and having come crashing to the ground. The air smelled of her blood and the Sanguine connoisseur immediately made the distinction of "metahuman." From it's scent alone. The heartbeat indicated the level of her strength. And likely accompanying durability. Human.

The first thing she would see as she got up would be his bare, talon-like feet and the additional digit behind it. Perfect for swooping by to capture prey. And then it would trail up his pale, white, naked body. His genitalia-less anatomy unhidden. He did not fear the cold. Nor did he fear heat not sufficient to cause flame. And such sentimental trinkets of morality were always torn apart or left behind by his polymorphic body. A bundle of a dozen thick, black tendrils adhering to one another comprising what passed for a cape sprouting from his upper back.

Two pale blue eyes stared at down her. His face speaking of neither malevolence or benevolence. Patiently, he waited for her to get up. Rising enough that she could eat not stand up straight. Certainly not to the height of the Eight foot tall behemoth which stood before her, wielding a sword which worthy of his proportions.

"To die on your own two feet. Very well."

Honor could never be allowed to impede effectiveness and efficiency. But the mission was failed. The source was dead. The one who stood before him was dying. Wounded. The army around them had been all but destroyed by the Titan that she herself had controlled. Bodies strewn about with APCs shredded.

He could have afforded her a warrior's death. Such was the reward of the last enemy standing, was it not? There was nothing in this world for her now. He could have struck her down with the swift strike of his sword. And from the way the sword was poised.

But he did not. For one was approaching. A thunderous heartbeat. Someone of great strength. One he could see with the singular eye he had sprouted up from his back at the beginning of the battle. One eye became many.
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Even from this distance, Septimus could see compassion and care. The single-minded focus of his approach. The way that seeing the one who stood before him so gravely wounded stirred him. Consumed him. Gave the insatiable one glance before diving towards towards his fallen team mate with nary a thought in his mind.

The Insatiable moved with a swiftness to catch a gunshot. His halt a immediate and instantaneous halt an affront to physicals and common sense. And as quickly as he stopped in -- he started again.

The monster moving now -- to clash with Eldest.

His palm flew outward with a reach that much exceeded the hands of the would be savior. One strike to stop him dead in his tracks, the force of the strike born of Magnusson's own momentum. A counter. The harder and faster Magnusson had flown, the worst the impact which sought to bring him to a crashing halt.

He raise his sword and for his second attack -- the blade would not come. Instead, the hilt of the sword came crashing down like the jaw of a leviathan. The blunted end carrying with it the forces necessary to split skyscrapers in two. Enough energy that his strike became like unto a detonation.

Outside of the battlefield, the men who'd survived the encounter felt it. "Shit." The strength of the strike could be felt for upon the battlefield and beyond. The men trekking through the woods fell to the ground. The heard a few trees uprooted near the area of impact. And the others in the area seemed to to lean for a moment. The blast falling off with distance until they were merely assault with dirt, sticks and leaves picked up by the ensuing blast.
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And then a still silence.

Whether or not Magnusson rest buried within the ground at ground zero of the impact was another story. But even a miss resulted into in blastwaves consuming the area. The resulting blast threatening to act upon Revolt's mortal form and reduce her to an after thought. A shower of red mist. Sparing her his sword and making her head unsuited for presentation.

But it would be an end on her two feet. Just as he had said.

He spoke, his voice permeating the battlefield. A phantasmal, unnatural undertones rattling the bones and causing ambient objects to rattle with each word. His voice audible in the heads of the people for miles.

He whiffs the air, his breathing like a bull's. Nostrils flaring and undisturbed by the inhalation of soil.

"You wreak of a god. You are not from here." He said.

"This is no longer any of your concern. The dimension tide is destroyed. And those with the desire to invade your world can do so no longer. Your work here is done. Her mission has failed. The world she has fought for is gone. Meanwhile. You still have your own."

He hoped that the man was at least coherent enough to hear him. Perhaps he was leaving. And yet he would hear the insatiable's voice regardless. The strike was intended to be lethal. It did not seek the head of the Eldest. God knows how much he would enjoyed the blood of an eldest and have obtained power beyond his wildest imagination. But the interloper was from the other earth. And to slay him or even attempt to do so would bring about a chain reaction of wrath and vengeance.

Something he knew all too well about.

"Leave this world. For I have little doubt that your own world weeps. As do so many others. You do not want this fight...."

Within the multi-verse, the rest countless worlds. Some suffering as much as this one. Others suffering more. And others better. Why even bother saving this one when there were likely so many others like this. Ripe with suffering and strife. Falling apart at the seams for reason or another of mankind's making.

When the threat was gone, what would make this one so special for them to continue, he wondered. And yet so simultaneously wished to destroy his motivation and the motivation of all of them to act further.

"....For you have already won."

Haven't you?

Yet he suspected it would take much more than that to down something like him. If the God wished to fight, then the Insatiable would be his monster. He would be his Jormungandr. His world eater.

His grip tightened on his sword. And this time, the blade was ready.
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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by LunaHawk » Fri May 29, 2020 2:26 pm

Shadow Cat looked away when it happened. "I didn't sign up for killing children," she muttered. She left the house...no--bunker--behind and helped the injured Alaecyn to his feet, though he was barely able to stand at all.

Everything is ok, you can play now.

Reaper was on her knees, though not from anything the living metal titan could do. She held her arms as if cradling a child, and indeed she was, though it had no physical form. A soul rested in her arms, the soul of a child finally at peace. There was nothing else that could be seen within the umbral shadows. No one would see the quiet tears combining happiness and absolute sorrow. She held her son close, whispering words no one would hear but him.

"It's ok now. You're home. You can play now and you can see Daddy again and your sister too. All your friends are there and you can have fun again." She brushed ethereal hair from a smiling face. "I know, you did your best to bring everyone back--but it wasn't your fault--that's just not how things work. I'm sorry I was so late--I'm sorry I--" How do you tell your son it was your fault his family died? Or that it was your fault his friends died, or that the government tortured him? How did you ever begin to make up for all of that?

She smiled a little, feeling an impulse of both understanding and forgiveness. That was a word not often used in this world--maybe because it had run away to other worlds--worlds that deserved it.

"Go now--tell everyone I miss them." The spirit dissolved into her form, vanishing like so many others had. Reaper stayed there, silent and un-moving. She wanted to tell him she would see him again someday--but that would be a lie. She could only look in on them, watch the lives in the little heaven she made for her family--she would never join them.

She was The Reaper.

She sniffed-- a sound no one would hear, and wiped away tears, an action no one would see. She forced herself to her feet, levitating her Scythe back into her hand. Now her son was free--now she was free.

Reaper noted Septimus fighting some late arrival and wondered for a moment where Revolt’s so called allies had been. That was the problem working with allies wasn’t it? Sometimes they let you down, sometimes they had their own agendas, and sometimes they just didn’t like you.
While the two of them fought she floated across the gap between herself and Revolt, rolling over the other woman as a black fog, enshrouding her entirely so no others on the field could witness what came next. To the outside world, Revolt entirely vanished within the fog. She slid the shard from within her robes. She looked at Revolt, now well within her personal space and said nothing. When The Reaper came for you, she didn’t speak, she had no need for words save to provide instruction or occasionally answer a question.



She was here to do neither. She’d thought about taking Revolt’s life, the woman who’d tried to prolong her son’s suffering because her government string pullers told her to, but she was as much a victim as her son. Revolt had been twisted and manipulated nearly her entire life by a government she practically worshiped. It was sad really, she’d never been able to see the light, even when her eyes were opened.

Government programming was like that after awhile, it became almost impossible to root out and destroy. Her hand became as incorporeal as the mist that trailed in her shadows and she shoved it unceremoniously into Revolt’s spine. She pushed the shard into the spinal column and retracted her hand, returning it to its more customary solid state. The shard would begin its work soon enough, digging into her body like a parasite, spreading its tendrils through her spine and nervous system. She’d not come to kill Revolt, but she still had a use for her—several, in fact.

Reaper pulled away from Revolt, the fog rolling out to reveal her once more, and the ongoing battle she had no care for. It was unfortunate Septimus was now too occupied to go to Solar City but such things happened. She spun her staff and drove the flat end into the wounded soil. Reaper closed her eyes and began to feast on a world set aflame.


It happened all across the world at the same moment and even the people from Prime Earth would feel it. A pressure on the mind so feint no one had known was there fell away and carried the illusion of what was with it. It was impossible to comprehend what happened. Many people went insane and took their own lives, suddenly faced with the fact they'd been feeding non-existent ghosts of children or loved ones for years, walking over the dead bodies the whole time.

The survivors first felt overwhelming sorrow--and then--unbridled rage. Governments across the world had perpetuated the lie, even run the planet as if nothing had happened--with the one exception of Romania. People were already beginning to take to the streets in many cities, except for Solar City, except for places in Romania.

In the years to come this would be known as “The Broken Generation.” A whole world was granted PTSD at the same moment. There were no words for what people felt, in the future words would need to be invented. How do you describe someone losing everything in their life all at once, while also learning everything they’d lost was actually a lie? People had babies that didn’t exist with significant others that equally didn’t exist. They had jobs with bosses who were all but figments of a child’s imagination.

That’s what it had been, the great lie, the horrible curse that broke a generation, it had all been the sudden overwhelming naïve instinct of a small child trying to restore what they’d known. Without even the hint of understanding as to how his powers worked, the child that would become known as Source had created the greatest lie in history—and he’d not been able to turn it off. He just wanted friends, someone to play with, he wanted his daddy and his sister—he wanted his friends. He never meant to break the world.

The world economy collapsed not over night, but in an instant. Entire companies ceased to exist as if snapped out of reality by some uncaring power. Wall Street lost nearly everything in a single day, before the government could shut it down—because the government was extremely busy.
The population of the world rose up as one, without guidance, and screamed their rage at the men and women who had taken the great lie and used it to manipulate everything. That people knew and used it to their advantage somehow became evident within minutes, though no could say who told them.

Wholesale political collapse swept across the world in the greatest riot in human history, it was like hundreds of French Revolutions all at once.

World leaders were dragged from their palaces and homes kicking and screaming, beaten to death, tortured, torn apart, it didn’t matter how, but many of them died. As the riots spread certain people with abilities appeared to guide them, gently nudging riots in the right direction, people calling themselves members of The Society.

Some of the strongest governments held on. Even though the President of the United States was executed by Eclipse on the White House Lawn before a cheering crowd, and most of his staff with him, the government had prepared for apocalypse for decades. Protocols kicked in, people were ushered to secret bunkers and took command of any military infrastructure they could. Units were sent to recover Revolt. Hopefully they would arrive in time.

Solar City was abandoned, it was one of the few bastions where people didn’t riot, in part because of the battle, and in part because X had already prepared a broadcast and it played automatically in the bunkers, informing her people that she had only been informed of this very recently and had done what she could to prepare the city. Other cities remained calm as well, seemingly at random. All of Romania was calm. They were islands in a sea of instant chaos.


Source had fallen and it was going to take weeks, months, perhaps years, to sort out the mess. Economies built on lies would collapse over night, global turmoil was assured, wars would follow, a mass uprising of an enraged global populace. Power vacuums would yawn wide and everything would change. There was nothing to hold the world back now and plenty of room for new Tyrants to step forward.
Last edited by LunaHawk on Sat May 30, 2020 1:24 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Magnusson » Fri May 29, 2020 4:47 pm

William hadn't been steering properly.

He had a system, an internal one, for making decisions. It was highly complex, and of course, the context of the scenarios he was in mattered tremendously. When on his father's behalf, all actions were strikingly deliberate. He was obliged to be careful. He obeyed local laws and ordinances, and he followed his word when he gave it, because he recognized the power of words. On this mission, he was adhering more to his own interest, because of a few little oaths he'd made to himself. That was also allowed within his internal system, because it stopped a person from going insane.

What was not part of his system was being overwhelmed with some feeling or other when he'd looked at Revolt's practically-vivisected form. It was just an impulse to do something with all the power he had to make it stop.

And it'd put his steering off.

Right into the outstretched palm of the gargantuan horror that stood over Revolt. There was no real time to react; instead, his head snapped backwards and blood spurted out of his face, followed by his entire body being driven into a crater by the rapid blow from the greatsword's hilt. The shockwave from the impact devastated the surrounding area. All of this had occurred too quickly for any lower being to conceive of as having happened, let alone witness and process. Pain was not unfamiliar to him; there had been a time before his powers had fully developed, after all. Though it had been a while since physical trauma had affected him in any way.

It did displease him.

It did not control him.

Rising from the enormous cavity his body had been driven into, William drew his thumb across the lower part of his lip, wiping away the blood the creature had drawn. With a disdainful flick of his wrist, he got rid of the redness deposited on his finger. He lacked a cape, now, and there were some burns on his arms. The lower side of his lip? Split open. But other than that, he looked no worse for wear on the outside.

Blinking a few times, he explored the situation. Before him was a horrifying mass of flesh and eyes that stood eight feet tall and reacted quickly enough to not only injure him, but impede him. It had pallid skin and spoke in a voice that echoed through heart, skull, and bone. It was phenomenally hideous, a demon of the lowest sort. Was there a counterpart to it on the Earth Above, or was this monstrosity a unique resident of this mimic-world alone? More importantly, what was he to do with it?

Simultaneously, he watched someone else lay hands on Revolt. In and out of focus, a being of incoherence. All he could see was a vague black outline. But even then, he wasn't really seeing anything. It was his other senses filling in a blank with information, like an optical illusion. His mind was not processing the appearance of the creature, but its presence. It was deeply confusing to see it stick a hand through her back, presumably...killing her instantly. He could only conclude that this thing was the Reaper he'd been warned about. He could envision her being, but not see her, like an imaginary creature that he knew was nonetheless present.

"She looks like death, whatever that looks like to you."

Yes, that was Reaper alright, and she was Reaping a person right in front of him. That made him angry, but no more angry than he'd been before. And now that he'd failed in his task, it was time to heed reason - to heed his internal system. He could mourn later.

Then, he perceived a third external threat. The illusion which had blanketed the world and attempted to infest his mind had receded outright. Had he conquered it, then? No. He had not put forth the focus. The origin of the hallucinatory effect, whatever it was, had been somehow interrupted. Perhaps destroyed. The vampire's words rang: "...the world she has fought for is gone." Ah. So this group had dispatched the origin of the illusion, and it had been Revolt's duty to prevent that.

He suppressed a wave of nausea. Perfectly suppressed.

This snarling monster was a talented communicator. That impressed him. He had a talent for looking past the horrific ugliness on the outside of beings like him, having grown up in deep space surrounded by many-headed and sharp-toothed beings. He could recognize that the thing before him was repulsive - perhaps even evil - but that it was also intelligent.

"I don't have my own world. I am an alien and my name is William."

He didn't bother with of Magnus or any other titles, because they'd be a waste of breath here. No need to describe his great space empire or puff himself up as the inheritor of the universe. Not while Teja was over there dying or being restructured or whatever, and not while he'd just been bashed in the head by an eight foot giant. An intelligent giant, not worthy of violence.

"I'm not affiliated with her. I was assigned to protect the world that a group from this Earth recently raided."

Now what?

This was politics now, not heroes killing monsters. That much was obvious. And he'd had yet to raise a hand in violence since coming to Earth. He always preferred not to, even when struck. But he also had great power, and with great power came great leverage. There was great potential here - he could sense that in the massive creature. William was missing so much information...he needed to know more. But his intuitions were strong, born of ancient intelligence.

Think fast.

"We both know that if I started caring about what happens on other worlds, I'd be biting off more than I could chew. I agree with that. But," his eyes gleamed, "- the fate of our two Earths is now intertwined because of the actions of a man named Alaecyn. So, my large friend," he said, licking the remaining blood from the inside of his mouth, "I propose you tell me your name, and because you and I are both the strongest and most intelligent here, we act in concert to prevent any more deeply unnecessary bloodshed. Especially before my more trigger-happy and justice-loving accomplices arrive."

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by MAXIMUM MAN » Sat May 30, 2020 2:48 am




MAXIMUM MAN had pushed his vehicle to it's absolute limits moving towards Revolt's last known location. Anti-Gravity engines roared with a violent intensity that left a trail of dirt, dust, and debris in its wake. They roared across barren farmland and he could feel the tsunami of despair rushing towards them. It drew him to this location, the fire that burned within his heart starting to grow more intense as he grew close. He could almost see the pitch black water rising to block out the sun.

His enhanced eyes could see the battle starting to erupt before him with Magnusson falling to the earth like a meteor and another hideous beast moving to intercept. He was an expert at predicting the moves of his opponents on the track and this was no different. Fast calculations of impacts at high velocities were a part of what got him his championship belts. He knew that when those two colideded Revolt would be turned into nothing more than a spark in a dustcloud. Even at his current speed he wouldn't get there in time, there was no possible way he could beat the two before him, and that meant he would have to give more than 100%. The cockpit opened allowing the wind to beat against his costume. Carefully he moved to the nose of his vehicle and engaged the auto-pilot. With a deep breath and using the moment of impact to mask his arrival, he sent a burst of MAXIMUM SPEED to his legs and pushed off of the nose of the FALCON-07 boosting his already riddiculous speed but, moving across the horizontal plane. One knee dug into the ground to slow his approach while his arms scooped up Revolts body and carried her away from the blast. He used his own body as a barricade, the force of the titans clash sending pain rushing through his body before his FIRST CYLINDER ability drowned it out with a blast of Adrenaline.

As the dust settled he looked at the ruined body of his ally. She had come here alone to fight a battle she knew she wouldn't win yet, she still did it. He brushed bloody hair from her face and smiled down at her.

"I told you I'd come. Luckily your blinding sense of justice was the perfect beacon to guide me here, I almost didn't make it. I told you to hold out and you did just that; now use that device Pendragon gave you and get out of here...I can handle the rest."

He gently rested her body down while being careful to make sure his didn't fade till he turned to see his enemies. His fingers curled, each one of them cracking in a rhythmic order. The waves of despair were beginning to break and come crashing down on this location. That meant that what was here was the source of all the pain the world felt in this very moment. He felt every ounce of that pain and it infuriated him.

"I can feel every ounce of pain this world feels...."

He cracked his neck to the right. He had 6 bursts of MAXIMUM ENERGY left in his tank.

"and all of that evil...."

His gaze fell upon Septimus as well as Reaper whose form was one of flowing black water.

"Started here."

He took a series of deep breaths that began activating various chambers of his heart. Each one would increase the volume of it's beating until he reached the sixth. Everyone on the battlefield, if they listened well enough, would hear the rapid beating of MAXIMUM MAN's heart. His veins began to bulge and his skin color turned more red from the sudden rush of bloodflow. Visible trails of MAXIMUM ENERGY rose from his body as he engaged all SIX CYLINDERS.

From behind his permanent smile he spoke. "By the power given to me by the blazing fires of justice I'm placing all of you UNDER ARREST!".

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MAXIMUM MAN moved and the ground where he was standing became two small impact marks. He charged towards Septimus accelerating to 70mph in the blink of an eye. It would make sense for Septimus to assume MAXIMUM MAN to be an idiot who would charge forward with his fists at the ready. That assumption would be correct except for one thing, he was a racer. He had to learn entire race tracks on the fly. Memorizing potential threats, sharp corners, the moves of his opponents, and so much more at hyper sonic speeds gave him a mind that hadn't forgotten how fast Magnusson had been traveling when he had been intercepted. Instead of forgetting that detail he formulated a strategy to counter it.

In the last moment he could before he was within striking rage of his opponent he dropped into a slide, planted his hands in the dirt directly in front of Septimus, brought his knees in, and pushed himself up. His two feet rocketed upwards towards the Vampire's skull. The full force of MAXIMUM MAN's fury packed into a powerful feint.

At the peak of his aerial travel he corrected himself into a flip and landed.
"You have the right to a MAXIMUM beatdown."

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by illirica » Sat May 30, 2020 3:09 pm

In a moment, she was no longer alone.

It was no salvation that came from the heavens, though, even if he no doubt thought of himself that way. The Eldest approached, and Revolt recoiled in abject horror. His intent was all too clear - to grab her in a moment of weakness and carry her off as a trophy, like his father before him had done to all the women he'd stolen to breed children like livestock.

She'd die first, and gladly.

Her "No!" was reflexive, lacking the strength to be a shout, but with a certain emphasis nonetheless: disgusted, and with a hint of fear that she would much rather have kept concealed. Her outstretched hand was not to take his, but to ward him off.

From this, it would be her opponent that protected her - the Insatiable and his thirsting blade. That thing had no desire for her, only for the intrigue of combat. Revolt did not delude herself into thinking that his interference was for her sake - he had just found another fight to lust over. All for the better - her movement had overstepped what little hold on her pain she had left, and she had only time to see the beginnings of the dust cloud billowing before the blackness overtook her.

She awoke to gloved fingertips twisting through her hair, weirdly sensual, and her tension at the inflicted moment almost sent her back into unconsciousness. Clarity returned, though, and with it the knowledge that it was not one of the Eldest who grasped her. The other earth's future hero, speaking quietly. He was trying, she thought, to be comforting.

It wasn't something she would have asked for, nor something she was accustomed to. Truthfully, she didn't quite know how to deal with sympathy - but his instructions to get herself out of there she could understand. Remove the wounded from the battlefield - standard practice. The battlefield was not just here, though - the whole world was a battlefield.

"No." Before, the word had been a reflex, almost unconscious. This time, though, it was spoken with full cognizance, an awareness of what she was, and her intentions. "I won't... leave. This is my world." Scarred, bloody, torn apart, tearing itself further apart every moment. Dangerous and deadly.

Everything she was.

He stood to defend it, and she fell back into the dust of the world she would not abandon.

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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Lord of Nothing » Sun May 31, 2020 2:06 am

Dust fell from the air now. The area like an aftermath of an a bio can. That dust which was light enough to float simply descended in a slow haze.

You are all aliens.

The man wished an audience and for that moment he would have it. Beneath his stoic expression, dissected every word of what Magnusson had said. Mentally taking each and everything apart and searching for some measure of meaning in what was said. Weighing the merits and detriments to the end.

The Reaper had appeared and shoved something into the one who stood. Perhaps seeing something which was worthwhile in her. So long as the threat she posed was nullified then it did not matter what happened to her. So long as she was no longer in his way.

That left only one thing -- The being named "William" which stood before him. Offering deals and compromises. At no point did Septimus' facial expression visibly change or give physical indication of what he was thinking. At no point did he stop to counter or interject until Magnusson was done talking.

"My name is Septimus Nier." The God asked for his name. And he decided to state it in full.

"Forgive me Eldest..." With his free hand he motioned to his body. His hand began at his chest. Barren and with pectorials devoid of areola or nipples. Of any ancient, evolutionary remains that would be otherwise conducive to feeding or nurturing children. His hand goes further down, tracing down to his body.

"I lack of a member for you to wrap your lips around."

In a way, Alaecyn and the society of this earth offered more. They directly proposed to support Septimus' endeavors. There was little use for the man himself. But selling him out would be an unnecessary mark upon his relationship with the others. Namely the likes of Predator X. And the Solar based technology that she had secretly provided for him and allowed for the conquest of a country to take place by a vampire for the first time in human history. They days of those wars were as dark as they were brief. Decisive. And nearly uncontested. All because of the society's discreet assistance.

The Instaitable was that which rest in the shadows. Which few knew about. The thing which they could not have planned or accounted for.

To betray them -- who would aid in his conquest. For what? For a man with an atomic bomb in hand and no idea of where to place it. For all of the ability of the eldest, he lacked the knowledge of where to apply it. Of where it existed. There exist very little which would threaten him now.

Based on knowledge of the alternate universe's Nosferatu -- The Insatiable saw himself. One who lived with a fraction of his own potential. Who had consumed the blood of hundreds at best and who only knew of himself. One who was magnitudes weaker then he. Even with the consumption of only a few hundred. He, who had single-handedly hunted down and devoured the souls of the most powerful Kindred and gained their unique abilities. He, who had conquered an entire country and had access to entire prisons with tens of thousands of people from which to draw blood over time. Who had powers, resources and blood vaster than any vampire in the world had ever seen.

Who was Magnusson to him? What did he know? He knew nothing. And to the vampire he was almost nothing. He was but a very large gun. Shooting into the dark of unknown adversaries. Someone who Septimus foresaw himself escaping from with ease.

"Alaecyn is of little concern to me now. And so are you." It almost was funny to him. He knew well that the man would die. And in the end it would mean one less Warlord for The insatiable to contest with. One less person who he merely had to wait until they died of old age and he had a chance of inheriting their domain. But he'd no incentive at all to sell him out.

There existed only one loose end which needed to be cut.

In the haze he saw two things. He saw something of reaper, his perception always having been particularly keen and well attuned to the spiritual ever since the breach. An ability unique to him. Even the slightest of disturbance. He knew not of what she did. Only some brief appearance and then she was gone. But this was not enough to save her.

The second thing was much more clear. Much more blatant. And completely and utterly over the top, as a figure came by and whisked the woman away in what was almost comically superhero fashion. The man gave a small speech to encourage her. Told her he would make everything alright. "So this must be your friend who you are referring to."

It almost made his judgmental, unsaying visage crack something of what would be have been a smile. It was as though he were watching a comedy.

However, he praised her strength and ability to last this long. Which was one thing he could give the hero. But then he acted in accordance with what Septimus suspected -- charging him the monster like a linebacker. Seemingly obviously accustomed to the use of brute strength to overcome intelligent but weaker foes. And not a hunter. Someone who was accustomed to fighting things stronger than he was. No different from the boy standing in front of him who felt the need to presumptuously brag about his abilities to him and craft an illusion of what he knew.

As the man charged, the attack Septimus launched at him was almost exactly the same. His palm surged forward and he became like an unyielding object. It would be as though from a standing position -- as though the hand had teleported into place. The man's own momentum would serve to stack onto the heed smearing forces the man's own hand generated.

And yet the satisfying noise of the man charging into his palm never came. The man was not where Septimus had anticipated him to be. His eyes flickered down, instantly locating him. Standing on his hands with his legs scrunched.

Whiplash. The Insatiable head violently jerks backwards as the man rockets into the air and strikes Septimus' chin. The man lands delivering his speech as almost absent-mindedly stared into the starry night sky. And the Slayer of the Source returns his head back down.

He spoke, the venom and condescension in his tone growing more and more in his tone. Each word an assault on the hero's so called indomitable will. "Justice? What do you know of Justice. And what it takes to enforce it. You a hero. And from what I observe, that is all you are. You are but a child flailing in the dark. Lashing out indiscriminately. Defeat wrong-doer after wrong do-er in an eternal struggle. Some hunting down and arresting. Such as yourself. Others hunting down and killing. Such as what I was once. Merely reacting to things. Over and over. Punishing travesties after they occur. You have a role. But do not delude yourself into believing that you can end this world's suffering and bring about true justice."

He turned to Maximum Man now.

"No. It is the leaders. The conquerors. Those with the power in whatever form it may come and the knowledge of how to use it, that bring about true justice in dark times. The ones with the power and knowledge to make their virtue mean something. The Shepard who herds the sheep."

And that is I. For you are only a tool.

Woosh.

His sword sings as it slices through the air. His hands a whir of motion imperceptible by ordinary eyes. Out the heavy Zweihander flew -- as straight as a spear throw by a spartan, moving at speeds to make fastballs blush and with enough force to lodge into the tank. It's target being the soldier reduced to a damsel. Laying on the ground. Too stubborn and determined to die to leave when handed the watch. It seemed almost inevitable that Maximum Man would catch it.

And as the sword flew, the man traveled. Running right next to the blade. His target different. Maximum Man, who he suspected would catch the blade or shift the damsel's position. Either way, the giant appeared before the man. The giant's leg swung in a low kick that carried enough force to rupture a solid stone pillar. Seeking to launch the man -- dead or alive -- like a soccer all the way across the battlefield until he hit the remains of the armored barbed wire fence at the edge of the battlefield.

He spoke once again, making his counter-offer to the more diplomatic William. The man who just witnessed his teammate assault him in the middle of an attempt at diplomacy. The one who claimed to not be affiliated with the electric woman. Who he was curious as to how he would react to a new age. Body still poised to beat Maximum Man into the dirt and receive counterattack. His undead lungs however, lacking any need for breath to fuel his movements as he spoke. His voice audible for miles.

"Leave now with what you have. And I myself shall sever all that which ties us to your world." He said, words restrained in making any more contemptuous comments towards William's person.

Does that satisfy you, godling?
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Re: Incursion: Riptide [Closed]

Post by Magnusson » Sun May 31, 2020 5:20 am

Maximum Man made him look so good.

Were he more insecure, he'd shirk away, embarrassed by the sudden interruption of negotiation. No, William was just as unbothered as Septimus Nier at the Maximum Mortal's arrival. The vampire before him - for that was what this thing was - was capable of multitasking, such that he was able to deliver a fine and cutting retort as Maximum Man checked on Revolt's body. Such care and attention to detail! Such bravado! The Son of Magnus could not help but admire his earnest spirit. Why sure, had his efforts to engage in combat amounted to an interruption, he may have held him in disdain...but Nier had not called off their little talk, no.

And again, he smiled when Septimus told him to fuck off. A being of intelligence and personality, thank the heavens. And that he identified him as Eldest suggested deep knowledge, and in an uncanny way, a sort of respect that William enjoyed. He was a hybrid, yes, something he was ceaselessly reminded of. Even to be mistaken for a full-blooded one was gratifying.

When Maximum Man arrived, then, and Nier inquired as to his identity, Will could only shrug, palms open to the sky.

"Friend's a bit of a stretch."

Were he and the vampire both grinning at his arrival?

How can it be that this ugly fellow is my favorite Earther?

Maximum Man wasted no time in attacking Nier. He moved with uncanny speed and power packed into his muscles. William respected his bravery. This was clear-cut heroic effort. It was a shame how poor a fate it would earn him.

The mighty blow landed. A counter-strike was launched...using Revolt. Revolt, who was still alive. Joy! Though she wouldn't last long, if that sword struck her. Why attack Revolt? He understood instantly.

Clever! William thought, intently watching the sword leave the man's hand and marking the trajectory. Maximum Man would be forced to choose between allowing the sword to destroy Revolt and exposing himself to harm. But there was an off chance that he'd fail, outright, to prevent the improvised projectile from obliterating her. Why not give the man a fighting chance?

Where the tip of the blade spiraled forth, it met an outstretched index finger. A subtle deflection, a mere nudge that sent it spiraling away from the woman on the ground. William watched Septimus pass him by at almost the same speed as the blade, and gave him another shrug, almost apologetic in tone.

Just as quickly, he'd passed him by. But William heard his words in the distance, and responded.

"You seem like a fine fellow, Septimus," he said, tilting his head back as he watched the pair explode into the distance. "I'll take my things and go."

William floated over to where Revolt was, listening for her heartbeat. He'd processed, now, what she'd cried out earlier - "No!" - and found himself frowning just a little. He'd had his minor outburst of sympathy for the day. What he was about to do was more about the SOS' respective interests, not his own. They wanted words with her.

Recovery would be difficult. How embarrassing would it be if he tried to save her and failed. Maybe better to pretend he'd not seen...no, no, he had to have some modicum of dignity here. And he was doing this, again, as a favor for Nick.

If she passed away, it'd be his father's doing. Without those infernal gene-locks on his abilities, he could heal her in an instant. With Eldest sorcery he could do anything, anything at all. That was what the old books said.

Oh, wow, there was a lot of gore. If he picked her up, would she spill?

"Alright - hold yourself together," he murmured, trying to shift her from where she was in a way that wouldn't make things worse. This entire battlefield might be destroyed soon - you never knew with these things.

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