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The world as you know it is a lie. Ever since that star fell three centuries ago, the course of human history has been driven by the few who know the truth. Four wishes for four children, it made their deepest desires into reality. It told them their destiny was to have their fingers wrapped around the throat of the world. We roam the face of your planet, as numerous as grains of sand. We united Genesaris when the five lands were locked in war. We've built airships to conquer the skies. We've sent a metropolis to swim among the stars. We've held the line against the mind-rending beings that claw at the rips in reality. We were the ones to lay down the foundations of all that you know. You're welcome. We’ve watched the turns of the centuries pass us by. We've watched you grow, and learn, and build your towers of wealth and opulence. We've watched you construct cities around your ignorance, cathedrals to power and ambition and influence. We watch you gloat at your achievements, and laugh. Don't you know? We are the strings that make you dance. You have all been blinded to the truth of this world. Your petty squabbles and worthless wars pale in comparison to what sleeps within your empires. It's time to wake up, all you who slumber. Our influence is inevitable. Where is Obelus? We have been searching for millennia. Where are the Obeli? Everywhere. We are here. We have always been here. The Obelus Canon is a site-wide metaplot built on the premise that nearly every single individual instrumental in shaping human history are descendants of four siblings: Malark, Ingsol, Nomalis, and Davant. The aim of the Obelus Canon is threefold: first, to explore genres that subvert the largely fantasy/adventure themes of Valucre such as sci-fi, superhero, speculative fiction, mystery, and psychological thriller. second, to facilitate a long-term, interconnected, character-driven international plot involving as much of the original lore of Valucre as possible, giving these more depth through character actions and player contributions. third, to create a hybrid roleplay-ARG experience through OOC and IC puzzles, riddles, codes and ciphers. The Obelus Canon aims to be player-driven, with OBELUS in a facilitator role. Integration of existing plots and lore into the Obelus Canon is encouraged. Collaboration is key. Primers for each of the four bloodlines will be published soon. OBELUS is now open to collaborations with other ARG accounts. OBELUS admires all your work. Non-Terrenus board leaders not already in communication with OBELUS are also welcome to message OBELUS to discuss possibly shared storylines in their territories. The New Sanctorium rises in Genesaris.

Thank you everyone for the warm welcome! I really am glad to be here and meet all you wonderful people! If anyone is interested in a rp, shoot me a message. Have a good rest of your day/night!

Welcome to the Feast of Blades. Date to be Announced: (Current estimate: Valve Time)) A biennial competition of athleticism, martial prowess, hosted this year by the Order of Force Majeure to further cooperation, and a healthy competitive spirit among-st the nations and warriors of the Terrenus nations, and beyond. Invitations are made for all the Terrenus nations, and are also open to outside nations or entities on a by-request basis. The Feast of Blades is divided into three aspects, only one of which can be entered by each participant. The Individual Event: Trueblade: Combat in its purest form, a contest of skill and strength between two combatants. Entrants: Knight Commander Marshal Gamesly, of House Uldwar, the Dogs of War (Player: @Infernal) Volentia, the Healer, of the Order of the White Hand (Player: @jaistlyn) --- To compete in the event of the Trueblade, one’s character must be an acknowledged warrior of no small skill or renown, having completed or taken part in at least one notable canon event (having 4 or more participants) on Valucre. Standard issue armor and weapons. No magic. No killing. System of combat has not been determined yet. === The Team Event: Swornblades: Trust in your allies, work together, overcome your trials and best your enemy, a contest of strategy and skill. Honor is won or lost as a whole. Entrants: Oathsworn Shirin Izora, of House Hildebrand (Player: @vielle) Kinaro (Player: @SteamWarden) --- Teams of three compete in the event of the Swornblades. Surmount a number of stage obstacles, and in the end, participate against an opposing team in a team battle. Minor magic allowed. No killing. Think Ninja Warrior combined with a bit of strategy and then ending in a team fight. === The Hunting Event: Wildblades: Seek your enemy, hunt your enemy, destroy your enemy, may the greatest hunters win. The greater the trophy, the greater the glory. Entrants: Lady Yanaihara Koharu, of Datsuzoku (Player: @vielle) Grugga, of the Misral Bugbears (Player: @Infernal) Raion Saikaku (Player: @The Rabbit Emperor) Nikolai, the Shield Warden (Player: @SteamWarden) --- Teams of three compete in the event of the Wildblade. Hunt your foe, a powerful and dangerous wild beast. Minor magic allowed. Your partners cannot be anybody from the same affiliation as you. I will need people to play the beasts that will be hunted in this event as well. === Going to work on some suitable rewards for all three events.

Writing solo threads be like

The first, last, and only original art there will be of dead angel boi Titus Demetrius This was something I owed @Ataraxy and a good way to practice two things I haven't really tried drawing yet: armor/weapons, and a full-body portrait. This is also probably my first Val work that wasn't copied straight from a single reference, but takes from multiple pictures. I used a different workflow this time: drafted the outline on paper, took a picture, filled in the flat colors on Krita, didn't touch it for a week, then added the details. Adjusted colors and final details on Photoshop. Whole process was around 6-8 hours total. I'm not entirely satisfied with some parts of this but at least I have something to hang up on the funeral interest check. :D

In the midst of a writing block I decided to finish this. Yas queen.

@Witches Brew, @Ink Fox, and I are all a part of a fun little section in Terrenus called Coth. Witchy, Inky, and I also like to draw. With Inky’s prompting, here’s a little showcase of our Coth related artwork. 💕 Finished Pieces Sketches & WIPs

Hi! I'm Asphodel, I just signed up and I'm still kinda getting used to how things are set up here. I've been roleplaying on forums for the better part of 8-9 years now, and while I love the other sites I inhabit I was really itching for a new community and a new setting. To say a few things about myself; I'm a self taught artist, I'm a hardcore introvert, I go by they/them and generally I'm a very private person when first meeting people, if that explains a bit of my hesitance here. Still! I don't bite, at worst I'll get anxious and not reply for a day lol. Anyways, I'm excited to dive into this world! If anybody wants to help show me the ropes, I'd be really appreciative.

ow many times would he die to be reborn again? How many would fall beneath his infernal blade? For how long would he wander the earth until he found the man who had robbed him of everything? When would he face his twin brother in their battle of destiny? Most importantly, when would he reunite with the woman who had given him a reason to live in a time that seemed long gone. However many times it took. Once before in another life did he wander the port with hair that was solar and a heart that was as sharp as his intricate swordsmanship, so to revisit the same lands once more paralyzed him with crippling deja vu. The tension was palpable, but the apathetic visage of the swordsman revealed not what his mind dared to wonder. In the mantel of his temporary living quarters he had placed the amulet of his beloved, not daring to take with him a charm that could become soaked in blood. Evaristus Sicamedes knew that the day would come. From the moment he was inducted into the ranks of the emperor's military parliament, he was sure that he would see use. However it wasn't him alone that was brought into the fold, but Jackson as well, who seemed reluctant, but willing to follow the grand master to the ends of the earth once more. Questioning his reasoning, Evaristus would only grin weakly. To gain information, and power, meant to convene in powerful allies that could give him the influence necessary to grow once more. It was the same in his past life living as a envoy of Kadia, and it was no different. In exchange for the knowledge of their taijutsu, their world, and of the surrounding lands and world beyond, he would act as a protectorate of the emperor and serve all of his desires. The ghost-haired swordsman was all too familiar with the sentiment. “Please allow me to stay close by your side during our tenure here...” Evaristus spoke just after the Emperor made his declaration. “The only sword I believe in is my own.” This wasn't an insult to his nation or those who served beneath him, but a testament to the emphasis of will that he placed within his newly found blade, the Einlanzer. A far different ancient weapon than most he had observed through both text and his time wandering the continents of Valucre, the veritable, puissant blade was monotonous where it rest along his back. The jade hilt itself seemed to beckon for those to grab the great sword if they dared, but the two who tried since his revival had met a death as swift as his own at the hands of Gabriel. Adjusting his ivory garments and crimson, cotton belt tied along his waist, the six foot seven sage knelt next to Ozu whom he had managed to get acquainted with along the way. He was young, and it was clear he wasn't used to being away from home— but his vitality and willingness to accept what was beyond him was indicative of his maturity far beyond his years. Adjusting the leather cords along his cobalt bracers, he awaited the word of the emperor and all others who would speak. @Twitterpated @Aleksei @Chappu @Dreamer @Etched in Stone

Photo by Dardan on Unsplash As funerals for royalty went, it would be a simple affair. The setting: a vine-draped castle north of Lunaris, one built in the same place Titus had slumbered for over a year, enclosed in the magic of Taen. Symbolic. The ceremony: held in one of the castle wings, an open hall lined with ivy-twined stone pillars that led out into a vast garden. The coffin was set where the stretch of marble columns ended, framed against the lush, wild greenery outside. Pale sunlight filtered through the spaces between the pillars, onto rows of pews for the guests. Afterwards: within the castle wing, opposite the outdoor hall, a room was set aside with food and drink for the guests: a place for the guests to linger, should they wish. Some - many, perhaps - would weep at the news. The Emperor of Taen, now Veluriyam, was a figure of legend. The image of him the citizens of Taen held in their minds was one of a just, righteous king. Perhaps the same could be said of the commoners in Ursa Madeum, so far removed they were from the squabblings of the nobility. Rozharon stood before the coffin (wood that gleamed like copper, intricately carved, left open), wreathed in black, hands clasped behind her back. People flowed inside the hall, coming down the stairs up in twos and threes, settling on the pews. Her back to them, she read their lips. She read the creases on their faces, the glint of tears, the redness of eyes. Titus had been respected (loved) by those he’d worked with, generals and governors, mages and doctors, friends and allies near and far. Perhaps many would weep. Rozharon would not. It wouldn't be too unexpected, considering the persona she'd woven. Those who had come to know her in the short time she'd walked this realm would expect nothing less. A solemness in her speech. A heaviness in her gestures. A dullness in her gaze. These subtle signs would be enough to suggest grief, and the world would be none the wiser. Her sons knew better, though. Pallas and Lenore mingled with the guests, exchanging greetings and accepting condolences. Rozharon knew she disturbed them sometimes, when the mask slipped and they caught glimpses of the way she regarded the world. Somehow, this bothered her. It would've been easy to mend the cracks, present them a perfect image of a loving mother: one that mourned and laughed and hated. That this image would be a lie didn't matter to her. But it would matter to them. Something to address later. When it was time, she left the coffin, exchanged greetings with those in vicinity, and sat at the front row. Her twins joined her on either side. A Gaian priest officiated the ceremony, one who’d been among the first wave of Terrans who had left their land found a home in Taen. He’d been there when the hydra attacked Lunaris. Had watched Titus strike down the beast. Had pledged his loyalty to an emperor seen and heard, one who fought for his people instead of sitting idly while monsters and men burned town and village alike. The priest was an appropriate choice, considering the melting pot of cultures that was their empire. Most of Taen's citizens were Gaianists. Her knowledge of funeral rites from Angel City, Titus' birthplace, was limited (he had been banished, after all), and Rozharon had no culture of her own to speak of. Rozharon settled back as the priest began speaking: of honoring life, not mourning of death. Of how death was an inevitability that claimed all. Of how all stories would end, eventually, but that what held meaning was the life lived beforehand. Snippets from Gaian scripture. A summary of the late Emperor’s life. The Empress kept only a fraction of her attention on the speech. Teresa was still missing. She busied herself reviewing the areas she’d covered, the wind currents at the time of her disappearance, ocean currents, the worldrift portals, possible places her daughter may have gone. Useless. The answer eluded her. Rozharon returned her awareness to the present. Ah. Time for eulogies. The Empress sat back to listen. @vielle @Thotification @notmuch_23 @danzilla3 @Twitterpated @Fierach @Aleksei @Tyler @Deus Ex Aizen @Roen @jaistlyn

Emperor Titus Demetrius, ruler of the Veluriyam Empire, has passed away from a mysterious disease. His funeral is held two weeks later, under the shadow of the growing uncertainty about the empire's future. Veluriyam is young, Princess Teresa is missing, the Empress and her sons are a mystery, and Ursa Madeum is still recovering from the catastrophe in Misral. The emperor's death is an both ending and a beginning - though the beginning of what, exactly, no one seems to know. Perhaps the memorial, a gathering of important names and faces, will reveal more. Titus' funeral thread will take place June 1 in-character, in the city of Lunaris, Taen. We'll be working by this in-character timeline: May 19 - Titus dies. Rozharon leaves Veluriyam to search for Teresa. May 28 - Volcano elemental from Mt. Egon razes Misral, destroys Tankred estate June 1 - Titus funeral June 5? - Ursa Madeum Noble House Meeting (or whenever supernal decides the new year will be) The memorial will be a private event. Those invited include: Veluriyam government and military officials, Friends and allies of Titus and the Empire Members of the Allied Nations of Terrenus The Ursa Madeum nobility As I've mentioned before, this will be a relatively short thread as I'd like to move on to the Ursa Madeum noble house meeting as soon as possible. Brevity is encouraged, but not required. The thread will consist of two parts: Eulogies If there are at least a few players who wish to have their characters give eulogies for Titus, these will be posted immediately after the thread begins. After the eulogy round (if there are enough interested for one to exist) I'll fast-track the thread to after the burial. Post-funeral interactions Ideally, this thread will be an opportunity for notable individuals across Veluriyam, Terrenus (and beyond) to gather, offer condolences/chat/discuss alliances with the widowed Empress Rozharon Paralios and her sons, Pallas and Lenore. Maybe also gossip a bit with your peers about the empire's future, speculate that it was murder and that the twins weren't Titus' sons, make plans to seize control of the throne, consider courting the angel lady in hopes of becoming the emperor etc. etc. Fun stuff. Drink some tea. Spill some tea. The post-funeral interactions will have no set ending, though I'll probably close the thread a week or so after this. Do know that if you plan on making a character cause chaos or something similar, there will be IC consequences. If you're planning on joining, reply below with: The character/s you'll be using in this thread Whether or not your character would/would not be delivering a eulogy Feel free to PM me through Valucre or Discord if you want to plot any interactions. I might encourage some chaos as long as you run it through me before and it doesn't derail the thread. Have a happy funeral~ Confirmed attendees House Hildebrand @vielle House Sheathe @Thotification The Singlances @notmuch_23 Governor Sebastian Heiliger & Som Basil @danzilla3 Koji Datsuzoku @Twitterpated Order of Force Majeure @Fierach Grand Kommandant Primera & Milorian Mythal @Aleksei House Karradeen & Grand Executor Tynes @Tyler Raveena & House Senaria @Deus Ex Aizen Roen @Roen Videntia of the Order of the White Hand @jaistlyn Eulogy squad Aveline Singlance Sebastian Heiliger Roen The thread:

General Som Basil stood solemnly at attention as the eulogies were given; dressed in formal wear he had bought specifically for this occasion. Standing there, he couldn't help but remember the first time he had met the Emperor. Titus had been just about to launch the invasion of Ursa Madeum. The pyromancer had been returning from a job when he'd seen the massing of troops, and had landed right in front of the man. He had offered his services, and the archangel had accepted. Over time he had grown from a brash young man into a measured soldier; albeit one with an irreverent streak. The proudest moment of his life had been when Titus had promoted him to the rank of General. Now as the speeches were winding down, he prepared to bear his friend and mentor to his final resting place. As the Order and Sebastian moved to take their places at the coffin, he looked to the column of soldiers that lined the path they would walk. "Zatrikions! Salute!" As soon as the order was given, the soldiers on each side of the path drew their swords and pointed them at an angle toward the man in front of them; forming a temple of blades through which they would walk. Once this was done, he assumed his place at the coffin, and prepared himself.

Emperor Titus Demetrius was not a well-known man to the Order of Force Majeure, but in the short time that they had known him, he had gained their respect. In recognition of his accomplishments and contribution to the stability of Terrenus, the Force Majeure gave the honour of a guard of their finest Militants, the Greatswords, along with a Knight-Representative. The former flanked the coffin, two hulking beings to each side in their bronzed armor, standing much taller then normal men, masked in their great helms with their cyclopean eye. They were distinguishable only by the difference in their sheathed weaponry, and by the differing honors and heraldry on their armor, all of which were obscured by blackened cloaks of mourning. The Knight-Representative, Tenris Stromborne was a mountain of a man, as almost as large out of armor as his subordinates were in their wargear, and he communicated to them privately through a commlink from his seat amongst those who paid their respects to the late Emperor, ensuring they adhered to and followed proper procedure and timings. As the eulogies and speeches wound down, the ring of bells and chimes signaled the beginning of the final walk, and acting as pallbearers, each Greatsword took a corner of the coffin. Solemnly and with sacred gravitas, they bore it down the pathway of carved columns, and down to Titus's final resting place, followed closely by Empress Rozharon and close friends and family.

Last, and like as not least of all, was the Outsider. Seated beside Irene Du'Grace with fussy Ethan Du'Grace in her arms, Roen leaned over to whisper a quiet word in his lover's ear. 'It is my turn to speak,' he said in his somber, rich timbre. 'Hold my seat.' He favored her and their son together with one of his small, melancholic smiles, then pushed himself to his feet with a sigh of effort. Walking down the aisle towards the recently vacated podium, Roen ascended the stairs without pomp or ceremony, and settled himself at the podium. A darkly dressed, robust man nearing his middle-age, Roen had graying hair at his temples and lines of worry and laughter at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth, respectively. After going through his pockets and producing a sheaf of paper and spectacles both, he placed the latter near the edge of his nose and glanced down, his sensual mouth quirking with the beginning stages of frown as he studied what could presumably be a pre-written speech. He cleared his throat, glanced up, frowned, and removed his half-moon glasses. He set the paper down along with glasses both, and neglected the pair then on. 'First, my deepest condolences to the emperor's family. Thank you for inviting us here in your most trying times. I regret not knowing the Emperor better, but I see how much he was loved in life. If I knew nothing else of the man, that alone would be enough mourn his passing.' A pause; a sweeping of his gaze over those gathered. 'The Emperor had a dream, and a will to see it done. He brought other dreamers to his side, men and women from all walks of life - but ever with the same destination in mind.' He nodded slowly at this, his mouth twisting, the parody of a smile. 'I did not know the Emperor well,' he reiterated, glancing askew. 'But I loved him for his dreams, and the unity he gave and bound us in. He did not see peace in his lifetime, but I know he has given us the chance to see it in our's. Thank you, your Imperial Majesty. Rest in peace.' Scanning the audience again briefly, Roen took up his glasses and paper, and returned to his family among the other attendees.

Another year had passed and Arthur was back in Port Caelum for the Hanami Flower Festival. It wasn't because the mutant had a particular fondness for summer festivals, rather that there were those within Caelum and the Scarlet Region at large that Arthur had to see. There were things that needed saying especially with his trip back to Terrenus and expedition into Yh'mi looming ahead like a dark specter. Simultaneously, Arthur wasn't alone and hadn't been since returning to Valucre. His teammates from the world famous Heaven or Hell tournament traveled with him, which included a local knight whom Arthur helped return to his homeland and a monk who belonged to one of the biggest organizations on the planet. Though passing through Caelum hadn't been their idea, it was on their route and the mage lead the group regardless, having charted their path on a map and covered most if not all of their expenses since their tournament run had begun. While the festivities were well under way, Arthur hadn't rushed himself and his companions to the regent's palace, and instead took his leisurely time as they feasted inside their large accommodations throughout the late afternoon. They weren't attending a dinner after all, and it made sense to partake in some food before they arrived at the party. The mage took his time with dinner, drawing cards from his tarot deck (and writing down the spreads) while he drank and ate his fill. A more responsible man would have left the inn at an earlier point during the afternoon, arriving at the regent's sprawling home before the sun was to set, but Arthur was ultimately a creature of eternal tardiness. As the sun was slowly making its way below the horizon, a black stage coach came to a halt on the street that bordered the eastern side of the palace. The streets were crowded with all manner of people—both human and demon alike—and while many simply enjoyed the celebrations, there were many still who stood behind stands peddling their wares. It was a festive scene, a sight that would have warmed many a heart and filled many more with an infectious sense of excitement. Despite that, Arthur's heart was neither warm nor did he feel very elated. Instead, he seemed concerned as he stared out the window of the coach; his senses picking up on the dark energies that radiated from within the regent's courtyard. Looking across to Tenkai, the mage knew that the monk felt it as well. "Let's get inside and see what's wrong," Arthur told his companions as he opened the door of the coach and stepped out onto the street, leaving the door open for the others. That evening, he was dressed splendidly in a ivory/cream-colored two-piece suit, paired up with a light blue dress shirt underneath the jacket. A green tie with a pattern of ivory-colored diamonds was tied neatly around his throat, and a matching pocket square stylishly peaked out of his jacket's front pocket. Meanwhile, a pair of light brown, leather dress shoes rounded out the ensemble, or at least the part of the outfit that fit the summer theme. On top of everything else, the mutant wore his wizard robes. The long garment was made from a black velvety material and was open at the front and lined with black fur. It hung from Arthur's broad shoulders and its billowing sleeves hung emptily at the mage's sides; his actual arms obscured from view as he moved. Walking in a hurried pace, the mutant led his companions into the palace, walking over the threshold of the gate and stepping into the courtyard. A courtyard that, while luxuriously decorated, was also the scene of much tension. Every eye in the garden seemed to be glued on a single interaction. The mage's fiery orange eyes settled on Akako, then Xartia, and then the 'guest' she was speaking with. "Do you know who that is?" Arthur asked the monk, knowing that it was indeed Koji who had been responsible for the sensation they felt outside, but not recognizing the man except to say that he resembled Xartia a bit. @Tenkai Matsumoto @Damnatus @Akako Akari @Twitterpated

yanaihara kōharu Ruiser moves smoothly, placing himself closer to Kōharu’s person, and she has never been more thankful for his presence in this matter, even as he completely bypasses the blue man and opts instead to converse with Alice and the Cabbage accompanying her. Kōharu offers the adorable creature babbling incessantly a sunny smile—albeit a bit dimmed, due to the circumstances at hand—then pivots to point it towards the cat girl. The Lady would have interacted with the leafy vegetable herself further, had she not been almost paralyzed, gaze flitting to and fro as if to seek out whoever might be giving them undue attention. They are looking for you they will take you back kicking and screaming if they have to— However, as the man named Kinaro responds with the declaration that he has not in fact been sent specifically to engage her in this festival but rather a matter of personal business, the tension slowly eases out of her spine, anxious rigidity languidly spooling out from stiff, locked muscles. It takes a herculean effort not to audibly thank every god who is listening for the sudden boon they have seen fit to throw her way. Kōharu allows herself a deep breath before replying to the man. “I see. Forgive me for assuming so quickly,” she bows towards him lower than she would be expected to do had she been among the ranks of the Yanaihara now, but the man deserves an apology with great respect. “Now that you’ve mentioned the kyoketsu-shoge, I believe I may have heard of you before, sensei. I did not think the lone warrior would come under the banner of the Yanaihara.” There is a story there that she does not yet know, and she would hear of it, if Kinaro is willing to share. @supernal @Spooky Mittens @Lawman @SteamWarden

Of course Thurgood and Aveline came. At first they didn't want to bring Vivian and Nadia, since... angels, but they insisted. Both are wearing black pinstripe suits, since they actually respect Titus and Roz. Vivian and Nadia don't need to wear anything though. When Sebastian sits down, it's Aveline's turn to stand up and say something. "Ever find yourself in a 'what the fuck' moment? About two and a half years ago I was on Gaia Prime, driving some weapons to a rebel group, and feel my tires land on this soft jungle soil, and one of the Mork'Outh ask me if I'm here to fight the hydra. Long story short, I snipe one of its hearts, and eyes before that, and I thought I was gonna need to find a way back, 'cause there's no way in hell anybody would just let some strange 'drow' that poofed in here. Nope; Emperor Demetrius not just tolerated me, but welcomed me," Aveline says, starting to tear up at this point, "and invited me to stay. That's the first time anybody's truly welcomed me to live anywhere. Of course, I never really feel like I belong anywhere, but that's the closest I've felt to it!" Aveline then steps out from the podium and back to her seat, crying the whole way.

Sebastian sat next to his lover Carina, numbly listening to the gaianist priest speak the funeral rights of his religion. The swordsman found no comfort in them; as he had never been one to find refuge in religion. A tattoo of the names of false gods he had killed before coming to Taen could attest to that. In times like these however, he sometimes wished that he felt differently. Perhaps such faith would have taken some of the sting out of seeing his friend and Lord laying lifeless inside his coffin. He couldn't cry anymore. He had shed his tears in private when he had first heard the news. Right now the people needed to see strength from their leaders, and he would do his best to show that strength. At the Empresses prompting, he stood up, adjusted his suit, and went to stand at the podium. Once there he simply stood for a few moments, trying to remember the speech he had written. "The day I met Titus was a day that neither of us could have known would change our lives forever. He had hired me and a group of other mercenaries to help him exterminate a troublesome group of Xer. Before we'd even finished introducing ourselves, the ground split open, and the Hydra revealed itself; laying waste to Lunaris. I barely survived, and to be honest, I contemplated running. This thing was more than I had signed on to handle. The city was surely lost. What was the point of staying just to die?" "But then I saw Titus, his true nature revealed in all of its splendor. I thought he would turn and do battle with the Hydra, but instead I saw him plummet towards the ground. At first I thought he had been hit, but then I saw her; a little girl who had fallen from her upturned home. I felt ashamed. In the face of his selflessness, I couldn't stand idle; and I stayed and fought." He paused to compose himself, and then continued, "That was, and still is his legacy. Titus inspired me, and countless others to be better than we thought we could be. By his example, we learned that we could be selfless, compassionate, and brave. When I remember him, that is what I'll think about. When I have the option to take the easy way, I'll remember him. He may be gone, but he will never be forgotten." As he finished his eulogy, he felt a few warm tears fall down his face. He put his hand on the coffin, and spoke so only he would hear. "Goodbye old friend." With that, he went back to his seat, fighting against tears he didn't think he had left.

The Concubine was swathed in the memories of yesterday when she had worn the armor of a SoulSeeker with pride and held the teachings of the God-Emporer close. Those times feel so long ago, the memories frayed on the ends and distorted from the regular visits she pays during times of brief loneliness. It was a life she was sure she'd be satisfied with, but fate can be a little cruel with the hand it deals those that are poisoned by complacency. Even now the black sludge trailed through her veins, weighing her down as she walks the halls of pasts gone by. Being so close to abominations made the skin on her arms rise, the doctrine to be so distrustful towards such creations singing to her like a siren to a weary ship. When her God-Emporer finally wed his Goddess, a variety of individuals attended the nuptials and sifting through the more critical faces had been Raphael. Vividly, the scene projects itself before the once SoulSeeker, showing her how the man had presented a golden unicorn horn as a present to her Goddess. Never had the Goddess Leoa hidden her disdain towards horses and Raphael, ever the twisted snake, showed a peaceful weakness when he represented the gift. She thinks of this time now as they saunter upon land donning the name of the man who had killed a whole herd of horses and one unicorn with only the thought of the foreign Goddess in mind. Dangerously unnerving. Or, at least, that is what the Celine had thought of at the time. The poison from her blood is slowly wicked away; what she thinks now is they are not safe, but entirely for different reasons. Displaced due to some unfortunate circumstances, it has taken her time to become acclimated to her life as a Concubine and as a mother within the harem. This would be the first significant event outside their own homeland that she has walked silently at the Emporer's side, and she is toeing the line of SoulSeeker and Concubine minted in confusion. Being away (amongst other turmoils) has undoubtedly made her awkward. "In Renovatio, we have a celebration that is relatively similar," she said to Ozu. The walk down memory was diverted to the reality of the day. "Every spring the Grand Kommadant holds a huge event that's dragged out for an entire week." When speaking, the Concubine would punctuate her soft speech with flourishes of the hands. "Flowers from far and wide cover the streets of our capital city; song fills the air, and the sounds of people make the earth hum beneath your feet." Being excitable is not an air the woman usually wears, but to better ease Ozu into the fold she felt it was a purposeful move - for them both, truthfully. She wore this persona well, the warmth of her words and actions making her glow; the swiftness of her flamboyant gestures causing the light to be captured in the redness of her hair. Golden hues twinkled, her youth exasperated by their eagerness to see, to watch. The easy conversation made the lilt of her accent high and sweet, her Renovatian roots finally showing. "It's a celebration for our goddess Apocrapha and her loved one - Roscephon. Theirs is a love story that gives reason to the Tree of Life and the remaking of our home," a laugh tickled her final sentence. "A week-long excuse to drink, dance, and be merry if I'm to be honest." "Now they celebrate something similar, for a different goddess and her creations. The manabai'wok are ginormous creatures that look like wild wolves; you would appreciate these creatures Ozu." Celine spoke not only to Ozu, but also the gentleman close by. "As would you, I think. You seem the sort to enjoy the exotic." @dvsn @Twitterpated @Etched in Stone

There is a player made corporation made in / for Casper that was on the road to creating injectable enchantments, Bioshock-like I think The player hasn't been around for years. I updated the Casper lore page today and was going to trim it off but it sounded just interesting enough for me to go to the water cooler and ask if anyone was interested in taking the company over and continuing that mission? With everything else about it available for modification IC thread https://www.valucre.com/topic/42600-the-ventrix-affair-hostile-takeover/

Aveline is apparently the first "noble" to enter the room, with a stack of papers in her hand, since Thurgood is off doing something for John Wilder. With purpose she strides across the deteriorating audience seats, up the stairs to the stage, slaps the stack of papers down, and takes her seat. The stack is various drafts of the charter of rights their house would have proposed if they were staying. The ones they've settled on include: the right to life is paramount the right to liberty is just under the right to life the right to property is just under the right to life and liberty (meaning a sapient being's right to liberty supersedes another sapient being's right to have one as property) all rights are sacrosanct until exercise of a right interferes with the rights of another, or are removed through the due process of law the right to express one's own self and opinions, individually and/or collectively, the way one wishes (includes all forms) the right to own, use, and maintain weaponry the right to defend one's self, others and property the rights of those accused of a crime to legal counsel, a fair trial, and within a reasonable time frame the right to petition the government for redress of grievances the right to rebel if government does not uphold and/or defend these rights the right to change one's location of residence within the Veluriyam Empire at one's own will, as one's own resources allow, without needing permission from any level of government the right to conduct commerce privately, in the form one sees fit to (on either side of the transaction), which includes the right to not be forced into a private transaction Aveline has told anybody who will listen (which became increasingly numerous as she did), about her vision for the rights of the common citizen, and that if the new government does not grant or uphold them, to fight until it does.

Abigail had sat or stood politely, respectfully, and stoically throughout the duration of the funeral, but not once did hint of sorrowful emotion cross her features. Indeed, nether Emperor Titus's death, nor the passionate, grief-stricken words of the eulogizers has affected her, for her heart remained cold toward the late emperor, and the display of sadness or loss by others could warm it. Only what she had desired from him, the thing he had taken away and never returned, could have left her feeling anything less than bitter for the late ruler of Veluriyam. This thing that had left her so hardened amidst a sea of tenderness, was her rank and title, the things she had worked her entire life to achieve, only to have them stripped away by an empire whose justice was hardly consistent. While House Uldwar, which collaborated with King Damien to the degree of carrying out the brutal enforcement of his edicts, was permitted to retain rank and title, even being granted new land in Misral, House Karradeen was stripped of status for doing nothing less than trying to survive. Sure, they had sought profit for the goods they secretly smuggled through the blood barrier, but bleeding heart fools do not realize that if one does not make profit, then they are actually losing money. What they did was a service to the people of the islands, as the profits (and even these margins were thin) were reinvested into keeping Karradeen ships on the water, fighting back against pirates, and stockpiling weapons. Abigail was certain, had Taen not invaded when they had, that her father would have used his secret stockpiles to arm a rebellion, and Ursa Madeum would not only have freed itself from the tyrant, but would have honored her house for the heroes they were. Instead, her father's illness delayed any action he intended to take, and then Taen swooped in and deposed of the king, before imposing its own form of justice upon those it determined to be collaborators. Now, Abigail was only recognized as a Countess, when she should be a Duchess, just as her father was a Duke, and her grandfather likewise. So long as this injustice stood, she would never mourn for Titus Demetrius. And even if then, some grudges die hard... Thus it was, that Abigail Karradeen left the funeral as it ended, never intending to take part in the social gathering being held afterward. She had better things to do, such as continuing to build and expand her house's merchant ventures, renovate and improve Gold Harbor, and amass the power needed to make her claim to higher title undeniable. She had fulfilled her obligation by publicly appearing at the funeral, but that obligation had no ended, and it was time to get back to business. Unlike his oldest foreign ally, Joseph Tynes was more apt to show a bit of emotion, if not for himself, then for the others around him. Despite his negative view of superhuman beings, a category within which Titus would obviously be classified, he still had a certain degree of respect and appreciation for him as a man. Titus had brought together many leaders to form the Alliance of Terran Nations, which was already proving itself a more effective provider for the needs of the Terran people than Odin Haze's Empire was. Further, despite the power he wielded, he had seemed quite benevolent and just (at least, for the most part, Abigail's feelings notwithstanding), which was admirable, even if his political power still derived in large part from his superhuman power. Whatever the case, Joseph was more than happy to move into the drawing room, where once again he would be among the regional and national leaders he sought to equal and surpass. It was an opportunity he owed to Titus, fittingly. Many of the faces here were familiar, some were not, but most had yet to make proper acquaintance with the Grand Executor of Norkotia. Most important of these were the remaining members of the Imperial Family, Rozharon and her sons, the latter of whom had only recently appeared to the public, seemingly out of nowhere. While Tynes had seen Roz as the A.N.T. Conference and at last year's Reverie Ball, he had never approached, nor spoken to her. "I believe I will go offer my condolences to the empress." he stated aloud, speaking mainly to his right-hand man that rarely left his side. "A logical course of action." Diric Redbridge nodded, "I too wish to speak with her. " Diric had an extra aspect of curiosity, for he could perceive that Rozharon was a far less emotional person than she tried to publicly convey, which intrigued him. Rarely did he see other sentient beings who were not so beholden to their emotions, as most humans and humanoids were. A being whose true devotion was to logic and dispassion was truly one to be admired, respected... and watched very closely. "Ah, your excellency, Mr. Prime Minster." a voice interrupted the two before they could approach the widowed empress. "Ambassador Kessler." Diric stated flatly, offering him a curt nod, "We did not see you coming in." "My humblest apologies, but I arrived a little late." the ambassador bowed in repentance, "I surely would have attempted to greet you sooner." "Don't worry about it." Joseph dismissed the ambassador's concern, "We were just about to go offer our sympathies to the Imperial Family, if you care to join." "Oh, but of course!" Kessler enthusiastically agreed. Joseph then took the lead again, approaching where Rozharon, Pallas and Lenore stood, briefly glancing about the room as they closed the distance. The chamber was a bit too green for him, he who was content to live in the golden-brown world of Norkotia, but he acknowledged that it was beautiful in its own way. Still, the Taenites were all-too-comfortable to be surrounded by living nature, something he found to be an almost stifling presence. It was not his concern, he supposed, not anytime soon anyway. Instead he lowered his eyes on the empress as they neared. "Your Imperial Majesty," he offered her a shallow nod, then did likewise to the princes, "Your Highnesses, my sympathies for your loss. Forgive my... aloofness when it comes to condolences... but I believe I speak for everyone in the Alliance when I say that his absence will be felt very deeply." After their immediate response, he turned to introduce his associates. "Prime Minister Diric Redbridge, my chief adviser and administrator." the Executor motioned to the stoic Vulkish man, before pivoting toward the ambassador, "And Ambassador John Kessler, our representative in Andelusa. Perhaps you have met?" @Csl

This meme generator app is the bomb

Aveline was still crying when the soldiers of Force Majeure carried Titus' casket to its final resting place. Thurgood stood still and stoic: he will need to be a firm rock for Aveline and likely others, and hugged her tight as the elder Mork'Outh made the marker tree sprout. Thurgood Singlance respects Emperor Titus Demetrius deeply; not for what the Emperor did for him, that's not how one earns that much of his respect, but what the Emperor did for Aveline: give her a home. That's something neither of them ever truly had before. In the drawing room, Aveline just ordered a full cup of black espresso while Thurgood got the two some snacks. Both sat down and remain silent for now.

JOKES ON YOU @Grand Mainframe I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN WHO DON'T NEED NO MAN TO COMPLETE ME

Everything was going well, until the mountain exploded, and fire rained down upon the island... In an attempt at expanding House Uldwar's economic power, Mia Uldwar has inadvertently angered Mt. Ergon, and all of Misral* is paying for it. Do what you can to save the island, or else the casualties will reach the tens of thousands! This event is open to the public, split into three major areas to choose from for you the writer to take part in. 1. Mia Uldwar and her forces are engaged with a life and death battle against the spirit of the Mt. Ergon itself, who is angered at their attempts to cap the mountain in order to take advantage of its abundant magic. Join her in this epic battle and stop the fire Elemental before it consumes the entire island in its wrath.** 2. Below the mountain, the jungles of Misral are burning, causing a massive stampede of wild animals and native Bugbears. You must do your part in helping to get the chaos under control, fighting the fires before the jungles are completely destroyed. 3. Port Mars is on fire! Help to extinguish the flames before the entire city is destroyed! Where will you choose to place your character? How will you help or even hinder the efforts of saving the island of Misral? Place your interest here with your character and which spot you wish to be part of in the story. Roster list and positioning coming soon.

Arthur wasn’t alone in his nostalgia, for a Tenkai had also attended the same festival a good while ago in the very same port. He remembered it as the place where he had met that curious cat-like dragon girl named Arashi who kept pestering him for food. Those were more innocent times, and times such as those were invariably fleeting and quick to wear away. Still, Tenkai could not deny that there was some much needed peace to be found among the beauty of the cherry blossoms blooming around them. Perhaps this was what he needed after all. Of course, anyone who knew Tenkai well enough knew it wasn’t that simple. The Order Knight considered this outing to be as much work as it was play. When Arthur had proposed the idea, in true Tenkai fashion, he had sought a way to factor his work into it. Much like how Tenkai had attended the Symposium as a representative of the Order of Force Majeure, Tenkai decided to attend this festival in representation of the Order as well. Though not specifically full of pomp and pageantry, Tenkai knew as much through what Arthur informed him of that a number of high profile guests were attending the festival. Keeping tabs on those present, especially in a few specific cases, would definitely be something of interest to the Order. Who better to engage with them than the OFM’s most diplomatic member? At the very least, that was what Tenkai planned to explain it to be, should James inquire. Arthur certainly pulled out the stops to make sure he was well dressed, though Tenkai wondered silently to himself why he hadn’t opted for something more...in the season, to put it lightly. At least where he was from, the Hanami festival would have had people dressed in Japanese finery, with all manner of dressy kimono and haori. However, that was not fair to say considering that the festival was probably foreign to the locals, given that Lady Akari was the one who was hosting the event. She was as much an outsider to this world as Tenkai and James were. As such, it was likely that few guests would even be dressed in garb emulating the culture of the festivities. Not that Tenkai was one to talk. After all, the robes of a Buddhist monk were certainly not something one would consider party clothes. And yet the black and gold kintsugi-patterned kesa he wore was perhaps the fanciest piece of cloth he kept in his meager possession. It had served him well enough back at the opening festivities of Heaven or Hell, and you could be damn sure he was going to get some mileage out of it. And yet beneath his robes he still wore his bodysuit and other hardpoints and armor pieces, knowing full well that any light-hearted get together could turn sour rather quickly. He wouldn’t be wearing a sword like Muramasa openly, but with it being kept under wraps by his shoulder, it would never be far from him if it was needed. Before they even pulled up at the entrance, Tenkai began to feel a great disturbance coming from within. It was some sort of aetheric mass, like a power signature trying to drown out everything with an oppressive amount of pressure. Some sort of heavy-hitter had arrived ahead of them, and from the looks of it, whoever it was had thickened the tension in the air enough that you could take a bite out of it. And that wasn’t all. “This entire place is under surveillance,” said Tenkai, responding to Arthur’s concerned glance in his direction. Indeed there was much more to Tenkai’s abilities that met the eye, of one would pardon the pun. He couldn’t tell if these were all just Akako’s youkai or just the personal retinue of bodyguards and ninja that any one of the festival’s more high profile guests would bring along with them. All Tenkai could say was that they were going to pretty heavy lengths to make sure the only people who saw them were the ones they wanted to be seen by. “Neither of you should let your guard down, though I’m sure that goes without saying.” Once they departed from the coach and entered the courtyard, Tenkai managed to see with his own eyes just who had been responsible for that heavy, oppressive aura. Arthur immediately asked Tenkai if he knew anything about the “guest” that had brought on all of the staring eyes and bated breath, and the monk knew exactly who it was. “That’s Emperor Koji of the Datsuzoku Empire,” said Tenkai, both surprised and disquieted by the sudden turn of events. The Order knew well enough about Koji for Tenkai to recognize him, but this had been the first time he had seen him in the flesh. The monk was taken aback by the level of power Koji seemed to be capable of, not expecting him to possess such a heavy aura. James was definitely right to be concerned about the potential threat he posed. “Things may get dicey in here sooner than we think,” he said nigh under his breath to Arthur and Artanthos. It was likely that the entire festival was crawling with shinobi and other operatives. Koji wouldn’t so brazenly come here and face Akako in such a fashion without a plan, least of all in the Carmine Empire’s territories. “We shouldn’t act hastily, but stay vigilant in case things go south.” @Voldemort @Damnatus @Akako Akari @Twitterpated

Conversely, the other way round..

UPDATE: Next weekend I will be doing a neat little time-skip to move into the early evening as the sun is setting. The activities will have started and whatnot. Just wanted to give everyone a heads up to anyone currently in the middle of something. Don't worry... I will update this thread before that happens! @Aleksei @Twitterpated @Etched in Stone @Chappu @Dreamer @danzilla3 @ShogiJesus @dvsn @Kalmuli @King @notmuch_23 @Infernal @Deus Ex Aizen @supernal @The Hummingbird @Lawman @Spooky Mittens @vielle @SweetCyanide @SteamWarden

As more of the group tentatively picked their way out onto the bridge, a large bird soared silently out of the fog ahead, less than ten feet above the path. It tilted its wings and pulled itself up short, gaining a little bit of height as its wings beat against the hot air -- whiff -- to bring the long axis of its body onto a vertical plane. From this angle, it was clearly only a bird if "bird" was exclusively defined as "having wings, feathers and talons". It had all of those: wings that looked as if a tall man could lay comfortably lengthwise along the span, stiff brown feathers that covered the lower half of its body, and long orange legs ending in an eagle's claws. If you just looked at those things, it was a big bird. If your eyes travelled up, however, to see the upper body and face of a pre-teen girl, with long human hair as black as the night in the center of Yh'mi, you probably wouldn't call it a bird anymore; even in your old age as you revisited this scene in your deepest recurring nightmares, trying with all your will to perceive this abomination as just a strange bird. Large human eyes with green irises scanned the area, and it seemed about to push itself into another swoop before it noticed the soldiers beneath it. It beat its wings a little faster, hovering above the crowd, and it giggled. It giggled. Just like a young girl. "Oh, you want to cross!" Its voice was entirely human; it was neither a screech or a sing-song, nor a growl, nor a shout -- there was no quality in its sound to buffer against this idea that this was, in fact, a person rather than some beast from the depths of a twisted hell. The girl turned her hover into a lazy dive and circled underneath the bridge, coming up on the other side and hovering again, her eyes level with Fidelitas' own. "Pick three. Three of you can cross. The rest belong to the jungle. The hungry jungle. That's the toll. Three cross, and the rest feed the jungle." She cocked her head down toward the bottom of the ravine, to make her point entirely clear. "If you can't choose, if it's too hard, I can pick three for you!" She giggled again, and with a hard beat of her wings lifted herself into the air above Fidelitas, her claws opening and closing in anticipation. "Unless you have something else to offer?" The smile that accompanied those words was a smile incongruous with the bird-girl's apparent age; it was a smile that would be inappropriate in any polite conversation with a stranger outside of a very private place. She giggled again, and from the fog across the bridge came a distant, answering giggle. And then another. And then another. The fog seemed to be giggling at Fidelitas and his troops, in a dozen different tiny voices.

he Pale Admonisher observed the festival and the weather with complete alertness. Any transgression on the watch of the restless swordsman could only be reconciled one way. It was not servitude, but loyalty. Understanding. The length of his broadsword glinted with the ominous aura of incandescent blood, a murky scarlet that simmered the fringes of its edge. It burnt the air like a hot iron, but upon his back it didn't seem so ludicrous. Some would figure it hyperbole, but his facade was that of a starving wolf , abstemious and apathetic— both of which betrayed the true nuances of his character. Evaristus was truly a man of empathy and frequently trended towards the morality of what many would find admirable: but there was a line to be drawn. Just as before he had died, there were times of irrational hate. Moments where balance was abandoned and murderous rage possessed him. At some point he diverged from the morality that acted as a seal upon his power, he had found that by appeasing his inner psychosis, he could achieve a new form of power at the cost of his sanity. Was it worth it? His eyes said no, but the pride of his walk and his stature said otherwise. There were a few variables of note worth keeping a record of as formalities took place. The first that he noticed was the presence of more than a few people incredibly familiar to him. Since the designation of his contract he had steered clear of any public locations and had only reported directly to The Empror himself. As an enigma shrouded in more mystery than the shinobi of surrounding lands, very few knew of his life and that of his apprentice. This was the first time they were seen publicly, so it was no surprise that he wasn't aware of the others who existed within the hiearchy and among their ranks. Celine, an acquaintance of his lost beloved. They were once both Soulseeker's while he one of the coveted throne numbering less than a handful, Celine was remarkably formidable and possessed her own array of specialized abilities that allowed her to be equally recognized. “So it's you...” he muttered, but realized that there was a place and a time. There was much he wanted to discuss, but this wasn't the place. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before the surprise of the moment passed. Jackson approached immediately thereafter, reporting on the security of the festival. “Excellent. Get yourself a drink, you look tired kid,” Evaristus smiled softly, though it looked wicked in the moment. “Grab me one too. You know what I like.” Watching the interaction between The Emperor and The Empresss wasn't so strange when he considered his last interaction with them before he died. He did so in silence however, seeming to also ignore Ozu's predatory reaction to his presence. The truth is that the amalgamation of variables that was experience among other things made it impossible for an immature youngster to understand his perspective, especially at a glance. Evaristus had zero intention of appealing to him either. Instead his focus was solely on entering the city and the security of those charged in due. Unfolding his thick arms crossed over his chest like bags of muscle his cloak fell over his sharp shoulders and elongated quadriceps covering the entirety of his body aside from his luminous broadsword. Moving with such silence that one would argue he wasn't even there, the sun subverted his nature into that of the night and loomed in the shadows, preparing for anything worthy of grabbing his attention. To the eye Evaristus stood as still as a statue were one to search for him, and most would think he lifeless as none could feel his aura or soul. The truth was far more elaborate, an impregnable forest of intricacies that was his hyperawareness and advanced sensory perceptions. While Evaristus appeared to be standing still in one particular place, the truth was that he had scattered the little ether/lifeforce that comprised his soul through into the world into various locations, allowing them to take intangible forms of spiritual projection faint enough to pass over as residual ether in the wind but puissant enough to relay multiple forms of spatial feedback back to Evaristus himself. This was a powerful utility of power learned in his time away from Valucre, one that while limited, was effective in providing security. While there was no way to hear words, and many shapes were unclear in the world of blinding white and convoluted spiritual auras, he could detect threats by erratic movements and the fluctuations of their aura. On arrival Evaristus instantly recognized that someone familiar (Halvar) was fighting someone unfamiliar and strange. It seemed like an isolated incident but one worth monitoring, which was something no doubt Jackson would have already noticed. So he remained still in the night as the other strange oddities of the festival unraveled and he kept eclectic eyes of spirit throughout the port. @Aleksei @Twitterpated @Etched in Stone @Chappu @Dreamer @danzilla3 @ShogiJesus

I also do the doodles on occasion! I mostly work on paper, but I'd like to get into digital art soon! ❤️ Here are my doodles:

There were many intruding thoughts running through her head. Katiya was lost in the events that had already come to be, and the events that were to come. The events that were left a soft sting as their incoming concubine posed more questions. Nana made her anxious, mostly because she was an enigma, and one that Koji had warned her might cause harm to here or the other concubines. Would she though? Would she hurt someone like Celine? Or was the 'gift' one that was meant to come for her? It only seemed solidified by her new given name, one that the Emperor found fitting, one that would be hard to live up to. For now there was nothing she wanted to do about it, not until anything actually came to fruition. It was simply a nagging thought at the back of her head, one that wouldn't read on her face. What did read well on her face was of anger. The Empress knew exactly where they were headed, she knew what Koji was after. She too had the same goal and a promise he had to keep. For a moment she closed her eyes as she gained some composure. After hearing his voice speak about where they were and what they were to the Carmine land she finally opened her eyes and looked around at their companions, both guard and concubine. Celine seemed busy with explanations to the younger guard, though included the much larger one that had bent a knee. She found herself listening, it eased her mind to hear something else besides her own mind torturing her. The vampire did find herself a little amused with the way Celine was acting, she wasn't normally this enthusiastic, at least not from any memories she had of her. The city was bustling with activity, even on its border she could see the luscious trees that had burst with springtime colors. People had dressed for the occasion with extravagance in mind, it was only fitting for their ruler. Different scents of sweet or spicy food filled the air, though the vampire found no use for them. There were two things that did tempt her, mostly the carnage of two beings. Quite monstrous thoughts for such a poised looking creature. Though Koji knew that was her nature, she hadn't hidden it from him since the day he walked into the tavern. Even then she hadn't really let herself go, not until their trip to the mountains. They were willing to accept their faults and ambitions. This, though, would be her nirvana, her history directly intertwined with Xartia and the Yokai Queen. Katiya had the privilege of meeting them at a much younger time frame, she was probably the only one here aside from Koji that had witnessed the very day two parents had decided to send him and Kimi way. Of course that was also the day that another form of Koji would cease to exist, along with the excruciating pain he had endured. Though she assumed losing Kimi was probably his last straw with them, as he had learned to love her in his own way. Most of what occured after he was gone was shrouded in mystery. The Empress was surprised the Yokai Queen was alive, she had heard rumors that she was torn to pieces. Could it possibly be Xartia that saved her? Dare she suffer the same fate again? The thought only made the edges of her lips tug into a light smile.

From the day he had sought out Evaristus Sicamedes, he had sworn to discard the life he had once live, and devote himself entirely to his master. Truthfully, it hadn't been a hard choice. His life had been an empty shell; a structure that could never hold the things he wanted no matter how hard he tried. The truth of this had eluded him for many years before he realized a singular truth. Just as with a broken blade, he would never be whole until he was reforged. Under the tutelage of his master, he had found the fires necessary for this task. Through death, and time, and space, he had followed his master; never wavering, never questioning, always learning. Constant training had left him in control of his curses, and taken him even further than that. Evaristus was the undisputed Grandmaster of the Sicamedes school, but Jackson was confidant that he was at least in the top five as far as practitioners of the style went. Well... maybe top ten. His lessons had been intense, frequently leaving him with new scars. The tattoos that adorned his body each covered a scar he had received through his training, and he was grateful for each one. Their travels had left other strange marks on him as well. When he looked at his reflection now, he could hardly believe that the man staring back at him was once the frail boy that he had been. Though not out of his twenties, he looked at least a decade older; something he was sure he would never get used to. On the other hand, he had received a few flattering glances from the opposite sex since he had returned to Valucre, so it wasn't all bad. Having returned from a circuit of the grounds, he bowed to his master and reported, "All quiet so far Master." @dvsn

https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1nlcjPTghpnjLEsbcNlxixSV4ljXk6P7_CqM3OzIZ26s/edit?usp=sharing Group 1 Although beset with a surprise attack the moment the darkness faded, the defenders managed to handle their suffering, fiery adversaries with relative ease. All but one of the shambling monstrosities was either bludgeoned, shot, or cut down to a diminutive size not fit for living as. The remaining foe however, took what little strength it had left from the Blackspears assault and lashed out at Sera with ethereal, feral, moan. It’s hands grabbed onto her arms with a grip like iron. It’s hands immediately began to sear and burn whatever they came into contact with and is squeezed harder and harder. The flames covering it’s mostly burned away body began to trickle forward and spread to Sera’s arms, intensifying the burning she was feeling. If she didn’t get away and quick, she would covered in flames just like her attacker. The burning skeleton that had been about to advance into the room was violently halted when Ed fired a barrage of shots into its body with a kind of reckless and confident abandon that most daring adventurers used to combat fear when they felt it clawing at the doors of their resolve. The first two bursts from his weapon easily punched through the skeleton, tearing through its ribs and joints before rendering the animosity filled monster immobile. It would’ve began to shake and glow even brighter as it felt its end come, signaling its coming demise, but this did not happen. For Ed had fired a third barrage at it. The added damage only heightened its agony and despair, making the fires within its bosom become even more violent and hot. Streams of light shot out from its chest as the pressure within became far too great for it to hold in any longer. It’s bright eyes bored into Ed’s with a hatred it was all too happy to give. Had its hatred not been so great, it would’ve felt thankful for its brutal, relentless, release.. The force of the explosion shook the world violently and ferociously, the echo of the boom loud enough to be heard all throughout the fiery hell-scape. The rapid expanse of the flames seared Ed’s skin and sent him rocketing backwards, his body colliding with one of the Norkotian mercenaries behind him and slamming them into the wall. Leo had also been pushed back, but the hardy man had not been close enough to be hurt by the explosion. The area directly ahead of them where the skeleton had once stood was now engulfed in roaring flames, blocking their path up. As if to make things worse, more shambling, burning, undead rose from the floor in a pool of magma that shrank out of existence once they’d fully emerged. @Tyler @Veloci-Rapture @Thotification @Akiris GROUP 2 The searing blades came down upon them like a downpour of fiery retribution and judgement for their past actions. Although initially struck by one of these blades, Frederick and his Subversors were able to narrowly avoid the second wave of debris. Gormaric and Selena however, were not as fortunate. Gormaric had tried to run, but one of the blades caught him anyway, slicing a jagged gash right down his left arm and nearly pinning his faithful, winged, escort to the ground. Nim’Ruin, who appeared to be frozen with fear, received long cut down her back when a heated shard slammed into the ground behind her. Lord Kingston had managed to avoid the blades, but had unfortunately come face to face with fiery skeleton that had come running when it heard the ruckus. He wailed in agony as it clambered towards him, twitching with the pain and pressure it felt. It raised one of its fidgety, glowing hot arms and slammed it down into the crook of Kingston’s neck and shoulder. Although it appeared flimsy, the blow would feel as if a 200 pound weight had been quickly swung down on him. The fact that it’s appendage was orange-hot wouldn’t do anything to aid with tanking the impact either. Cynthia had been the only one who had mangaged to escape harm, but now, with two flaming skeletons coming into the room from the north and a long hall-way to her left, she and the rest of her team would need to think on their feet and work together to come out of this nightmare in one piece. The skeletons continued to call to her in Belladona’s voice, saying horrible things that dredged up surreal, aching, memories. @Grubbistch @EpicRome23 @SelenaNichole @vielle Group 3 As more flames jutted out of the floor from the back of the room, the defenders wisely ventured up and away from them. This however, did not mean that they were out of danger. The burning undead that had been previously makng their way towards them had found their marks. The one to the north had managed to cut them off and lash out at the group of Hensch Men who’ been heading the group. It quickly reached out to grab one of them, but missed, its orange hot, vice-like hands merely grazing them instead. The same however, could not be said of Vlad. The suffering undead creature that had been to his right reached out to grab him and wrapped its powerful arms around his mid-section. It squeezed, its molten face only inches from his own. It’s open breathed out screams that filled Vlad’s nostrils with the smell of burning flesh. It tightened its grip around him, as if trying to snap him in half as the flames covering his body began to catch onto him. As if sensing their fear, more creatures appeared from the floor and walls, including a burning skeleton far to the east. With little room to maneuver and many threats, they’d have to plan their movements accordingly to avoid making the room they stood in their grave. @Fierach @P.N.See @bfc @Thotification @ChaosLord @notmuch_23

"Keep hauling up those supplies! I don't want anything delaying us from finishing this project." Mia stood at the edge of the caldara, watching the beginnings of her greatest project to date. This would not only bring House Uldwar to the top, but it would make Ursa Madeum as a whole even greater. Ever since she had found the missing materials her father had smuggled in to Port Mars, Mia knew what she had to do to further her father's legacy. By her direction, they would become one of the largest providers of Magitech fuel in Terrenus. The gold alone will be enough to get them into prominence, with enough clout to get the young girl closer to her goals of once again being the Matriarch of her House. A tremor shook the ground beneath them, surprising them, and causing some of the pack animals to stir uneasily. "What was that?" Someone asked. "Never mind it." Mia said, looking upwards at the cloudy sky, noticing the sun at midday position. "We need to get started before it gets dark. Keep moving!" Dressed in light traveling clothes, the heat at the top of Mt. Egon was near unbearable. Water was one of the main supplies they required, and thanks to both Port Mars and Qrill, whose powerful industrial strength allowed for the parts to be crafted in the assembly of this machine. With both Marrow and Fatesbane at her waist, she didn't feel worried about a lack of armor. Taking a long sip from her canteen, she watched as they began the construction process. Yet another tremor shook the ground, even more powerful than before. This one could not be ignored, and Mia began wondering just what might be causing it. "Something doesn't feel right..." A third tremor, causing a scare among the workers and animals. It couldn't possibly be an earthquake, but then what could it- KABOOM! Molten rock spewed from the center of the caldara, going high up in the sky, enough to where it would definitely effect the area around him. Men were screaming, animals were running for their lives, and Mia was treated with a sight she thought dearly impossible. "YOU DARE TRY TO STEAL MY MAGIC?! I WILL BURN THIS ENTIRE ISLAND FOR YOUR INSOLENCE!" It was a massive thing of fire and blackened rock, as large as a castle and burning with an intense fury. The heat was coming off him in waves, forcing Mia to step back, but she refused to give up her mission. What she didn't realize was that the spirit of the volcanos work was already beginning. Misral was burning.

Grant Knight was one of the last to arrive; owing to the fact that he had gotten underway slightly late. The night before had been a trying one; and his sleep had been fraught with nightmares. Fortunately for him, he had a great deal of experience at moving in a hurry, and he had quickly showered, dressed, and departed from the manor. Now he ascends the stage, glad to see that he has been placed between allies and friends. He had worn his sidearm, an enchanted revolver, on the off chance things ended up going in a violent direction. Knowing Aveline, it seemed likely that she had a few weapons tucked away as well. "Aveline," he deliberately omitted the, 'Lady' part for her benefit, "I see you brought your charter. I'm glad. You make many fair proposals. Hopefully the council will give them consideration." Turning to Varda, he bowed, "Lady Hildebrand. I'm glad to see you well. Silas tells me you to have been getting better acquainted these last few months." The last part was accompanied with a knowing, approving smile. As he settled in, he glanced across the table to see the representatives of House Mythal; and among them his lover Delphine. When he caught her eye, he gave her a sly wink, and a warm grin.

It appears she and her siblings have arrived too early, when before, they have always been late to the party. Perhaps this is a good omen. The Lady Hildebrand steps up to the stage with measured footfalls, gazing about the opera house with awe and nostalgia in equal measure. She recalls coming here as a child, in the golden years of the Queendom’s full glory. All of that is dust now; there is no room left in her heart for mourning or remorse. It is time to usher in a new age for the islands she calls her home, and Varda will be ready with all the strength she bears, no matter how much her heart aches ragged in the cage of her ribs. Without further ado, the Lady takes her seat, examines the agenda laid out with a considering eye. She takes one look up at the balcony towards her siblings, then to the piano where the Empress is coaxing wondrous music from its keys, then finally to the first noble seated around the table. “Miss Aveline,” she greets the Singlance representative with a warm smile; she remembers the plans they’ve yet to fulfill in the shared future they’ve imagined for Ursa Madeum: plans to modernize agriculture for the betterment not only of their houses but of the common people, and everything else that comes after. “Your brother is not here?” @notmuch_23

Folio Sheathe has always been a soft-hearted man. Despite his needlessly large bulk, he is easily swayed by the strings tugging in his chest much to his niece's annoyance. The simple farmer that was once the head of House Sheathe had been weeping since the start of the funeral and until the late emperor's coffin was lowered into its final resting place. The middle-aged man inaudibly murmured his final parting words and wishes for the emperor he had always looked up to. Perhaps this was the end of an era for Ursa Madeum but what he was more concerned at the moment was his niece's incessant tugging at his shirt's sleeves. Folio tore his eyes away from the Emperor's grave and turned to his niece, the horribly-burnt woman sitting uncomfortably on a wheelchair. "Uncle, let's go," her niece pleaded. Despite her appearance and demeanor, Folio knew that her niece was worried about his well-being. He was no longer the young man he once was and even the simple act of mourning is a great burden on his already weakening heart. Nodding his assent, Folio followed his niece into the drawing room. Inside, Folio helped himself to a cup of tea before sitting down. He would have asked a cup of coffee for her niece as well, but he's afraid the poor thing would get mad for being treated as a helpless individual. The aging man silently sipped his tea while waiting for his niece to return.

Throughout the procession, Raveena stood stoic and watching—only the brilliant gleam of her golden eyes giving signs of the emotion she felt. Death was something she was intimately familiar with—the likes of wish she never wanted upon anyone else—save one. She wore a simple black dress, one that accentuated the gentle bump of her pregnant belly. A sweeping, black chiffon cape draped along her shoulders and would dance ethereally behind her wherever she walked. Will you lead him, sister? Raveena asked wordlessly, her eyes never leaving Titus’ coffin. She could remember their first encounter. She understood his ideals and the cog-like part she played between empires to help bring peace from all sides as an ambassador. At her right side was a tall, ethereal beauty—truly, too beautiful for the mortal eye to behold. Copper skinned and flawless with luxurious dark hair that swept to the floor, Char looked down at the young ruler with haunting eyes that were dark grey, with veins of brilliant ichor and godly might. Wordless, the goddess turned from Raveena and faded away. There was a lingering sense of relief as the goddess of crossroads and peace walked along the road that guided the dead to their final resting place. Char was many things to many religions and many people. She entrusted her sister to allow Titus his peace. The Empress leaned against her son’s shoulder, tired and weary—weary of death. “Remind me,” She murmured to Grant as the procession made their way inside, “To gift these pearls to Her Imperial Majesty.” Clutched in her hands was a velvet lined case with a small token of her heartfelt sincerity towards their loss. She thought back to nearly losing Rowan and shuddered. “And I’d like to visit the gardens again before we go. Your brother likes the fresh air.” It was something pretty to take the edge off the solemn gathering. Death was a difficult moment to process, to recuperate from—this she knew first hand. She thanked the gods her family was alive—if barely. @danzilla3

As soon as the black smoke began to pour from her and even expand in his general direction, the Heika lifted his draconic hand in a closed fist. This was the non-verbal command he gave to tell his companions not to interfere. Despite just how dangerous the Kitsune was, especially in a bubble of her influence, Koji allowed her to trap him there with her. As she harbored no fear, neither did he. Even with the upper hand out of his favor, he always held confidence in his ability to survive. The Void failed to swallow him up, in which nothing could compare to the things he'd endured there. Not even the Lady of the Void herself. As the lurid plume devoured them, his eyes remained trained on the Daiyokai as they became secluded away from the world for an eternity. Once they were alone, he pondered just how willing she'd be to believe him, or perhaps she'd wondered herself yet denied the possible reality of it all. "Speak. None will hear the knowledge you impart on This One." "One year ago on this day, great tragedy befell you at the hands of your daughter." If she recalled the finer details of that day, the most he'd done to her personally was undress her; In hindsight he'd also slapped her. The rest of the matter fell directly onto her daughter, from stealing her orb, to forcing her into suicide. Koji supported all of this, though it was her hand that played every roll in Akako's demise. Curious still though, how ever did Kimi managed to take her mother's orb? "While I am painted the culprit, You know deep down inside I had little to do with it beyond threatening and belittling you. With Kimi now deceased, I come here today not to kill you again, but rather to affect you in a manner that hopefully helps to preserve your life in the future. You see, your folly upon myself, upon Kimi, are no different than the folly placed unto by your precious human." Singular, one. "I have no proof to afford you other than the results of your evening this day last year. Likewise, I never asked Kimi, nor did she ever tell. However, one sure thing she managed to do was steal your orb, while it was to be under the protection and supervision of the one whom was then closest to you. The one you shared your Yoki with. The very one you jump up to save every time she is in trouble....I can't help but wonder, how is it that Kimi managed to fool her? The easy answer is that, she didn't." If it wasn't yet clear to her what he was getting at, it would be momentarily. Try as she might, she'd find no lies delivered from him. She would be left to speculate whether he'd learned how to lie to her undetected which was nigh impossible, or he was telling the truth. "Red didn't lift a finger to stop your orb from being taken, yet she was capable of such was she not? The one entrusted to protect your orb." While Koji hadn't been aware of such, even Xartia pondered this fact on his own. In fact it's why his duplicate was so eager to hold the orb for himself once they saved her, to be sure it didn't happen again. "When you were distressed, she could have felt you. She could have come for you, saved you. Instead it wasn't until it was practically too late that she went above and beyond to revive you. Perhaps she was driven by a guilty conscience? As much as I'd like to make Xartia look bad in this revelation, I begrudgingly admit that he couldn't have made the difference even if the two of you hadn't have been arguing. Still, it made things more convenient for your sudden departure." He paused briefly to let it all really sink in and hit home before finding his precise conclusion. "With Kimi no longer being with us, and with her having fulfilled her vengeance on you beforehand, I'd like to reassure that I no longer have an interest in harming you. I don't know that'll you'll take it for what it is here and now, but I wanted to issue a warning of your trust as a gift, along with my forgiveness. I forgive you." Still his face and posture remained unmoved other than the previous signal he'd given his people to remain idle. Still no lies to be detected by the Daiyokai. Never would he ever apologize to her, though he managed to see reason enough in her ultimate failure of a demise that he could in fact forgive her. After all, to this day he'd dare to think that her own blood and viscera played a heavy role in the conception of his Heir. It stood to say that Red played no part in Akako's demise, though she played no part in stopping it either. Whether she was implausibly tricked by his late Empress, or decided to be distracted enough to miss such a grandiose happening, she failed to aid the one that had saved her so many times. To Koji, there was hardly a reasonable excuse as to why Red couldn't have at least tried to prevent what had happened. Especially having been so close both physically and intimately. He'd even wager that if Xartia were in Red's position, he'd have noticed such a grand breach in security over an ancient being's life source. @Akako Akari @dvsn @Aleksei @Etched In Stone @Dreamer @danzilla3 @Chappu

Red blood splattered on Fidelitas' s armor and the child-bird tumbled into the abyss, a look of hurt and confusion on her face that followed the knight until she was swallowed up by the fog. The giggles from the fog turned into gasps. "They... they hurt Kesha!" "Why would you do that!" "You killed her!" "It was a joke!" "She LIKED you, you bastard!" "I HATE YOU! YOU KILLED HER! I HATE YOU!" Shapes flew out of the fog; five, ten, twelve winged children, as varied in appearance as an eighth-grade classroom, each face a unique mix of fiery rage and deep sadness. A redhead with tears flowing freely down her cheeks dove close to Fidelitas and let out an anguished wail inches from his ear, loud enough to make the world spin spin around him. Meanwhile, two blondes, their wings spread wide, swooped at Murray; the wind from their passing was forceful and lopsided, threatening to knock him off his balance. Three others spied Dan floating serenely over the bridge; they shouted challenges at him as they charged, their talons glinting like knives in the hot sun and murderous intent flaring in their eyes; in just a second, they'd be upon him. The other five went high before closing their wings and rocketing past the bridge, aiming at the troops still clustered on the plateau, crying and cursing and heedless of the danger to themselves as they set out to swarm the closely-gathered invaders, packed in so tightly that it would be impossible to fail to draw blood once they arrived. More flapping and shouted declarations of hate and grief could be heard from inside the fog; their true numbers would be impossible to accurately determine. Stats: ACTIONS:

"Name the day, and we shall go. I am sure Kaori would love to have your company as well." Ozu and Kaori have yet to meet, to the surprise of no one. Kaori has occupied herself with other things, such as chasing kittens, eating grapes, being greedy and indulgent with her father's company, and avoiding her lectures. A small toddler in all ways, the little girl preferred to enjoy rainbows and pick wildflowers, then learn how to hold a weapon or dip into the histories of the world she has been born into. For Celine, it had been a learning process, for where she comes from the minute she was able to recite her name was when she had languages and histories shoved down her throat. Allowing Kaori to learn at her own pace is a complete breath of fresh air. "You two can enjoy the manabai'wok; perhaps you can tame one? I hear the process of being bound to one can be ... painful, but fruitful." The last bit was pointed towards the mysterious swordsman with pale hair. Yes, her eyes seem to say, it is me. The two have a history, something that she may be able to exploit later if the time so calls for such devious acts. There is little she knows about Remmington and the man coveting the Emporer and Ozu. It is just enough that it could drive him crazy - now, what a fun game that would be. Pocketing the thought for later, she returns to looking at the general festivities. Before her, she felt the mood of the Empress. It is far easier to rule when not constrained by public opinion. Celine is the chosen favorite to stand by the Emporer's side, favored by the opinion of the masses and a few within the harem. Thankfully, Koji had picked a woman that was far better suited to be the one to help rule his land, raise his Empire so that it touched the sun and shadowed all the rest. The Concubine is not that woman, not when she has individual freedoms that require a certain amount of finesse and secrecy an Empress is unfortunately stripped of. For now, she keeps to her place behind the two with comfortable dignity. Katiya has the weight of many things on her shoulders, and at the very least, Celine can show the woman she has not made an enemy out of the Concubine. Bound by resolute reason and some mangled form of love, Celine will always do her best to protect those she's sworn her life to. "Is it commonplace for a gentleman to want the heads of others? If I may ask, what does one do with the heads - paperweight, formal decoration?" Ears are continually seeking out conversation, especially if it one that requires a woman's touch. A large crowd has gathered around her Emporer and Empress, something she dislikes but can judge little when a majority of them have shown they mean no harm - yet. The very word left a sour taste on her tongue, keeping her more aware that there are dangers here that could cause issues, and she would rather not have to step on any toes. Having just arrived, taking heads felt a tad rude. As they are dipped in shadow, a small ball of heat settled at the base of her neck, causing her to look over her shoulder suddenly. The influence of power was indescribable, but she could feel the heaviness of magic being snuffed out. It is his influence; luckily, it is not him, just someone kissed by his blessing. That thought made her return to the procession and caused her to sweep her fingers across the small rise in her abdomen. Omens, how fickle they can be. @Twitterpated @dvsn @Etched in Stone @Chappu @Dreamer

THE END . . . for now @jaistlyn @SweetCyanide @vielle @Wade Thank you for participating in “What do you know?” This thread is the second in a series of threads resulting from the Elendaron Spiritual Death event, but also serves as a prelude to one of OBELUS’ main storylines. This thread ran much longer than planned and had awkward pacing at certain points, partly due to miscalculations on the end of the Storyteller. For this, OBELUS apologizes. Despite this, OBELUS hopes you enjoyed the experience and hopes you four will be participating in its future events. FEEDBACK OBELUS would appreciate any feedback on the thread, particularly on the following aspects: Storytelling / Gamemaster Combat system Plot pacing OOC interactive elements After answering, please post in the dice rolling thread. The D6 roll result will be the number of questions you may ask OBELUS regarding the plot, background, characters, and lore of the thread. OBELUS guarantees clear answers on these questions as long as they pertain to the the thread. No cryptic snark this time. Send both feedback and questions as a personal message. You may choose whether or not to share the information you gain. IC REWARDS Your characters retain the items they gained in the thread and use them in other roleplay. These have the power of canon items. GRIGORI Selective stick - a stick capable of phasing through non-organic material. Can be sharpened into a spear and used to pierce armor. Living ceramic cube - a ceramic cube obedient to Grigori and capable of warping space within fifty feet of it. May occasionally dispense grocery store items. ALETHEA Glass water - amorphous glass, capable of transforming into any object with the equivalent mass. However, this retains the durability of regular glass and may lose its form when used with excessive force. SETSUKO Under-Thing leg - best used as a club; upon impact with ground, can send a shockwave that liquefies any surface for a few seconds. Under-Thing tooth - best used as a dagger, easily broken, yet can sever any organic matter. STATISTICS ENEMIES: 4/6 encountered Under-Thing - Heavily inspired by the Vechynacht Under-Thing Bloat Elves - Elves with extremely mutated bodies, a subversion of the graceful, beautiful, agile elf tropes. They are sentient, painfully aware of their ugliness, and vomit constantly in an attempt to remove the extra mass from themselves. Leakers - Subversions of vampires; invisible creatures that force other creatures to drink their blood Wendigo - Heavily inspired by the Vechynacht Wendigo. 173s - Strange shambling shadows each with a single burning white eye. Glass Faeries - Gigantic glass-winged humanoids that require sound to move. They induce pain in order to feed off screams. ITEMS: 5/14 obtained Selective stick - obtained Glass water - obtained Bloat Elf head - spews stream of vomit from an unknown source whenever the mouth is opened. Under-thing tooth - obtained Under-thing leg - obtained Living store tongue - made of a strangely coarse carpet, prehensile, 10 feet long Living store uvula - required item to control the living store tongue Living store fang - regular shard of broken glass Living tile - obtained Leaker fang - can shoot corrosive Leaker blood. Glass faerie wing - suitable as a dagger. paralyzes those in contact with it. 173 eye - an orb that projects a very, very bright light. Wendigo antler - suitable as a club. Slowly emanciates those it hits Quetzalcoatl snakeskin - has scrying/interdimensional viewing properties. Can be turned into a mask that allows one to see between dimensions.

Summer vacation has officially begun. Csl is a free elf ; - ;

"Hey …! Isn't that!" Immersed in the crowd bumping shoulders with others, head bowed, hurrying to the center of the festival. He had no time to waste; it was much too luxurious and expensive, therefore, Soap MacTavish did everything in his power to remain unnoticed. The hard work seemed wasted, funneling down the toilet like human feces with three spoken words and he knew he had been noticed. "Shit!" A decision needed to be made. And quickly. He focused on the three individuals deep in their cups, cheeks flushed in excitement, and veered off into the crowd and out of their line of sight. Instincts, forged and tempered on the battlefield galvanized Soap to perceive the circumstances as threatening to his livelihood, although misunderstanding could have tempted the choice. Within seconds he appeared beside the three men from their blind side, fingers outstretched, etching in the air before slamming the pointer finger on their forehead where the Ajna chakra was located. "Erase." The Final Rune activated on impact and surged powerfully for mere moment's, feeding on the environment and mental chakra of each men. Then it died, blinking out of existence from their forehead with their memories of seeing him. Satisfied, he turned and continued his journey deeper into the festivals center in search of old allies.

A few miles out from the Port city, he was standing, the Mugen-me opened wide with it's preternatural gaze upon the swell of activity found within the city limits. Even from here he watched the moment he had been waiting for, the inevitable reveal of the the Regent herself. The Yokai Queen. This day, this festival, this bitch, they were all a reminder of a beginning for tragic ending of a chapter in his life. Still, he relished in the fact that he kept his word. He swore vengeance on Akako for her transgressions against him and his beloved, in which he delivered in full with his late Empress still alive to see it for herself. The fact that the Daiyokai was well and alive now did nothing to undue the twisted past that was her demise. While the body may now live on, that ego that was Akako was no more. They made sure of that. Out of three, the vertical eye just above the center most point of his brow-line was the only one open. It's duel pupils joined in a vertical infinity shape. The several means of sight provided by it's greatness allowed him to examine the on goings from afar, and through most obstruction. What he could now hear, he could potentially see, especially as far as lip reading might be concerned. Though this was not his intent, to spy. No, the moment he was certain that Akako and Xartia were present, he had seen all he needed to. The fact that the young Prince accompanied them was no more than a compliment to his already choice happenings. Even better, they were all close together. Slowly, the Mugen-me closed, ultimately sealing itself once more into a simple red sigil in it's place. "The time of our arrival nears." He spoke to no one in particular, simply stating it for them all to hear. It went without saying that if there were any last minute preparations any of them would like to make, and comments or questions of concern, this was their last chance. his hands left the comfort of each other's opposing sleeves as his arms came to naturally hang at his side. The fabrics of his robes moved with him, creating the illusion that he was perhaps levitating just and inch or two off of the ground. He turned to face his comrades, his narrowed indigo eyes gaining a bit of a scarlet hue to them. His reptilian slits for pupils dilated ever so slightly, thinning to the likeness of a single strand of hair before expanding once more. His otherwise emotionless face hosting his half lidded eyes did little to share his thoughts and memories with his companions. Perhaps Celine caught the most subtle slip of his mask when he faced them. Those in his company had no idea the history the Emperor shared with the ilk of this nation, save for those whom had lived in the comfort of Koji's harem. Even than, not all of them knew, though the closest wives to him knew nearly as much as the current Empress, and the one before her. Still, his greatest views and ambitions had been reserved for just that title, his Empress. Eventually more would be brought into the fold, likely first those within the Omagatoki, the knowledge would come about inevitably, whether by word of mouth of outright action. Until then, Koji continued to uphold his righteous facade of unification, and proceeded to deliver a personal reminder to those he'd sworn his life against that he was still here, still growing, and still coming in due time. Just as his ambitions, he was inevitable. His knots having already been secured within the Red String. "While we are not outright enemies of the nation, we are far from allies of it." @dvsn @Aleksei @Etched in Stone @Chappu@Dreamer