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Djinn&Juice last won the day on January 16 2018

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About Djinn&Juice

  • Rank
    Roleplay Wizard
  • Birthday 11/14/1995

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    Intergalactic House of Pancakes
  • Interests
    Writing, Raman, Cajun Bull Fighting On High Hrothgar, Chilling out, maxin, relaxin all cool (And all shootin some B Ball outside of the schoo)
  • Occupation
    Dishwasher (Or Plate Pimp)

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  1. These places always possessed more disease than he ever did, no matter how high his temperature rose and how acrid his stomach churned...societies and it's vermin spread plagues worse than any one man could. Pathogen watching the crowds talk, laugh, and congregate with mirth and reverence; his virulent eyes of postulating Subconjunctival hemorrhage the only visible feature under his ratty hood. He did his best to look as unassuming as possible; This was one of the few places in Sigil he wasn't banned. He couldn't blame their fear of sickness and disease, but did they bother to ask him if he was okay? to seek him aid? No...they merely shouted for him to leave and threatened to have him burned out like the black death. He was envious in a way...to live so freely where disease was an inconvenience, and not a way of life. A rattling cough slipping through his hood and causing an unfortunate odor to became present around him. Why did new symptoms have to develop at the most inconvenient times? Sigil and it's people creating terrified stories and unscrupulous rumors over the figure they had tried to remove from town, and as his cough caused him to double over there were several patrons who immediately became suspicious. Pathogen immediately trying to evacuate as he felt his bowels begin to tear him apart, but A suspicious hand pulled him back by his hood and revealed his mop of bleached hair; skin black and cracked with disease. "I-Its him! He's trying ta spread his sick!" This didn't bode well at all. It wasn't the first time he had received a beating. The sound of screams and shouts heard as the many started to panic. Had he caused that much of a scene? His blooded gaze flicking from the horrified faces before him toward the dispersing of crwods around what appeared to be a woman over...was that a body? His confusion left unanswered as a kick to his ribs sent him shattering against the bar-side. A spew of black ichor immediately erupting from his mouth as his ill stomach reacted to the injury. the man immediately regretting his violent actions as he was coated in this horror; many now screaming and running from Pathogen as two sources of disaster had unexpectedly arisen. Pathogen wiping his lips and beginning to scan for an exit. He had to get out of here before they further tried to end him, doing his best to weave through the crowds and adorned his hood once more. they were going to blame him somehow for these strange deaths if he didn't retreat soon. That kick had upset his stomach terribly as another cough wracked his body, causing him to double over on the floor next to the very woman who had orchestrated the deaths of the men before them; black ichor spattering from his maw; his vision swaying as he did his best to reconstitute himself; His eternal sickness working against him as his skin started dissolved his cloak and revealed The Pathogen "They'll blame me...have to...escape" Blonde heard him croak @Dredge
  2. The thrum of the facility continued to drone in Marigold's absence; His slumber leaving the facility to continue bustling in silent chaos. It was if the facility was far more alive when The Doctor was awake. Had this entity breathed life into the facility somehow? The Imperium' stewards seemed to possess some sort of programmed 'life'. The droid Petrichor' question's were directed toward was a construction-class equipped with some sort of rivet gun that he was firing into an interior panel. the droid painted in a stoic green with a orange strip across his large singular eye that refracted a soft orange 'iris'; halting it's work as Petrichor approached it. //GrEEEtttiings! I-I Ammm Ch3st3r// The droid greeted with A more animated gait than she likely had expected, I His head twitching as he stuttered through his automated words. //Thank y-O-you for T-He Pat. It w-as WA at optimal capaaac-cicity ❤️// He said with a warmth that she could almost feel. An image of anatomically incorrect depiction of a heart lighting up his ocular lens as his antennae swayed eagerly. //Weeee we-were just d-discussing OuOr ex-ex-ciiiitment-ent about the-he newwwew PROject// He said, seeming to not mind discussing such things openly as many of the droids did. How far did their mechanical servitude go? //X-Xerxes D-D3servess It-TTT// He continued as he then patted her on the head with surprising joy, bouncing a few times afterwards //T-TheeeEEe Song Reminds..U-UsS of who Wee W-re-ere and-And of who wee A-Areeee// He said, humming a portion of the song himself and inspiring more work to be done as he immediately swung around and went back to work //NiiicE meEeting yououu RaaaInnNN SmellLL// A slow rumble ringing through the facility as once again their voices picked up the song they seemed to be tied to in some way; It an undeniable force to them as immediately the droids orchestrated new additions to the basement and created an entirely new hall in mere minutes. Petrichor being left with more questions unanswered, but at least Marigold would be out for quite some time so she could pursue more leads. Xerxes a name she hadn't heard before, but it appeared the droids knew it well and was somehow connected to this new project of Marigold's. How did all this connect with the eldritch force around them? Eldritch makes me feel like a squid! Do I look like a squid to you? It's wrong anyways, I'm not evil, sinister, or ghostly! I am SO much more~ It's maddening isn't it? The Mystery? A mystery you've been hunting long before dearest me HahaHA!
  3. The blizzard continued to rattle the window panes of the bestiary; Sinclair looking into the infinite white and praying for Archen's safe return. Her gaze shifting toward the locket and then to Fain as he gave her an air of caution that came with his generous gift. The monk nodding with understanding as she took hold of the enchanted jewelry "I will use it wisely; I know when he is working...he mustn't have any distractions." She said, understanding how dangerous his work was. Her worried expression melting away into a nebulous brightness across her dark skinned face "Of course you can stay here sire! The Bestiary acts as a sanctuary against those who would seek us harm, and unfortunately only those in grave danger come seeking my Master's help...It is why I am here. I make sure all our clients and guests are safe and warm" She said, guiding him to a chair next to the fire and attempting to heat his icy cheeks "I shall make us some more tea, and to pass the time perhaps you can tell me where you are from! I do love hearing stories of cities I have never been to" Sinclair could never cease the worry she had for Archen, but it did no good to dwell on it and instead wanted to get to know this mysterious man who seemed to have known her master before. There were few of his old friends that didn't want him dead. Extreme climates were some of the hardest training regimes he had ever experienced when the master before him tempered him with bouts of flame, ice, and crushing earth. Those that surpassed the capacity most mortals had found lairs and domiciles in extreme climate; It was an obstacle he had been trained to endure. The Hunter managing through the endless slow with a careful pace that kept from collapsing into any unseen dangers; Archen shutting his nostrils closed as he amplified his vision, piercing through the maelstrom with intensity. He knew he wouldn't be to smell any scent based dangers, but sight was far more important in this torrential weather. His boot colliding with an unknown form; shoveling some snow out of the way revealing it to be...a corpse. Archen kneeling next to it and scanning it over four or five times, drinking in every detail he could. The smile indicating he did not fear an impending doom...focused on something more. An ethereal voice seeming to bring the snow alive as it sung to Archen, leaving him motionless through it's duration. It was an enchanting voice...one that would be neigh impossible to deny. This man must have followed this song to his death, entranced by it and unabashed by the frigid horror consuming him. Archen was beginning to feel this was a truly hostile entity despite it's enrapturing song, but...it had to be captured if he were to see one of his pieces again. Archen marching forward once more as he climbed higher. His skin being pelted and stung though his cloak, but he grit his teeth and pushed through. That fire that had been snuffed out for so long beginning to roar through him like a hungry furnace. He forgot how much he actually enjoyed it. The Hunt He found another corpse frozen to the mountain; stuck in a climb he would never finish. He remembered the wrath he once felt for the countless lives lost to deceit, villainy, and vile instinct...he remembered how consuming that wrath was. He hated them all...every creature that dared threaten mortal lives. That hatred had brought him to ruin, and he would not drink in it's self destruction again. All he felt now was determination; he would save those he could, and avenge those he could not...whether that was through elimination or capture it only mattered that the danger was secure. Archen digging his claws into the ice caked walls of the mountain and climbed upwards, ascending at a slow and careful pace. The storm was getting worse still; It was close. What was his plan going to be? If this mirrored a siren's method of luring souls into it's trap then that potentially means it is defenseless against a trained melee fighter, but if it has wraith qualities...melee is severely dangerous. Could he even try diplomacy? If that was really it's voice then that must mean it has some form of conscience somewhere...even fragmented. What did those lyrics mean? Does freezing to death here imply it is giving those it lures a 'home'? There must be a chance they could be freed then. Dozens of questions and planning routes manifesting in his mind as he ascended the perilous mountain, wind crashing him into the walls and causing him to nearly lose his grip several times before having to stop in a small alcove carved into the side. He needed a breather; it had been some time since he had done anything this strenuous.
  4. The topic of souls shards was an already raw subject for the forlorn hunter, but these details were too important to shy away from. These fragments sounding like compartmentalized emotions and memories of their owners; That would make diplomacy difficult if it was incapable of understanding reason. The mention of the weather once more stirring the hazed memories of the past few days. Sinclair complaining of her perilous trips toward the town, and how the snowfall seeming 'angrier'. He silently cursed himself for missing the signs of an abnormal storm; he had trained his senses painstakingly to notice even the smallest changes in his environment, but he had been too drunk to notice. Archen furrowing his brow as Fain warned him of the dangers that came with merging his soul with a foreign shard. Was it truly that dangerous? He had slain succubi, and sirens without falling prey to their seductions...but he didn't know how long he could suffer this emptiness that gnawed eternally. His distant gaze flicking toward Fain's movement and eyeing the parapet that Fain presented. A phylactery designed for soul capture; he hadn't seen one so well made before Archen taking the enchanted jewelry from fain and tucking it into his cloak safely "Ill follow it's call and ensure it's capture. Stay here as long as you need; Sinclair will care for your needs. The worse this storm gets, the harder it'll be to track so I best be going" He said with an affirmative nod, and retracted his Axe to a handheld size, strapping it to his hip. Fain seeing a fire that had all but been extinguished broil and burn within him once more. He wanted to believe that it was to be whole again, or at least more than he was now...but he realized that he was thrilled to hunt again. It had been quite some time since he had fought anything strong enough that would decorate his cabin. His eyes panning toward the skull of a particularly dangerous werewolf named JagMaw. What...had happened to this once feared and respected Spook? He had lost that fire he held so viciously long ago It seemed only apathy and guilt remained Archen calling Sinclair who immediately sprang forth from the hall and attempted a hopeful smile "Yes, Master Archen? Are you going out? Has Mister Fain provided A contract??" She asked hopefully. She knew his work was dangerous, and that worried her...but him being here in his current state was even more dangerous that terrified her. Archen looking at her with an inscrutable expression "You are correct. It seems that the torrential weather isn't just bad luck. I will return as soon as I can, Stay indoors until I return." Their eyes locking for several moments and he could easily see the entirety of her being laid out in apprehension and worry, even after putting her through his melodrama...she still brightened the room more than any candle. it would have been endearing...if it wasn't so sad. Archen unable to keep her gaze and instead shifting toward the door, pulling it open and stepping through the frigid threshold.
  5. A war had been raging in Archen ever-since he had nearly been killed by The Waltz'. The incorruptible duty of his station...and the irrefutable blow this mistake had made on his very soul. His guilt and misery eventually crushing him into the mountain hermit Fain was interacting with now...but Fain could see that his words were weaving a spell of some sort of career necromancy as his expression hardened at the mention of The Black Cathedral; listening to the details with a growing fire that licked at his bones. Fain's perceptive capacity catching the slow creak of a distant door in the hallway, A curious Sinclair listening in. Archen maintaining the frigid gaze Fain always adorned; It was an exceptional tool to see through all who dared to hide themselves from his pertinent interests. Archen couldn't help but think he would have made an excellent Spook. The moment Velvet's name came up Fain could see surprise splashing across his face like freezing water. Was he being serious? If he had been anyone else he would thrown them out for heinous lies...but Fain was not one to lie. Archen couldn't believe it. Fain's ending statements swirling with a icy wind that willed Archen to stand, swiftly and without sway. His eyes locked upon the weapon that acted as the badge of his station. His Axe hanging above the mantle like a grim reminder of A past long lost. His eyes never leaving the axe as he spoke with a lucid terseness "If this is A deal that will claim me what I forfeited, even a fraction of what I foolishly gave away...then I accept...The cold nights compare not to the coldness my mistakes have left within" He said, moving forward and taking the Axe from it's hooks and immediately feeling that gnaw fade to experience he had shared with his weapon "Zillawog and I have faced much in the past, but I have not heard of a soul 'fragment' animating itself. Do we know the fragment's soul origin? Who did they belong to? Name's hold power over the realms of demons and the dead. If the dissapearances are connected to these fragments that means they have some capacity of corporeal control over the enthronements around it. Do you know what they look like? Were they ethereal when they escaped or are they capable of possession as a wraith does?" He asked, immediately beginning to rifle through several chests and drawers, taking tonics, potions, and other strange materials that Fain figured was specific to dealing with the undead. A trigger being released as he felt the ravenous fires of the hunt mingle with the drive to reunite with his soul piece.
  6. Marigold could see the whole of the universe from his paltry position in the sea of fleeting lives tethering themselves to this desolate and impossible planet, and it made him wonder: Does she sleep in pajamas? The Doctor throwing his chair across the room in absolute and finite rage; He was tired of his thoughts not being your own? Well perhaps your thoughts should learn sign language! His head swiveling toward her with a exasperated sallow "It is was a curse my father left me with my dear; I was just being a fool and tried to run from it" He said with a shake of his head "You are quite interested in my situation. I assume the robots weren't the only curiosity you saw. Some visions I imagine? It appears I don't have very good control over the situation. It must e the grief...or the sleep. Perhaps you're right" He muttered. The Doctor stretching his limbs and rolling his shoulders, realizing just how tired he was. "Hold out your hand if you would" He said, an exhausted exasperation framing his gaunt expression; attaching A metallic bracelet on her wrist. It's clasp vanishing into the metal itself. "This will track your movements across the facility and send them directly to mine" He said, holding up a similar bracelet with a half cocked grin. He was proud of this little countermeasure to distrusting guest "We will have a proper discussion when i'm not so...Silly" He said with a snort and a guffaw; waving her farewell as he left to his quarters. "Use caution when asking questions with answers that change you forever...to know what lies beyond our mortal coils...it is irreversible...The Imperium has become more...lively in the night as of late" Marigold said, vanishing around a corner. Petrichor being left alone in the low lighted recesses of the garage, droids continuing to lift containers and finish the final construction. The Doctor leaving her to explore his facility while he slept with only A bracelet. She could hear a few of the droids actually talking to themselves as they worked. All the weight and pressure of that eldritch presence seeming to go with Marigold. It seemed that she was free to explore; the lower floors a mesh of hallways and tight rooms dedicated to maintenance and upkeep. A few doors possessing some sort of scan to enter through and one possessing a thick heavy blast door without markings. The adults are away, and the mad god can play~
  7. Iscariate had quite literally bitten off more than he could chew as the claws wedged in his maw liquefied and poured down his mighty throat and was beginning to destroy him from the inside. Iscariate slamming into the pool of blood surrounding them as he fought against the tearing of his body. He was furious, not for being outwitted...but because he was losing to a man who wasn't in control. Iscariate' eyes burning like the fires of hell as he remembered being nothing more than a gladiator; fighting for his life. He didn't have control then either. The vampire couldn't call Nica out but...He and his puppeteer could feel the building energy surrounding their opponent. "FIGHT-FOR-YOUR-FREEDOM LIKE I DID" He bellowed around his choking maw; eyes being consumed in hellfire as the pool around them erupted. The blood surrounding them began to shift and quake as it started to build up around Iscariate; crawling up his legs and forming across his entire body in a lattice of crimson that hardened into armored plates across his body, covering his face in a helm that echoed his roars of overwhelming rage. Every drop of viscera that had spattered upon the arena's floor had been entirely soaked up into Iscariate's form. His Gauntlet swirling with blood that boiled and hissed at it merged with the relic, Iscariate still feeling the ink in his system as it inhibited his movements, but this wouldn't stop him. His eyes now obscured underneath a red lit visor as he now stood to face Nica. His roar silenced as his rage consolidated into The Bloodlust that now strengthened him[1] Iscariate beginning to move with the acceleration of a freight train; his boots carving into the ground and flinging him forward at Nica. His Gauntlet hurling downward and smashing into the ground with an eruption of dirt and stone. Spires of hardened vitae cascading from the cratering earth beneath Nica and threatening to skewer his suspended form with a blossom of jagged red spears seeking to invade every inch of space they could; shrieking against the roof and piercing through the floor above[2]. He was determined to see this man's extent and he would give his all to break through his inked imprisonment. Iscariate beginning to climb the crThiystalline mountain towards Nica with seething intent. "A victory means nothing if you don't show YOUR HEART" He barked through the glowing visor of his helmet.
  8. There wasn't much reaction from the slumped figure; his stark blue gaze once piercing with endless potential had dulled into a blue grey that watched the crackling fire with indignation. There was a part of him that wanted to respond to Fain, to greet him far kinder...but it had been swallowed up. Everything had been swallowed up these days. "There isn't much work for me these days" He said with hollow remorse. The world had become saturated with heroes and glory seekers. The supernatural horrors and forces that had once caused droves of people to claw at his door were now being handled by a vast surge of might and magic. Archen leaning down and pulling a small flask from his tunic as their eyes met. Fain's dull gaze of potency matched with eyes he had once seen as intense and willful...could no longer meet his gaze now."I have had other things on my mind...The weathers as bad as it's always been... The Spook knocking back his flask "Sinclair said it was worsening a few days ago, but...I haven't noticed." He said. Fain catching a quirk in his feathered ears at the mention of disappearances. Sinclair bringing Fain a rustic teacup with a fragrant smell of morning dew wafting off it's dull green surface "It was made with Jee-Rai. A flower that grows here in the cold. May it bring you stability in these unstable times" She said with another bow The priestess taking a few logs and adding to the fire, lifting Archen's feet up and making sure he was comfortable; his eyes lost in the embers of the fireplace. "Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked, hoping to see any change in his mood...his eyes turning to hers for a moment before shaking his head and nursing his flask "No" was all he muttered. Sinclair giving a melancholy nod before returning to her chores. Archen actually standing up at the mention of awakened soul shards "What are you talking about? How do these soul shards have anything to do with this storm and the missing citizens? Am...Am I the cause?" He asked; how could he not connect this to the very soul 'pieces' he gave away for power? What else could these soul shards be?
  9. The mountains near Itzal were like icy fingers jutting from the earth and bringing nothing but freezing winds and crippling maelstroms of snow. The Bestiary had once brought hopeful monster hunters in search of training and desperate villagers seeking relief trudging through the knee high snow, but now it was all but isolated. Most didn;t come up here anymore and even fewer believed that The Bestiary was still there. The people of Itzal believed that it's owner had either died, moved away, or retired. Fain wasn't so easily swayed in his quest to hunt Archen down; having only met the monster hunter once before on A previous investigation. There paths only crossing once before, but it was all that the young detective needed to remember the faces of all the people he encountered. Archen a scentless hybrid impossible to track due to his training and unnatural gifts, but Fain's deduction skills were A league of their own. His search for Archen taking him across the vast forests of Terrenus, and the harrowing Orisian kingdoms before eventually catching wind of Archen in Arkadia. There was talk of 'The Bestiary' and a hunter who has vanished for A year. It had to be what he was looking for...and so he had made his way up through the shivering mountains and happened upon a snowed in building underneath a vast precipice of ice. A single dimly lit lamp marking the entrance. His knock was immediately answered; the door swinging open and causing steam to cascade across the threshold. Fain feeling the warmth of the interior cascade across his face. That heat however, paled in comparison to the warmth of the smile that greeted him now. A woman in earthy brown and green robes bowing to him in greeting; Two thick braided chords of black hair brushing the ground before she rose "Nameste. I am always charmed when we get new visitors! It has been a month since Master Belmont has had any clients! He will be so pleased; Come in quick! You must be freezing" Her caramel hands immediately pulling him in and closing the door behind them; her smile bright against her dark skin, brown eyes meeting his warmly as she immediately sat him in front of the fireplace. "Stay here and warm up please. I will fetch you my master and something to warm you up" She said kindly before leaving him to his devices for the time being. How do I tell you my plight? If only I could give you my sight A year has passed us by with nothing for me to show I feel as though im just floating idly as the wind blows I failed my father over arrogance and pride A phrase he always told me was never good enough...I tried I want to believe that your the one worth fighting for but I don't even have the courage to send these letters to your door Archen looked over his letter and sighed through his nose, taking another swig from the tall dark bottle on his desk. He sealed it up and marked it with his signature before lifting himself up and shoveling it into a chest with several more of these similar envelopes. He still felt that gnawing, every damn day, that gnawing. How could he ever face her if he wasn't even A whole Archen anymore? Sinclair giving a knock at the door and with his behest, entered. Her eyes always possessed a worried melancholy everytime they looked upon him. There was a part of him that was agitated and felt as though it were pity...yet pity was not something she felt towards anything in pain...no this was...sorrow. Archen tipping backwards a bit before catching himself with a solid foot. Sinclair giving a hopeful smile against the crippling darkness Archen kept himself in "Sir, we have a potential client! He is waiting in the den to meet you" she said, watching him sigh with exasperation and nodding...looking at his clawed hands with distance. She hated seeing him like this, but she could only hope that with time...he would see past these dark times. Archen remained quiet as he moved out into the hall, catching himself a few times as he stumbled into the Den. Fain could easily smell the booze off of him as he collapsed into the chair next to Fain, leaning his head back as he looked up at the ceiling. "Been...some time Fain. What do you want?" He asked, his voice sluggish and terse. Fain seeing that he was adorned in a A simple black tunic with gray breeches. His discerning eye catching a new tattoo on his adam's apple. A jagged key of some sort. It wasn't hard for an inquisitive creature of Fain's capability to know that this was the aftermath of the terrible deal Archen had made. It looked as though it costed him more than just pieces of his soul.
  10. Vashka' ghoulish grin creased across his tortured skin as The Doctor graced him with his infallible wisdom. There wasn't time to waste on what he had lost, and instead needed to assist in maintaining their futures. Mara grating his patience with her authority, but Engle trusted her and thus Vashka would aswell. It was a shame he couldn't concoct something to entertain his hosts, but questioning the likes of Mara only ended in disaster and death. Her eyes spoke volumes...he would have to get creative if he was going to have a chance out of this His movements becoming lower to the ground as he started to dig his nails into the floor as they ran across it, dragging them ruthlessly through the surface. Streaks of blood beginning to trail his grinding digits; Hisses of steam spiraling from the trails of sickly crimson that began to eat away at the integrity of the metal grates. "It is a gut zhing mein blood is corrosive" He said as his spattered blood continued to eat through the floor panels and continue to seep into lower floors. The pain was minuscule, nothing in comparison to the agony he had suffered from his exalted work coursing through his very blood. The sound of running up ahead alerting them a pair of unknowns farther ahead. Vashka narrowing his gaze, figuring them for guards; clamping his hands against each other and coating them both in a bloody lacquer. "Vat are mein order's Herr Engel? Zey vill likely try und alert more trouble if zey make it to ze bridge. Vat should ve do?" he questioned, blood continued to sizzle through the floor as they moved ever closer to the bridge, hot on the heels of the guards gunning ahead. Vasha taking initiative and squeezing his oozing fingers for it's crimson nectar; dressing the remaining bullets in his rifle's clip before firing several rounds with an eager intent to kill.
  11. Marigold didn't waste any more time sending Nikki off. He was sad to see her go; It did him good to be surrounded by strong auras that forsook the hungering jaws of mania. Hermonthis and it's secrets are linked to this entity How rude~ then that was their best solution. His violet gaze watching her depart from the underground garage. A secret entrance whirring open at the edge of the treeline with Marigold's facility at her back. Her journey one that was relatively straightforward as her destination was directly eastward. Nikki feeling the bike pick up speed quite easily despite the terrain and could even feel it's altitude shift depending on the geography it could scan underneath. Rays of sunshine breaking through openings in the canopies, revealing her path through the underbrush. Half A day's travel would have her arrive within a wayward town that could adorn her in far better fitting attire. It was a start at least! The silence that the garage had succumb to after Nikki's departure was hastily broken with Petrichor's questioning. Marigold figured she had some alternative motive to all this incessant questioning. There were eager students...and then there were truth seekers incapable of accepting any words as they were. The Doctor overlooking the holograpic displays of his fabricator once more; her smile and disposition A cunning display of natural oddity and natural beauty creating tenacity incarnate "My late wife once picked it up as an ironic joke and would read it to me often. Why does my knowledge over such a tale interest you? You seem as though every question spoken has been thought about thrice over. Is it perhaps the relations in our scientific practice? The ruination of everything he ever loved by his own arrogance and weakness? The war that rages inside of him, desperately clawing it's way through his soul? Do you bring up this thinly veiled parallel because he is mad?" Marigold asked through seething teeth; Eyes beginning to pulse an iridescent green. Petrichor saw the walls around her begin to twist and convulse; the sheets of metal and steel corroding away to reveal writhing infinite mania. The floor falling away and revealing an encroaching nothing with abyssal laughter beckoning for her very sanity. All this suffocating madness crashing passed her and surrounding Marigold as though it were a pet, but it was just as easily seen shackling around his form like an inescapable prison. His eyes of howling insomnia draining of it's remaining stamina and dismantling the terrifying vision, returning the garage back to it's original state as he sunk into A chair. His expression mirroring an endless depth of sadness "The Difference is that he is fictional my dear" "But I am real"
  12. "Oh I am sure you do" He said with a saccharine grin "It is always the closed doors that attracts the foolhardy. I am sure it took just a few of Knole's very own to bring you here. it is our greatest weakness as humans...sentience beings...any race capable of humanity's own plight really. Word Of Mouth. It is capable of saving a life, or very well extinguish all the same. You possess a subconsciousness feeling toward me and my facility just from hearing my name mingled with the town's suffering. We are helpless to our prejudices..." He said, waving a finger in the air as they moved from the directory square into a central building that possessed a moderate atrium with a reception hall that led up to A holographic unfinished Valucre; the planet seeming to still miss many eastern and southern pieces . Two short staircases on either side of the hovering soon-to-be globe that led to second floor with various rooms, some with glass panels while others were steel. The Doctor shuffling into A meeting room of sorts with several chairs surrounding a glass table; his form slouching into one with his head nearly sinking between his shoulders. An air of relaxation seeming to radiate from him as a particular straw of hair sprung at the top of his head. She could feel that energy she felt from the droid flicker and spark on her 'radar'; another shift in his aura A roll of the dice! "Oh you heard the singing did you? Isn't it fascinating? You certainly are curious it seems; it is a farcry to see such a facility in the middle of the woods, especially a day's trek from a rustic hamlet, but can you believe that this was a location far lower on my list? Terrenus is suffering all sorts of chaos and wars are breaking out all across Valucre! It's madness out there, and I fear that in time it will be nothing but. I can only do so much...I am just a man you see. A near fatal setback caused quite the commotion around here, and ever since...my facility has a personality all his own. What's out there has most assuredly gotten in, and simply put...It doesn't want to leave " Marigold shooting up in his chair and nearly bowling her over as he left the meeting area "Forgive my strange behavior; It has been a stressful forty-nine hours without sleep and the human form starts to break down at this point. I am assisting A friend of mine on her quest and need to send her off before the sun sets! Perhaps then we can get to root of your curiosity and satiate it" Marigold an acolyte for sleep deprivation for the soul, and it showed. Both of them getting into an elevator and descending into unknown depths. //Oh Darlin, Im J3N, she's R3N// J3N responds with an antiquated laugh //The Mage Hunter of course! Dr. Ravenspire calls it his 'arcane countermeasure'. He The facility has been lively and it will be so good to have Xerxes back!// R3N Sputtered with excitement as the two laughed together and proceeded with their work. Nikki's bike being fitted with rations, water, and camping gear; her Beastly eye blinking and opening once more to see 'manifestation' of the menace that has both gifted and cursed her. He was the manifestation of the impossible brilliance and infallible chaos that was Madness. It was the first time she had ever seen any physical reference that didn't involve puppeteering Marigold. He possessed a tall and crooked form that looked far too thin and frail to even stand up, yet his legs and arms seemed yards long; his face plastered as though he were a pale mannequin; His eyes seeming limitless in their depths with colors that collided against one another like angry gods. Tendrils of hair swirling around his head with a Garrish top hat mounted on his head. "Getting stronger every day! The three of us~" He said with a bark of laughter, leaning near inches from her face grinning all the while. "Why are you going on this journey? What do you think your going to achieve? Do you think the good doctor can remove me? Like a parasite? A kernel in your teeth? HA HA HA" Another cacophony of laughter erupting from his form as he doubled over into the floor; his head hitting the steel below whilst his legs continued to move around her, dragging his head across the ground as he continued to laugh at his own jokes. "It isn't that simple you see! I pride myself on my dedication to my patrons!" He said, snapping back upright with the physicality of a spring...even having it's own sound effect "My desire is actually quite simple...I want to...exist" He said, beginning to square dance in place "I want to touch, and breathe, and experience the world! I have been imprisoned for eons and I gotta tell you; complete control over my domain...is boring. Madness is meant to be unexpected and spontaneous, but when it is locked away and forced to make it's own fun...it all becomes predictable! It was in the throes of my desperation that I figured out what I must do...Something so insane that only I could think of it!" he said slouching against her with his weightless form, dramatically pressing the back of his hand against his cheek before biting one of his fingers off, chewing on it as though it were licorice. His eyes locked onto hers once more; his grin nearly consuming the entirety of his face as the world fell away and it was just the two of them. The only source of light being his very gaze. A laugh cracking through his beaming teeth as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. Their foreheads touching, and it was the first time she had ever seen the true scale of this entity. "I want to live as you do! I want to be MORTAL" "Nikki! We have a most curious guest. I figure I would send you off on your trip and then show her about. It seems both of you share in listening to the tales of town folk" Marigold' voice was heard coming from down the hall; Nikki blinking and everything returning to it's original state. Laughing Stock nowhere to be seen. "Is everything alright? Tested the bike did you? I hope it is something you can get accustomed to. It seemed practical at the time and I feel it's the most effective way to travel quickly" He said, yawning and scratching his back as he waved Petrichor over. "Nikki, This is Petrichor and...vice versa" He said with a roll of his wrist "If there is anything you need to get before you head out or anything special you need. Now is the time" He said, giving Nikki a last call before sending her out to Hermonthis. It never heard to be prepared absolutely
  13. So are we breaking into groups on either side of the fight? I imagine having someone to oppose you directly would be interesting Might as well add to Marigold' Nemesis list! @danzilla3 Maybe some help from a third party? @Unicorgi
  14. I'm throwing Marigold into this This looks hella intriguing
  15. There was an unmistakable stench in the air; a lingering of iron, decay, and pestilence exhuming through the blankets of rain pelting the earth relentlessly. An abhorrent display of violence being brought to these unfortunate town's folk that laid scattered across the ground; Their corpses being piled up in a totemic claim of territory with survivors barely hanging onto their lives as they ran with everything they had, and lost. The executors of these poor souls, abominations with only bloodshed framing their trepenated skulls. The Dead attempting to cut a swathe through these fields of slaughter; The skeletal deviants chittering and creaked as they moved with unnatural speed. Hunger their only driving instinct. A blue shimmering tear of magic appeared betwixt the hordes, and The Dead themselves; a particular ravenous fiend being caught where the portal had suddenly expanded from. His form being erupted across the ground and greeting a few of the members with undead viscera. A robed figure merging from the arcane tear before it regressed and closed behind him. He was adorned in multicored robes of reds, golds, and purples that concealed most of his form except for what appeared to be...slow writhing worms that undulated in place of his hands and feet. A removed hood exposing that his head too, was made entirely out of strange purple worms. A face lacking any facial features to speak of. "I have arrived!" He called with a youthful voice of eager application expelling vibrantly from an otherwise unnatural creature. Reginald raising his arms in greeting before one of the undead horde smashed a heavy club through the wizard, reducing him to a cloaked pile. A wormed finger erupting from the pile and firing a sickly green beam at it's attacker. It's form beginning to rapidly decay and caused his body to begin flowing with the rain water. His robes beginning to jostle and rise before two arms of maggetous manifestation erupted into view. Reginald reforming and dusting his robes off before continuing "Forgive my lateness, everyone! Allow me to assist!!" He barked eagerly, listening to their instruction as he turned to face the coming foes. His hands beginning to trace arcane glyphs in the air as he prepared a spell. Arcane energy beginning to coalesce around his abberational form.
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