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-Lilium-

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-Lilium- last won the day on September 14 2019

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About -Lilium-

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    The Body Merchant
  • Birthday 09/22/1986

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    athrelecaliver
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    Lilium#8636

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  • Occupation
    Fighting Disillusionment

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  1. Worry for Eshara is situationally lacking on Capria's part. He isn't here, and I can't sense him anymore. Meaning she will have to fend for herself. Nothing new. What little portion of solidarity Gaia hasn't provided for survival, ornate training and experience does. Seconds tick endlessly by while time is spent painting a picture of the area. What she chooses to lack in sight, eyes shut, is made up for by other senses. Every sound; water dripping from stone, a claw scraping the ceiling, …a distant roar? Every smell; fishy, musty, earthen. Every feeling; a predator circling what it believes to be prey. Static along with slight changes in air pressure warn her when the creature is near. Even the temperature fluctuates as it waxes and wanes its movement. Cold blooded. Natural fact. Navigating the darkness and extending a reach without corporeal movement is easily done. Simply one shadow oozing, overlapping, to permeate another. Expanding from the center, her, and trailing outward toward and beneath it. A spider building its web in order to catch a pesky fly. Slowly, lashes part to reveal a narrow luminescent lavender glare. Glowing light absorbed by slick mucus slathered cylindrical coiled flesh. Thus exposing veins of lightning not yet ignited along the animals body. A less than horrifying face set behind the squaring of its mouth quickly snaps at the neck in her direction. Its opal eyes blinded by a life lived in darkness yet still able to distinguish the illumination of her own. Overgrown fish. Despite living with webbed and clawed feet it isn't fast enough to evade her movement. Nothing more than the flick of a wrist, outstretched fingers rising and closing into a fist. Shadows spanning the distance react preternaturally. Spiking upwards, stabbing into and wrapping around it to the motion choreographed by Capria's hand. @Fierach
  2. Dreams, ideals, thoughts, contemplations. Many areas the mind wanders to when in search of... Devastated areas lure the synaptic impulses and chemicals that drive curiosity. Quite disinclined to ignore the call of the wild this pair of travelers moves forth with palpable steps. Overgrowth and hanging greenery do not intrigue the onlookers as life is but a bright-side from whence they diverge. Death, both fresh and distant, is what draws on the senses. Ensnared by hook and sinker, are forced to make a new path through the foliage to permit entrance onto a fragile and wild throughway. Game trail…? Wet but dutiful is the obsidian nose hovering a hairsbreadth above the ground rising only to give direction. Hurried but gentle in its motion is a grateful hand to pat the creatures head. Separate fist busy holding a softly luminate stone. Not enough to break through the trees, but allowing for foot coverage. Safety an important aspect for any traveller to adhere to in unfamiliar territory. “Chfft,” Not a true sneeze, but rather a forceful clearing of the tickling flutter of a gnats wings caught in the nares. Unavoidable as they are, the duo continues on. Ignoring the onslaught of buzzing in favor of finding a more open area to shuffle around in. The last night they’d made camp had been a tight fit in the plant infested area they’d stopped. The two-legged traveler’s idea of making a tent, had been to lie in hiding beneath a sheet on the moist ground. Determination fuels their motives now. Things can only get better, right…? The four-legged creature had led them to an unusual an unexpected setting. “You should read aloud.” The cloaked two-legged one’s voice cuts into the night. Again, “chfft chfft” sounds, but beside the reading woman. A nosy black nose directing red eyes to take a look at both Isabel and her book in turn as the large animals relaxes and takes a seat against its haunches next to Isabel’s log bench. The words aren’t repeated, though the speaker kneels to examine the charred ground. Even wet and soaked in, the ash continues to hold a unique scent.
  3. -Lilium-

    Alterion AMA

    This is the place in which you are able to ask questions regarding everything Alterion related! We are currently undergoing some grueling renovations as well as creating fresh and exciting environments for you fabulous players to partake in. Please check our our Alterion legend as well! New things are on the horizon! Contacts | -Lilium- & paradigm
  4. Welcome to Valucre! May your journey here be adventurous!

  5. -Lilium-

    Alterion

    A little bump for those I missed, or new folks looking for a place to battle and/or build a place of their own.
  6. "Energy and persistence conquer all things." -Benjamin Franklin

    1. Show previous comments  1 more
    2. supernal

      supernal

      “Time and patience are the greatest warriors”

    3. Fierach

      Fierach

      "Hello there" - General Kenobi, Clone Wars, Battle of Utapau

    4. Sanonymous

      Sanonymous

      "General Kenobi!" -General Grievous, Clone wars, Battle of Utapau 

  7. Too tempted by Eshara's words, she snickers. Imagining the large fellow stuck in the hallway by his broad armorclad shoulders. Not that she is in any better of a situation, her height makes for awkward moving even if lithe. Partially bent knees and bracing arms help to keep balance. Fortunately, the walls stay approximately the same size. Unfortunately there's a sudden end hidden by the continuity of the endless illusion of the hallway. One moment Capria is in front of him, the next she's 'gone'. Where she goes is not at all pleasant and leaves her no time to give Eshara warning before he too is being swallowed by the flooring. Magically created and strategically hidden holes for trespassers no doubt. For now, their paths diverge. Squishing sounds alight in the darkness with every step she takes. Where she finds herself is cool, damp, spacious, and pitch black. The black cloud of evil still drenches her senses in the same manner as it had in the hallway. No closer than we were. Something brushes past the back of her left calf, soundless in whatever movement it is making to do so. A fact forcing her to keep still and quiet. Knowing full well it isn't the warrior, but rather a creature of malicious intent. Again she hears no movement and receives another probing touch, much more concise than the first. The nature of this hit tells her something of this predator. Warmth dribbles from her right shoulder. Absorbed and spread slowly across her skin by the fabric shrouding it. Still she remains quiet and makes no attempt to run. It wants to chase you. Capria knows this and does not allow it the pleasure of raising a single hair on her body. Eshara's drop is nearly as deleterious but more torrential than Capria's. His landing is into a rapidly flowing tunnel of water. There may be some room to breath but the current is a funneled and pressurized one rushing him forward toward places unknown. What little can be seen are mossy growths that cling to the tunnels ceiling and quite possible the walls and floor. But what he can see snaking through them, when able to gain enough footing in the moving water to focus, are long eel like creatures with webbed legs and pointed mouths full of sharp yellow teeth. Every rise to the surface either exposes them or doesn't. What he can feel in the water are tingles of electrical charges threatening to be something much worse should he not find a way out soon. If there even is one. @Fierach
  8. If ever there is a time, it’s now where Selene finds the trembling rage that had begun crescendoing the moment she heard of what befell Kadia. Rather than allowing it to engulf and take over, she steels herself. Wanting to reserve that energy in order to combat those standing between her and what is left of her home and people. Although too distant for her ears to catch, Tenkai’s words and their meaning hold truth. Despite her want to bloody everything before her she chooses to withhold and suppress it, supplanting it with faith their endeavor will prove fruitful. Knowing that unleashing it too soon could jeopardize the efforts of her compatriots. Stowing those emotions she also carefully walls off others in order to prevent they too from ruling the actions necessary to carry forward. With fire in her veins, Selene follows after James. Ready to provide rearguard until otherwise engaged in combat. Readily accepting the inevitability of coming face to face with the enemy while traipsing through the Chaos warship. Rather than unsheathing the sword at her back, she releases axe and dagger from waist and thigh, gripping their respective handles in either set of fingers. Preparing for close quarter fighting until they're in an area better suited for swordplay. Regardless, the thrill of unleashing the wrath of any blade on the evil forces awaiting them, excites the blood in her veins. Every muscle fiber anxiously anticipating the coming fight. @Fierach @Tenkai Matsumoto @Maverick @Roen
  9. Count me in. I'll use Saira and Gauge. A wannabe teacher who mostly studies the various types of undead things and her partner/pet dog wolf...thingy. I haven't figured out what exactly he is yet.
  10. Hawke, the blonde haired...boy. Jack's tension is enough to enunciate of whom he speaks along with the distrust being felt. Capria on the other hand says nothing. Telling Jack of her own suspicions would only exacerbate unintended worry. They were given a direct order under the guise of an initiation. And are, no doubt, still being tested on their ability to work as a team along with measuring those unique qualities that render their individuality. There's no time to draw Jack a conclusion when his sudden silence dictates the next onslaught. Consciously she repeats to herself the words many before and beside her have said...over and over. Killing them is more easily done when you no longer envision them as people. It's just that simple. Whether it's for Justice, a covert operation, a defensive position, dispensing judgement, or even a religious hail-Odin… The enemy will not be counted as viably sentient when innocent lives are on the line. Capria's calm revelry is littered with adjustments and a fairly quick categorization of armament. The normally preferred weapon, something requiring aim and best used at a distance is exchanged for something more feasible for a close quarters engagement. Choices based on the encounters they've already engaged in. She unholsters the handcannon, removes the cartridge of rounds and tucks those back into her coat. From there it changes. Reverting into a dark solid brick, only to immediately abort its geometrical shape for a bladed weapon. All in the time it takes her to reach the doorway. When it appears she’s about to exit, there’s a militant pivot. Glaring, glowing, citrine eyes bear down on Jack. Although incredibly brief the gaze is intense enough, were she aligned with fire, to burn through his altered eye sockets. Clarity is rendered with such a subtle whisper it could be easily mistaken for air gently swaying a leaf caught on the ground. “No, the mission comes first. Elevator, clear, then boy.” There is no negotiating, arguing, or accidentally misunderstanding. Being ‘cured’ isn’t something that sits well with her. Not knowing the side effects, whether or not it will last, or that little remainder of...can they even use it again if the worst happens? As far as any of them know, they’re on borrowed time until proven otherwise. “We will clear as we go. Leave nothing to escape once the elevator is up and running.” May not be the time to whisper, yet Capria intends to hammer her point into his thick skull. Again she turns back to the doorway holding the newly furnished weapon flat against the length of her forearm. Free fingers gently turn the doorknob, hoping for silent hinges as it opens. When it does they are met with silence and the pungent odor of death... @P.N.See @Zashiii
  11. Elsewhere… | Where did they go?! | “How should I know?! They were there one minute and gone the next! Stop yelling at me!” | Try to regr-- | Silence ensues. Never like Emme to leave a sentence hanging. Sterling snickers slightly. At first, it’s due to the idea that she’d potentially accidentally on purpose ended the woman’s ranting. Shortly thereafter, it’s believed to be a malfunction. Every electrical segment of her mechanical monstrosity had ceased to thrive. And as soon as she’d picked up on it she moved to fix it. “I musta ran down the coils again...shit. They’re going to kill me this time for sure.” Sterling openly, daily, is willing enough to admit how much of a nuisance she can be. Unlike Keanu and David she’s able to rally more quickly and exit her hunk of junk, the love and creation of her life. Her giant metal baby. Gloved fingers gently running along the hatch lock before flipping, twisting, and pulling it. ‘Ssssst-pew’ the entire panel flies off and hits the ground hard enough to leave a remarkable indentation. Met with stillness and a hauntingly eerie silence she greets nature by climbing out of the machine and plops softly to the ground. Again the atmosphere is clear but thick. Hints of smoke from the mechanized weapon drifts lazily under her nostrils. An absent minded mistake is made. Crouched and unsure of whether or not to breathe too deeply she cautiously presses the button on the side of her helmet. The retrofitted glass plate slides down and locks. It seems to work well despite the lack of functional electronics. Oh shit… When truly considered, she's moving. The suits filtering system won't function and she hadn't thought to grab the backup manual oxygen canister and bring it down with her. I should have fixed it, she told me to fix it...and I blew her off… I just didn't do it. As if the air isn't thick enough her own panicked breathing lends to it. Fog comes and goes as she scrambles back upward in order to lean in and grab the external fixator she needs. Too late it seems. The ground is already reacting to her frenzied steps alerting it to the biological matter heated within her suit. Her. It's after her. Sterling tries to rip her boots free, but it climbs farther up the grounded leg and eventually pulls her off balance. She'd rested too long in the mutated soil before moving. Sterling can't even writhe. Every portion of her frame touching the ground is enveloped in its protruding tendrils. Arching her hips to keep her waist from being covered, only ensures its ensnaring grip on her shoulders and sucks the air from her lungs as her back is slammed against the ground. Cilia protruding from the oozing muddy substance slither across the glass, shadowing her eyes from the outside world. Trying to find an opening, trying to get to her. "It's going to get in..oh shit...OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT!!" Now it's harder to breathe. Her pulse is racing and the air is too thin. Struggling against it does little more than allow the earth to get a better hold of her. Each bit of suited surface finally becoming entangled and covered. But not for long.
  12. Angles...It takes an odd out of the corner of the eye glance to see the shimmering wall they'd nearly slammed into. Things are already bad enough that David's HUD constantly scrambles to visualize the landscape. His eyes rendered useless enough that she has to force his face plate open in order to see with her own. "Sterling? STERLING?!" Nothing, not even static. They're alone now. Little does she understand how alone she truly is. / David, we need to find a way around...or through this. Comms are down and we can't locate Sterling's position next to...this...wall? \ Dr. Concordia had briefly explained the pooling of ethereal matter from below Alterions natural crust. Yet was left unable to describe what it actually is and why. Or maybe she left those tidbits out. This wouldn't be the first time a scientist had used them for research or experimentation. Probably won't be the last either. A lack of response forces her to connect the dots, rapidly. If not for having opened his face plate the likelihood she would have suffocated rather than just being physically stuck inside of her metallic partner is great. Not a single light shines within him, no matter how many buttons or connections she tries to make. What in… David had never stopped before. He was always there, alive and moving just as she is. Please...work… “Damn it!” Reality is heavy, sparsely filled with hope. “David…” Red eyes dart up from their revelry, her fingers suddenly grappling with his innards for a manual override. Pushing against and clawing at the center portion of his frame until she falls out. Humid thick and rich in earthy tones the air though not foggy, clings to her lungs. Somehow wildlife is startled by her movements, a small rodent scurries from the brush to her left straight towards the wall. It isn’t as she feared the permeability of it proven by the creature's body slipping halfway through it. But the ground moves more quickly. Muddy tendrils reach upward and outward like fungal growths and freeze the animal in place. Absorbing and growing through it right before her very eyes. Turmoil sets in, leaving Keanu severely torn between what she has to do and what she refuses to do. A choice has to be made, and is. Scrambling from the ground and onto her feet before the same fate of that poor critter befalls her as well. “David…” She understands he probably can’t hear her but it changes little. “I’ll be back for you. I promise.” Whatever it is attempting to peel apart her boots and consume her ignores the tin man to which she speaks. He’ll be safe...you have to move...MOVE!
  13. There were times when disgust had washed over her so thickly she could taste it. This moment...it holds a reality to it unlike any other. Fract knows how many showers and tubes of toothpaste she’d need to go through before feeling clean again. "Goddamned apes," spat Ravenbush, "Capria, Jack, wake up! Time to get our revenge." Relief douses some of the putrid recognition Capria holds against herself. Adjusting those narrowed catlike eyes to take a better glimpse at both Raven and Jack. At first she sighs with exasperation, but it is suddenly squelched by Jack’s question. “But there’s one thing that bothers me...” – Jack moved his artificial eye toward Capria’s eyes. – “When you were making that antidote… Was it really you back then, or…?” Capria had never found definition of self to be applicable in any situation. Very few knowing what truly exists within her. For some reason it slips out...not purposeful or expected but still very much out in the open. Once uttered it cannot be taken back or buried further inward as she would prefer it to be. “When I was young...the Witch King Zengi was busy cursing the lands. Dredging up all manner of evil spirits and monsters he could to destroy what civilization we clung to. Geography mattered little to him… Some of us were are marked by this travesty and carry burdens upon our souls that forever tie us to that past. Some were saved by death ...others like myself...were left abandoned. Permanently branded by darkness...” Capria hasn’t fallen so far back in memory for a great period of time, she’d forced it into what she believed was nonexistence, only to find it now tearing through her. Catching this moment by the throat she ends it with a clearing of the throat. Dirtied fingertips rub against cheeks and eyes alike to warm and awaken the skin beneath. “No...it wasn’t entirely me.” And that’s where she leaves it. Now she’s up on her feet, looking through the materials strewn about the counter. Each vial in the stand containing combinations of materials in different weights. Instead of analyzing the scribbles laid out on several sheets she takes to pocketing it all for evaluation at a later date. Eyes only for the powers that be. “Be wary...there may be unwanted side effects. It may not even be a stable or permanent antidote.” What little she sees and understands with those herbological and manmade components does little to soothe the ramifications of whatever they were injected with. For now those secrets rest in the inky shadows used to envelope and ‘disappear’ them. “Raven is partially correct. Not really for revenge, but we still have a mission to complete. Right yourselves and prepare to clear the area and get that damn elevator back online.” Cold and bleak is the voice emitted. Concrete evidence that she’s reverted back to a solitary and confined state. All business. @P.N.See @Zashiii
  14. -Lilium-

    Alterion

    You have my attention and appreciation. I will be writing you a PM in a few short moments to discuss your idea to make sure what you need is able to happen with what we're about to do to Alterion.
  15. Fastforward… Blurs fill the landscape. Capria’s eyes attempt to regain focus while her body rustles around. Sounds of glass shattering reverberating painfully off her eardrums when grabbing hold of something to right her frame. Eventually a counter littered with beakers takes shape. That’s right…. She remembers Jack finding the hospital. Did they make it? Capria isn’t too sure until everything else in her view begins to reduce from multiples down into a singularly pinpointed image. Every inch of her brain aches and throbs while trying to realign with their current situation. “God awful…” It’s a squeak but still a start. Fumes of death and infection tighten her belly and cause her to forcibly heave foam from her lips. Though weakened, she feels better than she had before even as she wretches. Ever so distantly that inner voice sends out a transmission allowing her to review what had transpired, I was able to give you some of my strength and help with the antidote...Not sure how well it will work because I don’t have your knowledge on the subject matter of herbology...but I gave it my best. Now...I need to sleep. The idea of being possessed, even if only to promote her survival, doesn’t sit well with her. But it had managed to help her-them….it had helped all three of them. As if in a frenzy she whirls around to find Raven and Jack strewn haphazardly against an already littered floor. ‘Pharmacy’ dings in her mind, they’d somehow managed it. Slowly, her back slides abrasively per vertebral knots until her bottom hits the floor again. Nausea and dizziness beginning to settle. Once she is righted, she’ll have a look at what she’d managed to mix together. But not before expelling the wriggling invasion of the disease they’d all taken in. It oozes through her veins just enough to be felt, like thick slothy worms. Every explosion of foam from her mouth is purulent drainage she doesn’t fight to hold in. Permitting its exit in order to rid herself of any remnants of the infection. “Ja--ack….Raven...Jack…?” Speech doesn’t come too easily in the moment but she presses for it. Wanting to know if her comrades are still with her. @P.N.See @Zashiii
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