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Caelum & Infernus: The Darkness Of The World

Discussion in 'SOS Brigade (Clubs)' started by The7thSeal, Mar 14, 2018.

  1. The7thSeal Trophy Hunter

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    People always assumed that when the apocalypse came, that would be the end of it. The world would end, the good would go to heaven, the bad would go to hell. But what actually happened was incredibly different. First of all, the Rapture brought no peace. It brought war on a scale unheard of by humanity between forces far beyond their understanding.

    Angels and demons clashed and battled across the war-torn Earth and humanity paid the price a thousand times over. Resistance was brief, but ultimately futile. Humanity was blasted asunder and, scattered to the four winds, the age of man passed into the twilight forgotten.

    300 years has passed since the war broke out, and while the fighting between the Angelic Host and the Demonic Horde has ebbed, the conflict continues to this very day. Humanity, while a shade of its former self, has survived and continues to struggle on in their ravaged world at the bottom of the food chain. However, there are those among them that stand above their kinsman. In the centuries since the Apocalypse, the latent magicks of the world have thrived and granted a small number of mankind great powers.

    They are known as the Gifted, and while they are few, they wield strength to face the dangers of this world.

    And dangers there are. Far more than anyone knows...




    Setting: Most of humanity lives either in large, walled cities created from what remnants of world's great cities from before the apocalypse, or as large caravans, which form small settlements whenever they need to stop for supplies.

    The cities primarily in a tiered manner, with the 'upper classes' living in the top levels, and the majority of the population living in the lower/slum levels.

    Humanity operates primarily on a barter system. Goods for goods.

    The Angelic Host and their faithful reside in Elysium, a verdant paradise, revitalised from the dust of this dying world by divine powers. The everyday trials of life outside of Elysium are non-existent there. But make no mistake, the faithful are indentured to the Host and more akin to servants and slaves than guests in this angelic realm.

    The rest of the world is held by the Demons. However, they do not control the world by any means.
    Whereas the Host are lesser in numbers, but a unified force, the Horde is fractured. Various factions continually fight amongst themselves for power, while lesser demons have taken residence in the ruins of the old world.




    Character Info:
    Name:
    Age:
    Race:
    Appearance:
    Ability:
    Weapons:
    Background:



    Character Limits (kinda):

    Just a few minor things;
    1. Angelic characters will need a reason for why they are separate from the rest of the Host, as they are extremely loyal to the cause.
    2. Demons similarly will need a reason, though as they can be much more autonomous they will have more leeway.
    3. Conventional weapons such as guns and swords and the like an relatively ineffective against angel or demon, so bear that in mind. If you can come up with a reason for why what you're using is more effective (be it from your “gift” or a special material) go for it.
    And that's pretty much it. This is a mostly story driven RP, but if you have an idea for the main plot, a side plot or maybe something related to your character, I'm all ears.
     
    #1 The7thSeal, Mar 14, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 14, 2018
  2. Spyton I Got A Trophy!

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    I would like to join, this is My first Time trying a Forum Rp, If I am Breaking the rules or ruining the fun, please inform me in order to improve me. I have read the forum tips.

    Character Info:

    Name: Richus

    Age: 26

    Race: Human

    Appearance:A Wizard stands before you. how do you know he is a wizard, His magic seems to burn off of him in a cloak like heat off of a fire. In fact to the more magically inclined you can occasionally see his magic drip off of him from his finger tips if he holds them out. It seems to dissipate before it gets more than a few inches but it can be seen. The color changes from time to time, Mostly it is almost clear.

    His Dark Hair covers his right eye. His left eye, A blue orb stares out at you. His beard seems to be in a stubble stage, but unlike most men it remains soft.
    He speaks, But his mouth moves very little, as if as little effort is wasted on this action as possible. His skin is White and clear.

    His clothing is a red shirt with an overly large Red jacket, a pair of dark pants made of the standard materials for the age, With a pair of Black pointed Boots. No hat.

    Ability: A true Master of Magic Focusing on the "Darker Arts". He has learned to cast without signs, or wands, But with his willpower alone allowing him to multicast easily. he does specialize in necromancy, Mysticism And artificing of objects. He has delved so far into his arts he can manipulate a soul inside of it's own body. Usually his soul spells require the opponent to be defeated physically or to be actively docile.

    His own magic energy has been deadly when inserted into any being he has ever tried, it will react negatively in most bodies as they are non-compatible.

    Weapons: Magic, occasionally a summoned weapon, In dangerous battles he summons a full suit of Bone armor With clawed finger gauntlets. He usually pairs all combat with Personal Augmentation Magic.

    Background: He grew up in an average Fortress city, he found a wizard who while not willing to take on an apprentice, allowed him to read from and study from the wizard's resources. This meant many long hours alone, practicing to use magic in ways that would not interfere with the wizard's own studies. After he felt that he had learned enough, he began wandering the world as part of the traveling caravans. He found that his magic is oftentimes discomforting to those who have seen it in combat, and he rarely uses his preferred spells because of this.
     
  3. The_Lullabye Trophy Hunter

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    OOC: Let's see if I can get back into the swing of things everyone. I'll try to check in at least once a day or every other.

    Name: Riley Dulak
    Age: 24
    Race: Human
    Appearance: A long haired young man dressed in patchwork clothing of a drifter of Earth's wastelands. Carries a water skin that never runs empty.
    Ability: Water Magic
    Weapons: A longsword, a dagger, and an antique compound bow.
    Background: A child orphaned after his caravan was attacked by demons. With the screams of death behidn him he ran through the poisoned wasteland until he came across a true spectacle, living trees. Entering this impossible paradise, he discovered a small lake at the center of the woods with clean water untainted by the demonic effects of the area. He drank deeply from the lake then fell asleep from exhaustion.

    Name: Sayli
    Age: ---
    Race: Water Spirit
    Appearance: A fairy, four insect type wings, a bluish tint to her skin and hair with eyes the color of deep water.
    Ability: Control over the water in her lake. Able to create water but this takes time and effort. Can purify water.
    Weapons: Water
    Background: A water spirit living in a secluded lake in the northern UK for an untold amount of time. Was awakened by Riley when he drank from her lake. (Something something, innocence, purity of heart, because the plot demands it) Taking pity on the lost child she raised him in seclusion of her hidden lake. She gifted him with a sword and dagger from the bottom of the lake and helped him train in it's use. SHe also taught him her control over water. Her awakening removed the protection she held over her lake whiel she slumbered and as Riley grew it began to slowly dry up, despite her best efforts to replenish it.

    Riley stood at the edge of teh treeline looking out over the lake he had called his home for the last eighteen years. Though to call it a lake at this point was certainly a misnomer as their was only a small puddle surrounded by mostly dried mud. He'd eaten the last fish the night before, a small thing that was barely a meal.
    The water shimmered and a small glowing figure emerged from the puddle and flew to his side. "The trees are starting to die as well." The miniature woman said sadly. Riley only nodded at this and turned to the small camp nearby.
    It wasn't much, just a lean to against a tree with browning leaves, an old campfire ring and a few belongings.
    "It's time to leave, Sayli. You've always told me we would have to one day. Didn't think it would happen so soon."

    He gathered up his few belongings, the sword and dagger he never had to sharpen, the water bag Sayli had given him filled with, "The Heart of the Lake," as she called it, but was just water. He tied his hair back and picked up a walking staff he'd made for himself and set off for the edge of the woods with Sayli hovering by his side. The smell of sulfur grew stronger to the point of being nauseating. The two came to the edge of the woods, withered trees surrounded them as they looked out on the decayed landscape.

    With twin sighs of regret, the pair set off into the wasteland, hopefully in a safe direction. By some manner of luck the pair managed to get sighted by a traveling caravan and soon found themselves surrounded by the first humans Riley had seen in eighteen years.
     
  4. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "For the last. Bloody. Time. I am NOT a demon summoner!"
    She remained unconvinced. Her holy axe rested against his throat, and he glared at her a little more insistently.
    "Okay, there's a test, right? Give me the test. I'll prove it."
    "There is an incubus. Literally sat. Right over there."
    Theiyll waved happily, his squat form swinging back and forth on the fence. Barely three and a half feet tall, small stubby wings, a dark bronzed skin with reptilian ruffles on his neck and a toad-like grin, he watched through amber eyes as the huntress pressed Gurahl into the man's neck even more insistently.
    "Yes, I have a familiar. No, I'm not a demon summoner."
    "That's mutually inclusive."
    "No, it bloody isn't! I didn't summon the twonk, he turned up and asked ME for help!"
    "And you gave it to him?"
    "... Okay, I know that sounds bad..."

    Some humans just attract trouble. Some humans just stand out in a crowd. Some humans just have some strange powers and SOME humans are too soft-hearted after the bloody apocalypse of all things. Melt Yolnir had the misfortune to be all of the above. Melt was a dumb name. He hadn't picked it. Yolnir had been his father's choice. His mother had wanted a girl. They'd compromised.

    Melt was one of the Gifted. At first, his family had been over the moon at their son developing magical powers... but the problem was, they never seemed to go anywhere. As it stood, he seemed to only have a strange ability to see things that weren't really there. Or rather, only he could see them. A strange world, a separate world from his own, and at first he'd wondered if he was going mad. Failing that, he wondered if he was the only one who could see it. As it transpired, when a low-level incubus dropped into his life, no, no he was not.

    The incubus, by the name of Theiyll, had outlined to him that what he was seeing was called the spirit realm, a sort of metaphysical no-man's-land between the mortal world and the dominions of heaven and hell. "This world's the filling, heaven and hell are the bread for the sandwich... but you can tell if the bread's buttered."

    Theiyll had been drawn to Melt, sensing an strange radiant energy like a scent coming off the young man, so the cunning incubus struck up a deal. He'd be Melt's familiar, adviser, counselor and guide. In exchange, Melt would act as an anchor, giving the incubus a way into the physical realm for a limited time before the constraints of existing outside of his natural habitat forced him back into the spirit world.

    Theiyll's abilities were nothing too incredible. Whilst in the spiritual world, he could mind-read to a limited degree, be completely invisible to all others except those with holy or demonic affiliations, and, most unnervingly, increase Melt's sex appeal by a disconcerting amount. Melt had never used this power, to Theiyll's disappointment, but there was still time for the human to fall a bit further, after all. Whilst in the physical world, Theiyll was a shapeshifter with above average strength, that only grew depending on his physical position in relation to Melt's. That said, anything larger than a minor demon was way out of Theiyll's pay grade and he knew it. So, he tended to either shift into a weapon for Melt to wield, or anything fast enough to get the hell out of there.


    The situation at hand was not a pleasant one. A demon hunter, wielding a powerful divine blessed holy battle axe, quote unquote, was under the impression Melt had summoned Theiyll to engage in all sorts of wanton mischief. In contrast to her opinions, and to Theiyll's distaste, Melt had never even so much as once let himself fall prey to anything Theiyll could offer him. Money, women, power, the classic set, and even though Theiyll could tell the boy had been tempted by a few of these, he'd managed to pull himself back from the brink. Too damned often for Theiyll's liking, but he did enjoy challenges.

    "So, let me get this straight. You can see the spirit realm."
    "Yes."
    "And this demon came to you and offered his services, and you took him up on it."
    "Yes!"
    "So you made a pact with a demon."
    "Yes!"
    "..."
    "..."
    "Wait, damn it, no, that came out wrong!"

    Melt ducked, and the axe's swing nearly clipped his greying hair.
    "Leg it!"
    "Legging it!"
    And both of them hurtled down the dark alleyway, disappearing into the town's labyrinthine passageways cloaked in shadow, the bright light of Gurahl in hot pursuit.
     
  5. Spyton I Got A Trophy!

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    Richus opened his wallet to see one of his Pet astral Spiders had made a web in the open space. Fitting because the wallet was empty. *his stomach growled* He was in a new city, having just arrived from trekking across the wasteland with a small caravan he ran into while walking his own way across the wastes, He had no contacts here, no guild that he could find for easy pay. On top of that 3 places had already turned down his request to open a tab, not a surprise for the state of things in the world. *He waves at the spider and waits long enough for it tow ave back before closing his wallet.

    "Well I guess I can do that for now" he says aloud and seemingly to himself.

    He finds a favorable street in the lowest district of the city and concentrates briefly before moving his hands as if willing something up from the ground, a Pedestal of some inane material slowly raises from the ground, and a very visible spectral banner appears above it which reads "Magician & Artificer for hire, no job too small"

    He made sure that the banner could be understood even if the people here could not read, but in reality the banner was more than just a display, The real benefit of it was it acting as a beacon, reaching into the minds of those around, and informing them of the presence and purpose of the wizard. Those who were magically null inclined, would not notice, and its maximum distance for the effect to work would be no more than a few hundred feet. of course It also usually keeps the city guards away as well.

    He had done this a few times before and he found it to be lucrative and a quick enough way to make a few coins. It also helped the down and out a bit which he did not dislike. A few people stopped by requesting he repair broken tools, or a cheap heirloom. requests of that ilk are the norm. He would make enough cash for food and maybe even decent lodging if he stayed at it long enough,

    He Stands on hist pedestal street side waiting for more business to call.
     
  6. The7thSeal Trophy Hunter

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    OOT: Might as well get somewhat started so we have something going.

    Light's Vale's lowest levels were bad, even by the lowest standard.
    It rested in the carcass of the old city, which remained somewhat intact thanks to the great metal constructs that held the rest of the towering city aloft. What passed as shelter for the slum dwellers was built of junk, cast offs from the higher levels that either didn't realise or didn't care that there were those that lived below. It existed in perpetual night, what little light there was came from few shards of phosphorescent crystals that the inhabitants had been able to haggle for from those that lived above, or from what lamps that could be salvaged from the junk heaps that littered the ground. And as I one would expect from conditions such as these, disease was rife.

    The ground shook, the metal supports of the city groaned. And swiftly as it had come, the land settled. This was a normal occurence for the inhabitants, but for anyone new to the slums, it would be...unnerving.
     
  7. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "You're a real fast thinker, you know that? Really quick-witted."
    "I DIDN'T SEE YOU HELPING!"
    Melt dived under some rotted tarpaulin and tensed up as the wooden boards, long since damaged beyond repair, shattered under his weight. He fell through the shoddy patchwork, down through to the disused walkway below, rolled, kept running. His pursuer didn't even slow her pace, leaping into the air and bringing Gurahl down in one strike. There was a flash of light, and another hole even larger than the one Melt had made simply cleaved itself into existence for her to drop down through and continue her chase.
    "Oh - come on!"
    "That's huntresses for you - they tend to be a tad bitchy."
    "I HEARD THAT!"
    "THEY ALSO HAVE REALLY GOOD HEARING! PROBABLY A LEADING CAUSE OF THEIR BEING BITCHY!"
    "WOULD YOU SHUT UP!?"
    Melt knew this part of Light Vale like the back of his hand. Regrettably for him, due to the ramshackle nature of the location and the unexpected quakes that happened every now and again, some parts of the local geography weren't as stable as they should be.
    Theiyll was currently in the form of a lizard, scrabbling along behind Melt along crumbling brick walls, before becoming a cat that effortlessly kept its balance alongside Melt as they ran.
    "You do have a plan, right?"

    "Theiyll, since when on earth have I ever had a plan?"
    "And here I was thinking I'd rub off on you."
    "Considering you're an incubus, that's way more disgusting than if someone else had said it."
    "..."
    "... You didn't."
    "Look, I can explain -"
    "I WILL LET HER KILL YOU!"
    "Just keep running!"

    Aleitra narrowed her eyes. Usually, familiars didn't argue with their owners. Then again, this one swore he'd never even so much as touched occult magic. She had to hurry this up - if she gave the man so much as a spare second to recuperate, he'd banish the demon back to the spiritual world and she wouldn't be able to slay it. The weight and power of Gurahl, the Axe That Sunders Darkness, glowed in her hands as she realized that her prey had stopped.

    Melt bit his lip, backing away - that latest quake had buried his closest escape route under sheets of ruined metal and crumbling stonework.
    "Okay, Theiyll, get out of here."
    "What? Hold on, I'm not just gonna-"
    "Theiyll absolom departei mortalis," Melt said firmly, and to anyone who had been watching it would have looked like the cat looking up at him just popped out of existence. Simply vanished, as if it had never been there. To Melt, however, it was somewhat less dramatic, as the incubus now hovered before him back in its usual form, looking annoyed.
    "Yeah, because I'm just gonna abandon you back to crazy scary axe lady," Theiyll growled, looking annoyed at Melt's refusal to be anything less than pure paragon. "Now summon me back!"
    "Nope."

    Aleitra rounded the corner and leveled her axe at Melt - cursing. "You dismissed your familiar. Why?"
    "I'd prefer it if you didn't hurt him."
    That statement - so distant from the others she'd hunted, so peculiar in its humanity - made her lower her axe, just a little. "Why?" she asked again.
    "Because as loathsome and repugnant as he is... he's my friend. And he's only here because I told him I'd give him a link to the physical world."
    "And why did you do that?" she asked suspiciously, hand reaching into her pocket.
    "Because he wanted to feel the sun on his skin," Melt said simply, leaning against the wall, hands up in a you-got-me gesture. "He wanted to enjoy the flavor of cooked meat on his tongue. He wanted to feel what it's like to splash in puddles. As a creature of the spirit realm he couldn't really do any of that. So, in short... I guess I'm just a bit of a softie."
    Her hand whipped out from her pouch, and several glimmering droplets of water shone in the light of the crystals embedded into the walls around them as they splashed against Melt's face. Melt wiped his face and looked at his hand.
    "Holy water?"
    "Thrice blessed," Aleitra said shakily. "Designed to be like acid, in the presence of evil. Even an ounce of dark magic on your person should have been enough to permanently scar you for life."
    Melt waited. But he just felt wet.
    "See, if you'd listened to me earlier -"
    "You have an incubus. You have made a pact with a demon. That is dark magic. And yet here you stand, speaking so passionately, and the power of the holy fountain seems lost on you."
    "We never actually made a magically binding pact. The only magic I really know is how to summon forth a demon from the spirit realm - BUT I have to know its name first," he added hurriedly as she glared at him. "And how to dispel it. Even, like in the incubus's case, if it really doesn't want to go."
    "You're devil-damned right I didn't wanna go," Theiyll hissed in annoyance at him. "Do you have any idea how much it'll tick me off if I'm left in debt to the sacrifice of a mortal? You need to get some sense in your head, brat."
    "Love you too, Theiyll."
    She blinked. From her perspective, the demon had vanished. "You are... in a relationship with the incubus?"
    Both man and demon fought the urge to vomit. "Oh no, GOD no!" "Tell her never to bring that up again. Ever. Please."
    "He says please don't ever assume that again. The thoughts alone will give me nightmares."
    "So you weren't bluffing," she said in slight awe. "You do have the power to see into the spiritual realm."
    "And you don't? That seems like a really useful skill to have when hunting -"

    A sound cut them off. It was a scream, loud, piercing, a true shriek. To Aleitra, it seemed to come from a way over from the southwest of their location. Her axe, however, tingled like it was freezing cold in her hand - a sign dark magic was at work.
    To Melt and Theiyll, they could see a column of malevolent spiritual energy, a dark decrepit rotting green, spiraling up into the clouds from where the scream came.
    "Oh no, Melt, calling it here. We go the other way. We go the other - THE OTHER WAY, YOU STUPID APE-"
    But both his master and their huntress had immediately started running at full tilt towards the source of the scream. Theiyll knew he had no reason to stick around. There was nothing holding him here. He could just try his luck and find another feckless mortal who could see the spirit world and wouldn't insist on binding him.
    He mulled over this for exactly four seconds, before cursing everything he could and soaring after them.
     
    #7 MateusseDarkslight, Mar 28, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 28, 2018
  8. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    Nicknamed: Tempo

    Gender: Female... probably?

    Age: Unknown

    Type: Higher Demon

    Description:
    Humanoid creature measuring 1.97 meters in height. Tempo shows minimal muscle mass, with preliminary analysis of body mass suggesting a slightly underweight complexion in comparison to normal human standards. The rest of her body fits in perfectly with form. Its jaw can open to four (4) times the norm of an average human to reveal four (4) sets of teeth on both the top and bottom of her mouth. Each teeth seems to be dipped into an unknown metal giving them extreme sharpness, strength, and durability. Her jaw seems to be able to contract back at an extreme speed and pressure - this allows her to bite through most known materials and even bone. All other facial features are relatively similar to that of a human. Its solid black eyes lack discernible irises or pupils, and resemble small cut onyx. Damage taken gradually 'heal' by her flesh seeming to 'weave' itself back together and excrete any foreign materials via entry wound. Rather accustomed to demonic creatures, two narrow wings extend from behind her; fiery bones, and feathers of flesh stretch upward, and side by side.
    She is usually found strolling rather nonchalantly as if there wasn't a war raging all around her.

    Method of Summon:
    Due to Tempo's nature of being a deal broker, she may be summoned. One such method of summoning is by removing a part of oneself and preparing it in a manner suited for Gods.

    Abilities:
    Tempo is capable of mutating and modifying existing organisms to their utmost extremes as long as they are bound by contract. She may also consume most forms of matter. Can travel through the Aether to get to places faster, essentially "teleporting".

    It was about time Tempo fed again before continuing to hide in plain sight from both the Demonic forces, and the Angelic ones. In the eyes of the holy, she was an enemy by nature. On the other hand, in the eyes of the infernal, she was a traitor - abandoned them in their time of need for her own selfish gains, or at least that's why they said about her.

    Dragged into a war she never wanted to be a part of, she had been forced to fight until the day she finally began making contracts; the day she was able to sustain her infernal energy.

    Some decades ago, she had been summoned by a human whom was near death. Simultaneously bleeding out and about to be struck down by a pack of Demons, Tempo had been the person's last hope. Given at the time she had only newly freed herself from the grasp of the infernal, she accepted the weakly prepared summon, the man's hand, and gone to the person. The request was simple - save him and in return he'd sacrifice a person to her every few years.
    At the time, saving him wasn't much of a challenge. She easily dispatched her once comrades and handed the person a small square parchment and a dagger whilst instructing him to supply a drop of blood. Upon doing so, she 'patched' him up in a method similar to that of her own - weaving the upper layers of skin from the surrounding area with each other.

    That was, however, a lifetime ago. Unfortunately for the man once saved, he had become sickly and unable to perform sacrifices for an extended period of time, much to the distaste of Tempo.
    This warranted a visit, a rather lethal one at that.

     
  9. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "G-grandfather!"
    Seyre was frozen to the spot. Her eyes were wide, her fingers trembling on the hilt of the little knife she carried everywhere. Her grandfather had told her stories of the time he met a demon. Of the inhuman appearance she had, the monstrous maw with far too many teeth, the terrible wings that he'd sworn were sent to carry him off to hell. But she had never expected to MEET the creature.
    Her grandfather, old and feeble, looked up at Tempo with sunken eyes. Wisps of grey hair seemed to drift aimlessly around his forehead, and his flesh was craggy and wrinkled like an eroded cliff. The room was quiet, paint peeling off the walls, a few stars outside visible through the boarded-up window.
    "You'll have to forgive me," he managed, swallowing with a dry throat. Fear trembled through his voice but he continued to speak calmly, making no move to ward her off. "I've not been giving you what you want. I know that, and... I accept you're not here to give me a second chance, are you? You can do what you want to me, but please... I beg you, do not harm my little Seyre. She's my gift back to the world and I'll gladly go wherever you take me as long as she can remain. Please..."

    -------------------------------------

    "So you don't know what's going on?"
    "Of course I don't! You're the one with the familiar, you tell me!"
    "Oh, so because I happen to have ONE lower-class demon, a full-on eruption of demonic energy in the spirit realm is automatically my schtick?"
    "No, because you can SEE the eruption of demonic energy in the spirit realm, and I can't!"
    "Look, would you two lovebirds kindly RUN THE HELL AWAY BECAUSE THAT IS A BROKER DEMON AND I'M NOT GOING NEAR THAT?!"
    Melt turned, looked back at Theiyll, slowing to a halt. They had reached the source of the pillar of magic, now dwindling away to nothing, but still radiating a feeling of strong malice and death - an old set of buildings, dilapidated but still functional, now serving as a retirement home for the elderly. "A broker demon?" Aleitra watched Melt apparently talk to himself, but knowing that the incubus might be helpful in telling them what they were up against.
    "Long story short, they travel through the spirit world to wherever they're needed, and make deals with the damned and desperate. And if one turned up here, of all places, with THAT kind of entrance, then they're here to cash in their chips on a stiff client, you know what I mean?"
    "You mean it's here to kill someone." Aleitra started at that, and lifted Gurahl over her shoulder.
    "Precisely. Now, the part that you should listen to, is the part where I cup my hands like this and shout, TRYING TO SCREW A BROKER DEMON OUT OF A DEAL EARNS YOU AN ENEMY FOR LIFE WHO WILL HUNT YOU OUT OF BOREDOM IF NOTHING ELSE! And then, that said, you get smart and we turn around, because I am NOT getting involved with a broker demon. They're powerful, they're spiteful, they're vindictive, and they're, they're, you're not listening to me any more are you?"
    Melt and Aleitra had looked at each other, then opened the front door and raced inside.
    "Of all the stupid, dumb, idiotic, brainless, moronic, senseless mortals to get the power to interact with you, you get the mongoloid!" Theiyll cursed himself for ever getting involved in this lunacy, and praying to whatever dark spirits might be listening that this didn't end absolutely terribly, slipped in behind them.
     
  10. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    As soon as she heard the other voice in the room, Tempo erupted upwards with a very slick twist to turn around and face the girl, stopping inches away from her face. "Hello there sweetheart." She gave a million dollar smile, "Wanna save your grandfather?"

    She held out her hand, a scroll unwinding downwards with a small box at the very bottom, "Simply use the small dagger in your hand there and prick your finger, and press it against the box. I'll give you grandfather another 30 years of health, all in return for a favor I'll ask from you in years to come." She smiled similarly to before, entirely ignoring the Grandfather's plea.
     
  11. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "No!" The old man struggled to rise from his rocking chair, but his health had deteriorated too far. Clutching his chest, he sank back down, wheezing. "My darling... you mustn't listen... please, don't think about it!"
    But Seyre wasn't listening. Her mother, her father, her grandmother, they'd all gone. Lost to sickness, to combat, to old age. Her grandfather was the only person she had left in the whole world, and here she was, being given a chance to save him. Tentatively, she slipped the knife from her belt and held it up to the light, raising her other hand.
    "What...?" she said shakily. "What... kind of favor, would you ask for?"

    -------------------------

    "What do you MEAN, we can't go up there!?"
    "I'm sorry," drawled the receptionist who was painting her nails without looking up in the most utterly bored tone imaginable, "Sleeping Jacks Retirement Home's policy states that only relatives of the residents may go upstairs. Would you like me to call my manager?"
    "This is a matter of life and death!"
    "It's a retirement home, sweetie, people die all the time," the receptionist responded without missing a beat. Her voice seemed to have this almost hypnotic dragging tone to it, like the sheer apathy was infectious. It was like a thousand insanely tedious college lectures trapped within a few syllables with each word she spoke, and it wouldn't be hard to believe that this woman could make a blow-by-blow fight review of Gabriel versus Satan seem like the verbal equivalent of watching paint dry.
    Aleitra looked like she was a few seconds from bringing her axe down on the woman's head, before Melt gently moved her aside.
    "Excuse me."
    "All complaints must go in the managerial complaints box just down the hallway to the right," the receptionist said dismissively.

    "Are you sure about this? She looks like a dog's backside with hemorrhoids."

    Melt gave the invisible incubus a look that stated that not only did he agree, but he really didn't want to think about that right now and he wanted this over and done with.

    "I'd... consider it a personal favor if you let us upstairs. I'd appreciate it. A lot."
    Something about his voice made Aleitra look at him, but her axe tingled again and she realized the incubus was working its sorcery. The receptionist looked up - and standing before her was one of the sexiest men she'd ever seen. The look he was giving her was smoldering, and he even licked his lips slightly as the thought of kissing them entered her head with a appetizing tinge.

    "You look ridiculous. Seriously, I've met literal feces - no, I've DUMPED literal feces that are more naturally seductive than you are."

    "I'll let you upstairs, sugar," she cooed in a way that she thought was appealing and raunchy. In actuality, it made her look like she was heavily constipated. "But you gotta give me a reason to look the other way."
    Melt tried very, very hard to hide his disgust. "A-and that would be...?"
    She puckered her lips, and Melt realized that she had a mustache. A sticky mustache at that.
    "Come here, lover."

    "If you puke, I give up. I wouldn't blame you, in the slightest, but - awww, you're nasty. Seriously, seriously, nas - with tongue?! It must be like licking a shoe! No, no, don't pull away now, let her have her fill! ... Okay, pull back. Pull back! Abort, abort, mayday, mayday, she's - is she trying to eat your face? Ew... you're disgusting. Just... okay, find a bathroom, dunk your head in the toilet, and you'll be cleaner than you are right now. Don't talk to me. Just don't."

    If Aleitra had been able to hear anything Theiyll had been saying, she would have agreed with him.
     
  12. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    "It could be anything, but never your life. No no no, that's a big boo boo on my list." She tapped the scroll with her other hand, causing red flames to slowly lick downwards from the top, "Now, either mark it or I will take him. You have until the flames finish."

    She turned to the old man, flashing him an utterly vicious smirk, knowing that she had won regardless of if the girl signed or not. Her wings fluttered ever so slightly in joy of having another contract.
     
  13. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "Please..." her grandfather croaked. "Please... Seyre, no... don't give yourself over to her... let me die, I have served my time! Please..."
    Seyre looked at her last link to the world, her last surviving family, the man who had doted on her in his infancy, and the man who lay there needing her help. She raised the knife, and it touched her fingertip.

    "REGULFE ANNOCH KETOUL!"
    An invisible force suddenly sprung up between her and the parchment, knocking her back into the wall. To Tempo, however, it was clear what had happened. A protective shield, spun into existence in the Aether, dividing her magics from encircling the girl. It was paltry, hardly a real obstacle, but a nuisance regardless. Even as it began to disintegrate, the door slammed against the wall as two strangers burst into the room. What Tempo could see, that neither Seyre nor her grandfather could not, was that a floating incubus hovered above their heads, looking terrified.
    "Okay, first things first," he said hastily that only Tempo could hear, "I'm not with them!"

    Melt immediately opened his hand. "Theiyll, bamoch lokai!"
    "Oh hell -"
    Theiyll felt the magic seize him and drag him into the physical world, rendering him visible to the two humans within. "Okay," he sighed, hanging his head. "I'm with the idiot."

    "A sword or something would be great!"
    "Alright, alright, but I'm so not enjoying this!" The squat little demon seemed to blur, a whirling mass of color, before a long simple-enough longsword was clenched in Melt's hand. Aleitra raised Gurahl, and the holy power radiating from the weapon seemed to fill the entire room with a stifling burning light, almost too hot for Tempo's comfort and making her feel like her body was underwater just from being near it.
    "You will not take these people, in the name of God!"

    "And in the name of making what I had to do to get up here worth it!"
    "Shut up and tend to the girl!"
    "Got it, got it..." As Melt hurried off to check on Seyre, Aleitra approached Tempo with the double-bladed axe drawn back to strike. "Begone from this place in the name of our Lord, in the name of his Flesh and Blood who perished for our protection from evil such as thee!"
    "Jeez, a simple "Sod off" would have sufficed," Melt's "sword" grumbled. "Righteousness just gives most demons a headache."
     
    #13 MateusseDarkslight, Mar 28, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 28, 2018
  14. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    As soon as she was stopped, a very deep and angry growl emitted itself from Tempo's throat. "Who dares stop a contract from being made?!"
    She pointed at the incubus, uttering her final words, "You're dead. But first, he's dead."

    With almost blinding speed, she seemed to be thrust backwards beside the old man whom she grabbed by the arm. She then proceeded to wrap her other arm around the man and threw herself against the nearby wall, rather casually just going through it and taking flight.
     
  15. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "Get back here!" Aleitra charged after her, swinging Gurahl in wide sweeping arcs to dispel any sort of retaliatory blasts.
    "Hey," Melt murmured gently, "you okay?" Seyre stared at him. "Save my grandfather," she said weakly, unable to process anything else. "Please save him. Please save him, please save him, he's all I have left, please..."
    Melt had a moment of indecision, before rising to his feet -
    "No no no no no no no no no-!"
    - and charging off after Aleitra.
    "SATAN DAMN IT!"
     
  16. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    Tempo just kinda kept above the ground and rather far out of reach. While staring at the intruders, she unhinged her jaw, collapsing it around the old man's throat in a single, swift motion. Upon re-hinging her jaw, she chose not to consume the entire body, but to leave a message. To do that, she simply dropped the now corpse from the height at which she was, allowing it to freefall to the ground.
     
  17. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "You monster!" Aleitra swung her axe in impotent rage, glowering up at Tempo. "Cowardly craven beast! Get back here and fight us!"
    "Us? Er, I think you got your wording wrong, lady, there is no -us-. There is you, and this douchebag, and I am an innocent bystander dragged into this against my will!"
    "You are not helpful at all, sometimes," Melt sighed, before leveling his reluctant demon sword at the hovering demoness. "Identify yourself! What's your name?" He was hoping this demon was stupid. Chances are it wasn't, but it wouldn't hurt to try.
     
  18. Nejat Defender of the Morgue

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    Tempo just looked down at the incubus, staring deep into its... soul..?
    "Nem. My name is Nem. And that man's death was on your hands." She turns her gaze to the holy pig, "Next time you interrupt a deal, you won't be let off so easy."
     
  19. MateusseDarkslight Trophy Hunter

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    "Guessing that's not your true name. Well, going to try and work with it. Nem, absolom departei, forore mortalis atoncei!" The words of power seemed to have physical presence, pushing against her with just a little force, trying to push her out of the mortal realm towards the Aether or the spirit world. "Go on, off with you!"
     
  20. Spyton I Got A Trophy!

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    In the middle of dull moments of his work he casually looks towards the pitch black sky to see the dark clouds that so often embraced the wasteland. "It may be a long lost hobby, cloud watching" he muses to himself, quietely "I think I will keep it alive for now at least."

    During one of his many lulls in his work he senses a change in the energy his body is consuming for magic, Instead of the dull energy of the dying land, or the meager magic of the humans around him, he feels the power of a being changing the nature of the air to be Different. He could tell where the difference came from. For some reason it seemed to him the energy was calling to him as a beacon, maybe one of the side effects of his spectral banner?

    He squints briefly towards the area he senses the energy coming from before shaking his head and raising his hand to tap his forehead lightly and saying a single word "Mosus". The air in front of him seems to crystallize making the sound of a distressed frozen lake as some one steps upon it. A facet about two feet wide faces him with multiple side facets showing differing angles from the spells exit point. The exit point revealing details of the origin point as well.

    in about a second he takes in the images and several thoughts race through his mind
    The front facet shows from a fairly high angle, The demoness seemingly effortlessly floating through the air
    In his head he thinks "That is a rather tall woman floating through the air" A short pause in thought
    "Correction that is a Demon floating through the air.... the wings are a dead give away" He blandly corrects himself....
    "Speaking of dead." He thinks after his attention grazes to a facet showing A man who is lying on the ground far below. His throat is ripped out, though he can barely see it from the distance.
    "Her handiwork no doubt"

    In one of the side facets a Man carrying a sword accompanied by a woman brandishing an axe that to him is shrouded in a faint light.
    "Demon hunters, I would guess at least. Most sane humans do not run towards demons so yeah most likely demon hunters."
    A smaller facet catches the bronze body of the Incubus. "That is a strange place to put a statue." he thinks "Who commissions these things?"

    At this moment he relaxes his concentration, only to begin hearing the inane comments of the people near him. He looks around to see none of them had been talking. "Why can I hear so many of you....." He thought shortly. A realization hits him. His magic does sometimes: Though rarely, intermingle and create new effects when he is supplying multiple spells with energy. "Could it be that The banner and the warping spell are allowing me to read peoples minds?"

    A ragged looking man stops limping by and says
    "Reading peoples minds? Where did that come from?"

    "Ah crap...I should end this before some one rea" The Banner fades out of existence at this point. The thought cut off midway through.

    *His eyes dart from side to side, before returning to the multifaceted air before him*

    *Edited portion OOT The Warp Viewing Spell is not supposed to be very observable in the way it was cast this time, meaning, if you do not want your character(s) to notice it they can very easily overlook it. In fact If your character is not looking particularly up, they most likely will miss it.
     
    #20 Spyton, Mar 28, 2018
    Last edited: Mar 28, 2018

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