Amos coughed as he awoke from his slumber, drink and late nights out never mixed. He might have learned that, after centuries, he in fact could get drunk, to stay away from alcohol but he liked the taste. It wasn't as good as Nectar, what was, but it was the only thing the humans could come up with. It numbed him, made him forget, made him seem human for awhile. Then he'd sleep it off, and be back to square one.

"Good morning." came a soft voice next to him.

Amos turned to look at the women next to him, "Morning." he replied in a tired voice. His memory was coming back to him again, they had found each other last night in some bar, and one thing led to another. Only rarely did Amos succumb to such bodily pleasures, but with little to do anymore and no major wars to fight in, one could fall easily to seduction. The women, whose name escaped him, was very pretty and he was sure they had a good time with one another but it was time for him to go.

He started to get up and collect his things. When he was dressed he turned to the women, who was sitting up and stretching.

"It was fun, but I should be going now. Goodbye." he started towards the door.

"Where will you go, Hank?" came her voice.

Amos stopped, Hank was his current persona, did he actually tell her that? Oh well. "Wherever the road takes me." Came his somber reply and then he left the room.

As soon as Amos left the small apartment building, he began to feel strange. It was a new sensation to him, like someone was slowly lighting a fire inside of him. It grew and grew and Amos found himself panicking. The alcohol was finally catching up to him it seemed, burning his insides! He collapsed onto his knees, he felt cold stone beneath his hands but it did little to relieve his pain. He began to wretch, throwing up what little contents he had in his stomach, before shutting his eyes. It felt like he was going to explode from heat and fire, that he would truly die and not come back and it terrified him, he had never felt such pain in his existence.

Then it was over.

The fire had burnt out as quickly as it had came, leaving him in a state of- calm? He felt better, much better then before. He opened his eyes and could see. He could see the smallest details in the pavement, and when he looked up he could see everything with a new clarity he had forgotten. It all began to click, the burning sensation wasn't of malice or alcohol, no, it was his powers returning.

Amos began to laugh out loud in the street, a great hearty laugh the likes of which rang pure, and one he had no heard from himself in such a long time. Amos the God of Valor had returned! But what did this truly mean? Were the gates of heaven open once more? Had the traitorous Death finally come to his senses? There was only one way to find out, he needed his sword. He reached out his hand and spoke,

"Cerbanis! I summon thee!" With giddy excitement. But he waited and waited and his sword did not come.

Where on Earth had he left it?

Standing before the small mirror, Fiala ran her fingers repeatedly through her short blue hair, fluffing it a little as it dried. She had recoloured it just two days earlier: this was her favourite time, when the colour was at its most vibrant. Her stylist had done an amazing job with it, too - layering her hair just perfectly, cutting it in just the right way to frame her face. She couldn't be happier with the way she looked.

When she was content with admiring herself, Fiala pulled on an oversized t-shirt and exited the bathroom, taking just two steps down the hall before entering the bedroom. The room was filled with a thin haze, just enough to be noticeable from the hallway but easily forgettable once the door was closed. Pete was still lying on the bare mattress, the smoke from his cigarette mingling with the cone incense and contributing to the haze. He sat up as she entered, and beckoned her back to bed. She obliged without hesitation.

Half an hour later, she rose again, and began collecting her clothing to prepare for the day. "It's supposed to be hot today, right?" She didn't wait for an answer before pulling on a white floral crop top.

"Yeah." Pete sat up in bed as he lit another cigarette. "Hey, Lenore... I got a question for you."

"Hm?" She looked over her shoulder as she slathered on his deodorant.

"I, uh... got an extra key made. It's yours if you want it."

Smiling, she sat on the mattress and plucked the cigarette from his mouth. She puffed away as he stood, fumbled through a nearby pair of jeans, and produced a silver key. Without a word, she traded the cigarette for the key.

Then it was Pete's turn to get ready for the day. Fiala could hear him singing in the shower down the hall, loudly and off key. She couldn't help but smirk as she pulled on her boots and glanced at the guitar-shaped wall clock. With practiced speed, she pulled several books off the shelf, pocketed the money tucked between the pages, and replaced them all as if nothing happened. She slipped on his favourite jacket, snapped on his wristwatch, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and left the hazy room. The last thing she did before exiting the small apartment was drop the silver key on the carpet, a near-silent "Oops" slipping through her lips.

Walking down the street below, Fiala lit a cigarette. She couldn't help but think that she had been moving faster than usual while making her getaway. She meditated on this a bit, unsure of what to make of it - it was probably her imagination. To be sure, she glanced at her new watch.

No, that can't be right.

She threw down her cigarette and lit another as she turned a corner.

She died.

She was eternal, immortal and all encompassing, and yet, she died. Died a slow, agonizing death.

Worse.

She was still dying, and there seemed to be no end in sight. When the gates to Heaven were locked, Hiraga's suffering could never be described in words, mortal or divine. Ever since then, she was sentenced to a life of a quadriplegic, that was the closest analogy the Guardian could think of. She made herself one with the Earth. It was her body. She was the soil the mortals treaded, she was the water that banished their thirst and the hand that fed them.

She felt everything that happened to the beautiful blue world, and then, with a turn of a key, it was all taken away, and she was numb. Cursed to see the world through her eyes only, banished to a human looking shell, and unable to stop anyone from harming the beauty of the fragile world. She wished Death came for her just like he tended to the mortals. she wanted him to come, take away her pains and anguish, and allow her to move on. Finish the job! she often cursed at him. She could find no reason to be punished like this, doomed to an eternal life of a dying, crippled being.

Over the eons, the anguish and the depression subsided, eventually even her anger at Desius. She could see his reasoning, albeit not agreeing with it. The recent era has even allowed her to start tending to the world again in some manner, with the now dominant humanity starting to care for the planet they were slowly making to kill them off. And, she had to admit, there was the silver lining of not having to feel the world suffer. She could imagine that two world wars, half a thousand nuclear weapon tests, several nuclear powerplant events and oil spills would have left her feeling cranky at times.

Who knew if she would have been patient enough with humanity to see them reach for the heavens and stand on the surface of the tomb where her father slept, and now cast their sight to one of the dead planets orbiting her mother.

Still, it couldn't get her motivated enough to get up early in the morning. It was 9:45, and Hiraga, or rather Sharon Woods, was entertaining the thought of silencing the alarm clock (snoozed three times by 15 minutes) with an inventive use of a picture frame.

Sleep was another of those pesky things that came with being an immortal being that was denied the source of heavenly powers. And unlike the mortals, coffee helped pathetic little to one of her own kind.

As she got up though, she had to wonder if she was finally getting used to the beverage. She always had to make it strong enough not to need a mug, and for little effect. Today she used up what was left in the can, and yet she was starting to feel refreshed. Slipping into her suit she checked her schedule. She was free until eleven when she had to go play an environmental consultant again, so she decided to take the scenic route and-

-ram into what must have been a jogger just as she was turning a corner. The papers she was carrying created a spectacular fountain in the air, gently kissing the surface of a muddy puddle, another one landing in dog turd and Hiraga herself banging her head on the mail box behind her.

Rotten luck.

@mercenarius

With her preoccupation with what must have been a mistake about her speed, and her focus on getting the second cigarette lit, Fiala didn't even realize what happened until after the two had collided. A flurry of papers suddenly surrounded her. The cigarette flew from her hand, and she became aware that it was falling toward a pile of papers that hadn't already met an unfortunate fate. A grimace crossed her face as she crossed her fingers - a terrible habit she'd picked up from humanity, a superstition she knew didn't work, but somehow helped her to feel more in control of a given situation. Don'tburnthepapersdon'tburnthepapersdon't -

The cigarette fell harmlessly beside the pile, leaving it untouched by her dirty fire.

Fiala raised an eyebrow, and let out a short laugh, not fully believing her eyes. "No fuckin' way."

Bending over to collect what had fallen, she only then noticed the woman who ran into her, now bracing herself against a mailbox. She looked familiar... but in the moment, Fiala couldn't place her, other than she wasn't someone close to Pete (which, to be honest, was all she immediately cared about). Fiala flicked the cigarette carefully into the street and collected what papers she could, purposely avoiding sheets that were wet or... otherwise compromised. Bundling the papers into one arm, she approached the woman and offered her free hand.

"Sorry about that - you okay?" She smiled as warmly as she could given the situation. She figured she could spare a few moments to make sure this woman was okay before continuing on. "Hopefully nothing too important got - well, you know." She thought about adding that the woman should maybe slow down a bit next time, but glancing at her watch again, Fiala couldn't be certain that it wasn't her fault to begin with, and that last thing she wanted was to piss off this woman even more.

His hunt for Hollow led Death throughout the city. The spirit was infamous in the underworld for being a mischievous bugger, but he never would have imagined the damn thing to pull a stunt like he had. Death hated the that he had been duped by a spirit, one of the lowliest creatures in existence. It was just a shadow of something that it had once been, whether man or animal, or worse.

He was getting closer, or so his shades had said, "Not far now master, not far at all."
He replied in a hiss, "That's what you said five minutes ago!"
The shades shrugged and zipped off again into the shadows. They had better be right.

What most perplexed him was how Hollow was hiding from him. In usual circumstances when a spirit went haywire, he'd be able to track it quite easily, but these weren't normal circumstances. Hollow was somehow masking his presence from him. An ability he did not think spirits possessed, at least one of Hollows caliber. It was almost as if... No, he shook his head, that couldn't be possible. Or could it? Many things had come and gone, but could they return?

The shades zipped back to him frantically, "Master, he is here, he is here!"
"Where?" he asked, looking around. He was in a rundown part of town, far away from the festival. The eery quietness might have been unnerving to a mortal but it only told Death that something amiss was near.

Then he heard the tall tale sign of Hollow, his insufferable laughing.

"Hellow Death!" Came the spirit from behind him, "The key! The key! Have you come for your key?"

Death turned around, coming face to face with the spirit Hollow. He was wearing, he did a double take, Hollow was wearing a white cloth and hovering off the ground. Like a child wearing a ghost costume, yet it had no eye slots. A ghostly hand shot from the cloth, carrying a large bone key. The spirit dangled before it before him.

Death started, but stopped when Hollow fluttered backwards, he spoke agitated, "Give me the key Hollow, your prank its causing me a headache."

The spirit laughed again, "No No No! Not quite yet! Not when the others have not met!" Hollow laughed again, the cloth rippling in response. "They must come. They must come!"

Death opened his mouth to reply but was cut short when Hollow revealed another item within his opposite hand. It was a small bell. Death eyes grew wide, and then before he could react, Hollow rung the bell. It was a high pitched sound, only audible by those with a heightened sense, and very God would hear it. If they hadn't already figured out their powers were back, they would now. Yet worse, they could pinpoint the location of the bell, such an item had only been used in Heaven, as a gathering tool. Yet Hollow had one.

The spirit began to laugh, Death lunged at him but only met thin air as he landed on the pavement. He smashed his fist into the ground, leaving a sizable indent. Hollow was still there, he could feel the bell. The damn spirit had baited him into two choices, leave or pursue. He brushed himself of the ground, and grumbled, it had to happen eventually.

Nine Pm
New York National museum

"Hey Dave?" "What is it Jack?" "Why do we always get the sucky job of guarding the weapons exhibit?" "No damn clu-" *crack* "Dave?" *phew*

As the body of the guard hit the floor, the killers came out. Two men in black suits came into the exhibit and flanked the entrance. Then He entered. Goehearth, as a large brutish mob boss, came in with a evil, satisfied look on his face. He looked to his guards. "Great job boys! You'll get first pick of one weapon from this exhibit for a friend of mine to fix up. Then call the others in to drag out the bodies and clean up." The guards went into a frenzy, their faces glowing with greed. "Thanks Boss! One question tho". Goehearth turned a step from the mace's case. "Yes my loyal human guard?" The guard then gulped. "I know you got your memories and powers of a god back and all, so why use us to get your mace?" Goehearth simply cackled. "Because I don't want my presence known just yet. I'm bringing in old friends and would like to find my siblings and children first." "Oh, that makes sense." and the guard started his looting. Goehearth then turned to Vale Splitter, his eyes glowing in anticipation. His broke the glass and picked it up with his right hand. Immediatly, it molded to it's former splendor. Metal flakes formed in mid air and reshaped the weapon, while the rust and corrosion fell off like a liquid. When it finally finished, a red glow came from the facets and it's transformation complete. Goehearth shivered and sighed in relief, knowing the magic he once knew came back to his hands. He decided he needed a 'reaffirmation' of it's power. He looked and saw his guards eyeing decent weapons, both actually having some magic to them. He then saw a museum guard at the entrance. "Boys, it looks like we have a guest...bring him in so I can welcome him." The guards immediately made for the security officer, who they roughed up and dragged to their boss. The employee cowered in the shadow of Goehearth, and he smiled wickedly. "Do you know who I am?
and I mean really know?" The man made a squeak then cleared his throat. "You're William the Troll, the crime boss known for his brutal victims." Goehearth laughed heartily. The guards laughed too. "That is my current persona, but sadly no,
you are incorrect. Tell, what do you know of the oldest known gods?" The man seemed confused. "Why only what I hear from the big-wigs. And all that is nothing but theories. Why?" Goehearth leaned forward "Because we exist and you humans forgot" and he uppercut the man with the mace causing him to explode. He looked at his guards and said "Bring in clean up and finish and leave in one hour. Leave no evidence." and with that left the museum

That's when he heard it.

"Most certainly a fucking way, me in yours, apparently." Hiraga groaned for herself. The groan was a mocked one, the bump on her head hardly fazed her, but she has gotten used to playing the role after so many years her head might have as well hurt for real. The blunette klutz then seemed to want to do right by her by collecting her stuff rather than helping her up, but at least the individuum was trying.

"Nothing important save the back of my head. Where are you hurrying this fine day, lass?" She said with a warm smile. She reached out for the bundle of undamaged papers: "You should give those up, you know. Not only does it pollute your lungs, but also the air and you're littering." she noted when she saw the cigarette being discarded so casually. And then, their hands touched. Hiraga felt as if a spark jumped between the two of them, a force that she didn't feel for so long she had trouble placing it. Well, at least she thought it felt familiar. Were the eons of being cast down to earth finally taking her toll?

Then the bell rang, or at least she thought so. Looking curiously in the direction of the sound, she wondered what could have made it - there was no church tower or town hall in sight.

Fiala couldn't restrain a laugh at the stranger's concern. "I don't do it often, so I think my lungs will be okay. But thanks." As she linked hands with the woman, she felt a familiar warmth pass through her, a sensation she had all but forgotten over thousands of years. Could it be - no. Surely she was imagining things, or there must be some sort of mistake. It was the thrill of her escape, the shock of bumping into someone like this so unexpectedly. The confusion about her speed, about the cigarette landing just perfectly -

But as the woman continued, Fiala knew that her speed wasn't imagined. Looking around now, and glancing one more time at her watch, she realized that she must have been moving faster to have walked this far in that short amount of time. Where are you hurrying this fine day, lass?

Fiala tried to mask her true reaction by putting on the most sheepish expression she could manage. She hesitated a moment, trying to come up with a plausible-sounding answer to the question. Why, I just robbed my boyfriend, ma'am, and I was making my getaway. No, definitely not something she wanted to admit right now.

Then she heard the bell, a beautiful sound that haunted her dreams, even to this day. She nearly snapped her neck turning to look in the direction from which it came. Her smile faded. She long since tried to forget that sound, thinking she would never hear the bell again. But she couldn't forget... and here she was, being called once again.

So it was true.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman turn to look in the same direction; although the expression on her face was much less serious, as if she didn't understand the significance of the call. Fiala took a deep breath. She couldn't have orchestrated a better deus ex machina herself. Confident that she no longer had to answer the question, and figuring she had nothing to lose, Fiala took a gamble and turned her gaze back to the other woman.

"You heard it too." She spoke softly as she took the stranger's hand again. She felt the same warmth as before; this time, she knew it was real. "We need to go. My name is Fiala."

Just like that, with the ring of a bell, a touch, and a few words, Hiraga understood. Hiraga was awake once again. It was slow, almost as if blood was returning to a leg she have been sitting on for several hours. Slowly, but surely, she could feel again. First it was the ground - trampled beneath the feet of thousands, suffocated by pavement and raped by piping, sewage and the subway. Then came the water, poisoned by so much waste only to be resuscitated again industrially, kept alive only as much as she was when Death took away her senses. Last came the air, coughing and suffocating, seared from above, barely able to shield itself.

As she took a breath, her numb sense of her Earthly body was slowly coming to, the area she could feel slowly spreading away from her in a sphere. Hiraga couldn't stop a silly smile from plastering itself all over her face. "I was asleep, but now I'm free~" she sung euphorically.

Oh? The young one was speaking. Forget it, all of them are young.

Hiraga gripped Fiala's hand a little more tightly. "I remember... A very long time ago. You were one of the kinder of us. Will you make me laugh again, like you used to, little sister?" Hiraga inquired, not yet connecting the dots between the bell and Fiala wanting to go somewhere.

Fiala couldn't help but laugh at her sister's awakening. She recognized her voice and manner of speaking, and she was overjoyed that of all the strangers in this city, Hiraga was the one she bumped into. It definitely could have been worse - Hiraga was one sibling with which Fiala had always more or less got along with, and even played with on Earth. Her mind was suddenly flooded with pleasant memories they shared, her sister's patience and even amusement at her antics.

What luck, right? Fiala laughed even harder at the thought.

"Of course I will - c'mon." The call could wait - now, it was time to play.

Over thousands of years, Fiala watched humanity grow and advance, and she had spent more nights than she could count lying awake and fantasizing about all the new ways she could play. One of her favourite fantasies was messing with new technology - although she never knew how much power she actually held over those things, or even if she could influence them at all. But Hiraga wanted to laugh, and she wanted to play. What better time to experiment?

Fiala held her sister's hand even tighter and started guiding her down the street, trying to keep her speed in check. That would be something she'd have to get used to again. She kept going until she saw a man in a suit and briefcase walking on the other side of the street. He appeared to be in some sort of hurry. At the same time, a car was speeding down the road. Perfect.

"Watch this."

As the car passed the man, Fiala tilted her head slightly. The steering wheel tilted slightly, just enough for the car to hit a muddy puddle on the side of the road. The water splashed up, and the man just barely got his briefcase up in time to block most of it from hitting him. Irritated, he pulled out his cellphone, dialed a number and held it to his ear. Fiala inhaled slightly. A moment later, the man looked at his phone again. "Seriously??"

Fiala lifted a hand to her mouth to muffle her giggles. "Holy shit, it worked." Maaaan did that feel good.

The driver simply looked confused. "Boss? Why so sudden a trip?" Goehearth's eyes blazed. "Just do it, blood bag!"
The driver had never seen him this infuriated before. He scrambled for the wheel and drove as fast as possible without drawing suspicion. He got to the air strip quickly, and a plane waited on Goehearth. He ran towards it and told them to head to Olympia, Oregon.

Within a couple of hours he was coming the streets of a small town outside city limits. His car drove by a gas station, and then "STOP!!! Here." He ran out of the car and examined the area.

Death had been here.

Goehearth turned to his guards. He couldn't expect them to be able to assist, let alone keep up with him if he went into his true form. He motioned for them to come to him. "You three, how would you feel if I took away your humanity?" The guards exchanged terrified glances, when the more experienced one said "How do you plan to do that boss? and what for?". Goehearth cackled, scaring the inhabitants of the gas station. "Why, replace your body with that of a Vile, and so you can assist me in a hunt." The younger of the guards looked like he was going to wet himself. But the other two simply went straight faced and stood proudly. "We are already you current servants, my Lord"

"Perfect" he said with insane glee.

Pain was all they felt. Pain was the only thing worth enduring, anything for their god. Chaos is their lord and they are grateful for his dark gift.

When the rose, the three guards were lizard-like bird men, with horns and a toothed beak. They suits were tattered due to their transformation. Their eyes were a pestilent green, like emerald orbs glowing in the darkness. Goehearth laughed manically. His form blazed and shifted, and he revealed his true form. He walked from the flames as a beast, but one of beautiful entropy than vicious horror. He laughed in a deep hissing voice. "Well Death, I hope you have had your fun, but we need to have a talk!" and took Vale Splitter and destroyed the gas station, and made sure his driver was still sane. His driver was simply horrified, but other wise unharmed in the vehicle. "Wait near the safe house in Olympia." and he and his new Vile started of into the dusk.

@Lord Zee

Amos was running, faster and faster, his feet barely touching the ground. The wind roared defiantly, his hair was perpetually flung back. It had been so long since he could truly use his legs, his powers. The God's smile was ear to ear, but it was a bittersweet happiness. He had been running just for the sake of running, he had no idea where he was anymore. Shortly after his powers reconnected with himself, he took off in a random direction. All the while he was letting instinct guide him while he thought of his weapon.

Amos remembered what had happened. It had been a cruel fate centuries ago, he had lost all of his powers and was fighting somewhere in Europe, he didn't know where exactly. Regardless, Amos remembered being overwhelmed, a feat that was by no means easy for humans and he was killed, but did not die. He awoke later, perfectly find but Cerbanis was gone. He searched for decades trying to reunite himself with it but to no avail. He didn't want to give up, that wasn't how he did things, but Amos knew he would find it again one day so he put it at the back of his mind, until now.

His sword, the extension of himself, wasn't going to be easy to track down. Thankfully, with his powers returned, certain sources were once again available to him. Amos slowed, then stopped. His running had taken him far, he was in a different part of the country, no doubt about it. The masses of trees before him gave way to the small beauty that was Earth. It was the wild places, the ones Humans seldom wondered, where he felt at peace. It painfully reminded him of home and a frown struck his face. He walked through the trees until he reached a small clearing, feeling satisfied, he called out.

"Hear me spirits! Fairies! Any creatures! Come forth and show yourselves!" His commanding voice, now heightened by the return of his powers, rang clear through the forest. In no time at all, he was surrounded by a menagerie of the supernatural. Creatures he never thought he would see again. There were fairies with their bright colored bodies, nature spirits of all varieties, and even a couple of dryads.

A blue fairy, with hummingbird wings fluttered at eye level with him and spoke in a high pitched voice. "My lord! Have you felt it? The gates have opened, magical energy is flowing again! Happy we are!"

Amos stretched out his hand and the fairy landed, instantly its color erupted into a brighter blue. "It is wonderful is it not? But I can not see them with my own eyes to truly gaze upon their glory once more. You see, I have lost what is dear to me, my sword. I ask you all, but a task, help me find my sword? I can reward you all greatly if you can find it."

There was a murmur of excitement in the clearing as fairies whipped back and forth talking and laughing. Such mirth was good to hear, but Amos had pressing matters to attend to. Not soon after he had requested help, many fairies came forth, including the blue one, and said they would gladly help him. He thanked them, and gave a small boon. A bit of energy for the forest in the form of a small golden ball. It didn't look like much, but put to good use, it could do wonders. One of the dryads took it graciously and they all departed.

Then Amos heard the bell. A wave of nostalgia and memories swept over him, of the times when the bell was heard across the Heaven's. Of all the Gods gathering in the Hall of Twilight, built in reverence for his mother and father. He could tell exactly where the Bell had been rung, but by who and what purpose? There was only one way to find out, and with that, Amos began to run again. The fairies would have to find their way to him.



It had been an ordinary day in the life of a young adult.

Keyla had gotten up, gotten dressed, ate breakfast, and left for the festival with her family. The annual festival in the town of Maybell, Oregon was celebrated by townsfolk and the surrounding counties, each and every summer for the last fifty years or so. This one would mark her nineteenth year attending, and it never ceased to amaze her what people could do. Somehow the city planners always wanted to outdo the previous year and this had become the norm for the last ten years are so.

Everything had been going so well, they day was warm, the breeze was cool, and the town was alive with activity. Then she saw him, from a distance walking through the park, an old man wearing clothes that were old. She had to blink to really see if what she was looking at was real, and it was, for she was not the only person to stop and stare at the man. Eventually he wandered off, but Keyla couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen and no matter how much she tried to shrug it off, her mind came back to his visage.

It was around noon when it happened. There she was, standing in the midst of some vendors with friends when she heard it, a clear ringing bell that resonated into her very heart. She instinctively asked if the others had heard a bell, and to her surprise, no one had. In fact, when she looked around, it seemed that no one had. Somehow she had heard a bell, and somehow, she knew exactly where it had rang. In Maybell, and it wasn't far away. She hesitated, how could she know that? Curiosity took hold, and against her better judgment she excused herself from her friends stating she had to go to the bathroom, and left towards the origin.

It was farther then she assumed, and led her to the part of town that many thought should be torn down and rebuilt. It was eerily deserted as she walked down the streets, everyone was probably at the festival she told herself. Once again, the feeling that something bad was going to happen permeated her soul and when she rounded a corner she saw him, the old man. He was standing in the middle of the street to her right, brushing himself off and scowling. There was a large indent in the street next to him, it looked like a pothole. Then without warning he looked at her now frowning. Panic gripped her heart but the man did not move, instead he opened his mouth to talk.

"So soon. Well, which one are you then?" He asked her.

@Lord Zee

"RRRRGGGHHHAAAAA....DEEEAAATTTHHH?! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The small town he saw having a festival not to far in the distance infuriated Goehearth beyond his own comprehension. The humans would simply think it was the wind when they heard his roar of rage, but any supernatural entity would know better he knew. If Death was nearby, than he was either running or hiding, but Goehearth was not going to bet on it. During the many times he played Death at chess, Death had drawn him in with unusual tactics. The game began. The new Vile were anxious and fidgety, looking at their new bodies and putting cuts in the road. "My improved warriors. Go into the town undetected and find Death. He would look human, but out of place most likely. Then report back to me. And control yourselves when dealing with humans. You have yet to fully expereince your bodies." The three Vile turned to their god and stood tall, but still smaller than their boss's true form. "Yess bosss. We won't disssapoint you!" the lead one said and the three were off.

I'm on your tail death, then we can figure this out, the old fashioned way...

Brod took a nice deep inhale of the cigar clasped in his lips. One of his powerful arms was held perfectly still while the other swung his hammer down onto the glowing metal. The clang echoed out into the crowd of the festival as he worked. People, namely teens and children, were looking over the silvery sheened weapons laid out on a display. Knives, daggers, broadswords, long-swords, axes, maces, any ancient styled medieval weaponry. They were probably more used to clunky misshapen things. He had been to a faire in New England and the blades were thick, clunky, and overweight. Wall hangers, the most appalling creations. A snort sent the smoke of his cigar out of his nose while he slid the metal blade back into the hot coals to reheat.

Oddly golden eyes looked out at the crowd with a dull look, something most people associated with a cow. Completely empty like no one was home. The poor giant was dreadfully bored, he really needed to do something worthwhile before he went crazy. He had made so many designs for weapons, improved the designs of armor to their peak for their specific materials. Hell he had even made the classic steel plate armor bullet proof just to fuck with the military of the various countries of the world.

Grunting and rolling his shoulder, Brod used the tongs to take out the metal before resuming his hammering. Each strike was expertly placed to shape the blade as he wished. A saber was taking form faster than most of these people had seen. Modern day smiths without their hydraulic hammers took a day or more to make a single weapon. It was taking him an hour to make a three foot long saber. Mid-stroke he felt an odd warmth, something that he hadn't felt in centuries...or was it millennia? Was the vacation finally over? Thankfully he kept to his human form instead of returning to his Godly self. But his eyes glanced up to take a brief look around. Nothing had changed in the physical world that he could feel.

Shortly after the warm tingling he heard that damned ringing. The weird summoning bell followed by a yell from a voice he recognized. That voice received a grimace while Brod doused the nearly finished blade in oil, making a brief flash of fire. "Alright, get goin ya runts." He growled out, his voice almost painful to listen to due to how deep it was. While he spoke he packed up his more pricey weapons in a steel chest. It was already pretty packed full and was heavy enough someone would need a fork-lift just to move it. The lock was crafted by him and he doubted short of a tank someone would be able to break it or pick it.

Looks like I have some hunting to do... He thought grumpily while putting his smithing hammer in the loop at his thigh. He put up an out to lunch sign on his forge before he walked off. His immense stride taking him along towards where the bell had rung and probably where that damned voice had hollered from.

A giggle escaped Hiraga's lips as she watched Fiala cause mishaps. She had to admire how thorough she was with making the man feel uncomfortable, and yet not really harming him in any way, other than the cleaning bill for the suit. "You know... It is a very nice day out here. Wouldn't it be a shame if it started raining?" she said, raising her hands, palms up. Within half a minute the skies turned dark under the veil of the clouds, and the mother of all downpours started to soak all the humans running around in shorts, sandals and sundresses, with the exception of where the two sisters stood.

Suddenly though, a fairy came seemingly from nowhere and sat down on Hiraga's shoulder. the little being leaned closer, and whispered to her ear. Focusing on her senses, she could feel them already. "Say, where was it you wanted to go? While I do enjoy your pranks, it seems our dear relatives will not give us much time to enjoy ourselves. Already Amos is gearing up, to go bash the gates of Heaven for another few centuries no doubt, unless they are completely open. And Goehearth has already summoned some of his disgusting beings to do who knows what no good." she explained what she felt and what the fairy told her.

Looking up onto a tall building, she tapped Fiala's shoulder: "Let me take you where you need to go, and I'll promise to see you soon."

Stjerne stood on the deck of his japanese home overlooking one of the ponds. He always loved the culture of this land, how they still worshipped old gods and were rather friendly and wise. There was a beauty to this place that drew him in. He believed they were a rather enlightened people. Of course, he helped with that someone but they did most of this on their own while he slept.

He looks up at the night sky, as he often does. The stars... how he wished he could be up there with them again... Using his borealis to bring light and song to the people below. But they too, were sleeping. And vanishing. He wasn't too worried at the moment, for he could not remember how many there were before, but his loyal followers had told him that some have indeed vanished.

As he stared into the sky, arms wrapped around him and he felt himself pulled into a strong chest. It rumbled like thunder as the man behind him spoke, "Come inside, love. The forecast says it will storm soon. Besides, you should get some rest." Stjerne shook his head. "Bah, just tell the storm to go away. I'm stargazing. And I've slept for eons I'll pass on the extra sleep." Stjerne huffed and leaned back into Zencrux.

The larger man shook his head. "Very well, I'll just carry you. See? Maybe you should have trained more, eh? Gotten big and strong like me!" Zencrux chuckles as he carries Stjerne inside. A while later and the pair are enjoying some tea as the rain starts from the shelter of their patio. One of Stjerne's priests, a man named Raiko, is at the table, talking with them. Both gods have become more open with mortals, since the exile, as it's rather lonely being by yourself.

Zencrux, ever in tune with his aspect, reached out a hand to feel the rain, only finding that they simply moved out of his way, as if there was an invisible barrier around his hand. He frowned and put out his other hand and saw the same. "This... He gets up and walks out into the storm. Stjerne blinks at this and calls out to him. "Get back here... You'll- what... How.."

Zencrux smiles, feeling power well within him again. He looks up and lets out a roar, thunder striking down and hitting his outstretched fist. "I feel whole again! Stjerne smiled and got up from the table as well. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, feeling for his long lost creations, and feeling a surge of emotion as they sang out to him, e fell to his knees, their voices loud and incessant. "Father! Papa! King! He's back! He's here! Join us! We miss you! We love you! It's been so long..." He smiles up as Zencrux waved a hand to clear the skies. "I'm here.. I missed you too, my beautiful creations... A moment later they heard it. The Bell. Zencrux frowned at the sound, Stjerne was startled by it. The looked at each other and nodded. Getting their powers back wasn't some accident. and Desious never gave an end date. Calling out to his creations Stjerne lead the way to the sanctuary in the home. Aetherius sat in it's stand in the middle of the room. The opals glittered warmly in the dim light of the room. Zencrux headed for his armor stand to grab his sword. He grunted as he lifted the massive blade and smiled when it suddenly lightened up, warming at his touch. He headed back to Stjerne who was already working on locating the source of their situation.

"My thought is that we look for Death. Aetherius, find me Desious. Hmm... It's in America, looks like Oregon. Grab on Zen, we're going to port over there. With a twinkle, the pair vanished, appearing on the street near the god they were looking for. Zencrux grabbed Stjerne who stumbled at the power usage for such a jump. The smaller man leaked a bit of his power and caused a sudden aurora in the sky above as he regained his bearing.

When the Vile returned mocking each other soon afterwards, Goehearth smiled with glee. "Death isss there, boss. He'sss talking with other godsss in the abandoned part of town." Goehearth cackled deeply. "Excellent, my grand minions!
Leave me now and come and warn me should anything of my children are heard." With a bow of their horrific heads, they turned to smoke. Goehearth turned into his Vile shadow and drifted towards the spot described. He saw Death, a young demigod, Stjerne and Zencrux.
He got right in front of Death before he could notice the shadow, then formed. "Hi Desious!" and he slugged him in the face. Then he bent downwards in his true form and picked death of the ground and bear-hugged him. "You knew it was coming, yet you didn't prepare! Gotten slow in...what's it been? A millennium or two? How you been! Yes I'm angry, but more pissed at the little sprite bastard that woke me up from my delusions!"

Fiala no longer restrained her giddiness as the downpour began. She extended her arms and spun in place, dancing like a child frolicking in a light rain - although as she stepped around, the raindrops veered off course, hitting the pavement and keeping her dry. She didn't pay attention as the man across the street held his briefcase above his head and ran for cover, nor did she care that other people were scrambling to avoid the sudden and dramatic weather change. She didn't even notice when a fairy landed on her sister's shoulder, or the change in Hiraga's expression as the message was delivered. It wasn't until Hiraga spoke again that Fiala realized what happened.

Amos. Fiala loved playing with him when she was still in the Heavens, although he never quite appreciated her games... always took his job so seriously. She thought of him occasionally, mostly to wonder if thousands of years in exile softened him enough to lighten up and enjoy himself a little... although Hiraga's words seemed to indicate otherwise. Still, it would be nice to see him again.

Goehearth, though... Fiala scowled at the utterance of his name. He was never fun. All he wanted was to destroy. Her memories of this brother were tainted with his own twisted games, ruining what seemed like everything in his path. She largely avoided him, even before she descended to Earth; and one of the greatest comforts she'd felt after losing her own powers, was that he, and others like him, had also lost theirs. She hated to think what terrible things he might have planned now that his powers have returned.

Fiala looked to the fairy perched on Hiraga's shoulder, and made a motion as if throwing something. "My daggers - can you find them?" She always hoped she would never need them again - the only real use they ever saw was during the chaos after the Gates were closed - but considering who they would eventually run into, she felt it necessary to be able to protect herself and those around her.

Fiala took her sister's hand again, and looked toward where the ring had come. "The bell we heard - we're being called. All of us are." She couldn't even begin to think about why they were being summoned. Best case, Death came to his senses and was finally allowing them to return home. Worst case...

The sudden burst of wind bore ill tidings, removing his focus on the girl and to more pressing matters. Goehearth was coming, the God of Anarchy. He was one most likely to be upset with what he had done. It didn't take much to upset Goehearth, that was why on many occasions when the God of Anarchy had visited, Death let him have his way. He even lost a small section of the Underworld, something he could afford to lose at the time, to his chaos. It didn't matter anymore, for that section was under his dominion once again. This time, Death would not be so kind, for many events had transpired, some still transpiring, that could hold ramifications for all worlds. It was his solemn duty to protect, and care for what he could. Nothing else mattered anymore.

He looked at the girl again and spoke to her urgently, "I do not know which God you are, but something dark is coming, something... vile. You should leave."

He began to walk away from the town, it would be better to distance himself from humans if any gods wanted to fight.

"Wait!" Keyla shouted. The old man stopped in his tracks, and turned around to look at her. Keyla had moved to the middle of the street, they faced each other now. "Who are you? What are you talking about?" she asked.

Death spoke softly, understanding now what the girl truly was- A demigod. "You poor child... You don't know.. Of course not. Save yourself from trouble girl, go home and forget me. I only bring suffering."

Keyla noted that the man's tone was bitter, but she found herself unwilling to leave. It was almost as if, she had to stay even when all her instincts were screaming at her to run. Whether it was a profound sense or curiosity or something else entirely, Keyla did not know.
But she would get answers. "No. No, I'm not leaving. Now tell me, I beg you, please. I heard a bell, pure and distinct and then somehow, it led me here to you. What don't I know? Who are you?"

Death liked the girl's resolve, it reminded him of Solaria in her youth. Back when she came and they talked.. but no, this girl was not a child of Solaria, that wasn't possible at the time. Death shifted, he was growing weary of staying, Gods were notorious for being quick when they wanted something. He'd have to placate her. "You already know my name child. I am the caretaker, the guider, the bane of all mortal souls. I am Death." The girl's eyes grew wide, but he couldn't tell if she believed him or not. "You heard the Gathering Bell of Heaven, in ancient days it called all Gods together and it has done so again. You my dear, heard the bell because one of your parents had divine blood. Which one, I am not sure. Now you should leave befo-"

He was cut off by the presence of two gods materializing across the street. Both looked very large but one towered above the other, and then the smaller man immediately cast an aurora in the sky. Stjerne and Zencrux had arrived.

Keyla was bewildered. Everything the old man said, couldn't possibly be true. Death wasn't some old guy standing before her. And she had divine blood? What did that even mean. The man was cut off, and in an instant two men appeared across from him. She backed away slightly, again not believing that two men had appeared out of the blue. Coupled with the sudden aurora in the sky she was beginning to breath quickly. Then a monster appeared, and Keyla screamed.

Desious barely felt the punch, though Goehearth was not wrong, he probably did deserve that and more. He patted the God on Anarchy on the back, not really knowing what angle he was playing at. Then Faded physically, and retreated from his grasp, materializing a short distance away. He noticed the girl had fainted, probably from the shock of seeing such a creature as Goehearth. He sighed, "Goehearth, do you not have the common decency to look like a human in the presence of a lady? Or has your wit finally left you these last thousand years?" He pointed at the now unconscious Keyla.

Death then turned towards Stjerne and Zencrux, "Welcome Stjerne. Welcome Zencrux. I'm sure you have questions for me."

@Lord Zee@GrizzTheMauler

Goehearth laughed when he saw the girl. "No, what sanity I do have is still there, but as for common decency, that left with me sorta forgetting everything during exile." He turned to Zencrux and Stjerne. "Hey little brother. I see you're still one for lightning hehe! Hi to you to nephew. Tell me, is your mom still pissed at me for giving her a taste of her own medicine, or have you lost contact with her?"