[IC] Rise of the Archons

[Mirrodin]

Lucas moved through the crowd like a shadow, making his way closer and closer to the large white marble temple at the end of the market street. He was dressed in his normal clothes with a white robe on over them to blend in the the priests in the temple. He had been offered a very generous sum of money to infiltrate the temple and steal an ancient artifact hidden deep within the vaults of the temple. As he walked into the sanctuary he noticed a few civilians among the benches, praying and have hushed conversations between each other.

Lucas made his way across the large room and through one of the doors leading deeper into the marble structure. He passed many of the priests in the halls but none of them stopped him due to his robes and the cowl pulled over his head. He looked as if he belonged in this dark place full of mold and moist air "There must be a fresh source of water down here somewhere" He thought as he continued to stalk the halls. When he finally came to the vault it only took him a few moments to find the artifact he was looking for, A dark golden disk with runes etched all across its surface. He pocketed the item and began making his way back in the direction he had come from, knowing that every second that passed was another second that he could be discovered and the priests would all fall upon him at the same time in an attempt to save their precious artifact.

[Jersh]

Questioning

A man was sat in the most uncomfortable chair he's ever seen, in a windowless room.
Its not an interrogation, just questioning. But why the handcuffs? he thought as he tried to move his hands even a little. Seeing it was fruitless, he put his feet atop the table in front of him. A Chicago PD officer entered the room.
"Feet down. I'd like a little respect here," his voice like gravel in his old age.
"Nah."
"Its not often someone is questioned by the chief."
"Its not often I get questioned at all. I guess we both have the honor."
A loud sigh came from Chief Smith as he began the "questioning".
"Alright. Can you clarify some things for me?"
"Maybe. That depends." the man said in a condescending manner.
"I already have your file. Brynn Jonathan Irons; age twenty two, correct? No known address."
"The first two are right."
"And your address?"
"That's personal."
Another sigh from the officer as he continued.
"On the night of September 30th, where were you?"
"I was working a job. Protection for some guy's kid."
"And did you encounter a Mr. Adrian Warwick?"
Brynn laughed for a second. "I might have. There were a lot of people I encountered."
"Let me clarify, did you harm Mr. Warwick."
"I wouldn't say harm, more of self defense."
The officer got up from the desk a moment and walked around.
"Mr. Irons, Adrian Warwick is a very powerful individual. He can do serious harm to you or those you care about. We're just trying to figure out if he was in the wrong or you were. Were there any cameras or people who can more easily clarify what had happened that night?"
"I doubt it. It was a hit on the guy's daughter and-"
"This 'guy' you are referring to is Senator Bronson, correct?" the officer asks as he writes in his notebook.
"Yeah. Anyway, it was a hit. Warwick got a bunch of junkies with no training whatsoever to try to take out his kid."
"Junkies? Anything in particular you noticed about them."
"A few had the shakes. Withdrawl maybe. Seemed something bad."
"I see," the scratching of the pencil against faded paper continued. "And Warwick? Why was he there?"
"If you want something done right, do it yourself. He was there in case something went wrong. And he did."
"How did you know he'd have to be there?"
Brynn chuckled, "Well that's easy. He came to me with the job first. Tried to low ball me. I went to the Senator and offered to watch his kid for double what Warwick offered. He got wind of that somehow and here we are."

The investigation went on for what seemed like hours. Chief Smith was still sat at the other end of the table with only a few questions left. "Look," he said in a tired tone, "Joseph himself wanted to make sure you wouldn't be arrested, only questioned. You're making it pretty difficult to hold up my end of the deal." Leaning back in the chair and staring at the ceiling, Brynn wasn't really paying attention.
Another loud sigh from the officer as he asked the last of his questions.
"Mr. Irons, you are a Breaker; is that correct?"
"So what if it is?"
"You are aware of the new Act that was just passed? That you have to register?"
"Must have slipped my mind."
"Even if you are his son, we can't have you running around endangering civilians."
"So I'm more dangerous than King? Than the drugged out idiots killing for no reason?"
"I didn't say that. But they aren't freaks-" At the moment the officer uttered that word, Brynn was already standing over him.
"I. Am. Not. A. Freak." he gritted through his teeth as he was slowly breaking the cuffs around his wrists. The sound of metal bending and twisting becoming louder in the silence that followed his words.
"Please, have a seat." Smith said weakly before regaining his composure. "There's only one question left."
Slowly, Brynn sat back down.
"Now Mr. Irons. Some of the...items you were carrying have not been seen for over a hundred years. We were curious where and how you obtained them."
"A trade secret. Can't give that info."
The last sigh from the officer escaped his mouth. "Well Mr. Irons, it seems you are free to go. On the way out you may regain you possessions we confiscated. However, get registered. We can't be this lenient again." Smith unlocked the hand cuffs and escorted Brynn out of the interrogation room.

Strange Customer

"Let's see what we got here," the man at the lock up began as he handed Brynn his belongings, his accent overwhelming at times. "One dark red overcoat; one black helmet; one set of keys; one...sword. A standard issue mark 1911 pistol."
"Its no longer standard issue."
"Right right. This thing is ancient. Good condition though." After gathering the rest of his things, Brynn walked outside and put on his helmet as he mounted his motorbike. The User Interface booted up instantly.
Good evening, User Irons. How can I assist you? the cold voice said cheerfully as Brynn started the engine.
"I need to go home. No location tracking."
Very well, this is the route to Home. Your location data has been deleted and will not be tracked for this session.
Following the map that appeared in the corner of the visor; Brynn made his way home. A short trip it seemed to be. Dismounting the bike in the lane on the sidewalk, he walked toward the door of the shop and looked inside.
A customer? he thought. Shally never has customers. Brynn decided to wait at the side of the shop for them to leave. A man it seems. Covered entirely. A hat too. Not a single inch of skin showing. Not too tall.
After they exited, Brynn entered the shop and was greeted by the shopkeep. "You know, you didn't have to wait. It was actually a job for you," she said, slightly annoyed. "Yeah, I figured. No one that shady comes here looking for old furniture." Dropping a letter into his hand, Shalquior continued. "They seemed pretty suspicious. Didn't give me any info. You aren't mixed up in this gang nonsense, are you?" "What nonsense?" Brynn asked as Shalquior turned on the television.
Two days ago there was an attack on Senator Bronson's personal home. We have recieved reports from both the fire department and the police that the attack started inside the house. Bullet holes and various slash marks as well as blood coated the main hall and most of the upstairs. Surprisingly, the only room untouched by violence was Amelia Bronson's; age five. Several suspects were apprehended while the Senator and his family have been to moved to an undisclosed location.
"Oh. That. Yeah. I did what I was paid to do."
"Right..." Shalquoir retorted as she hopped off the counter. "Open that letter then."
"Fine fine."
Brynn carefully opened the envelope and a few things fell out. A handwritten note, a credit chip, and a disposable phone.
"Credit chip? Some kind of advance?" Brynn said as he read the letter.

Mister Irons & Miss Shalquoir,
We may have found something of interest that pertains to both of you. Come to the address on the device enclosed to find it.
From, an Old Friend.

"What do you think, Shal? A trap?"
The cat sat on the chair thinking for a moment before saying.
"I might have to close up shop for a bit. This may get very interesting."

[Skai]

The sound of loud and obnoxious dance music overwhelmed the entire mansion that inhabited the small moon of Skaia. It was a mansion owned by a very wealthy man named Skarrsgard, and took up the amount of space as two White Houses from the American capitol on planet Terra. The area around the mansion was covered in luminescent bushes, flowers, and other botanical life that could survive on the moon’s surface. A large force field surrounded the large mansion and its gardens, trapping varying gases that could sustain the wildlife and all of the organisms inside of it. A small base was at the end of the long, oblong bubble that encased the large part of land on the moon. It resembled an incredibly large parking deck and was equipped with a large airlock system that allowed ships and other various vehicles into the air-conditioned and breathable atmosphere within the dome.

Inside of the mansion, the lights cast long, dark shadows across the many rooms, hallways, and staircases. It resembled a hot, thumpin’ dance club from Sector 69 in the Andromeda Galaxy, which was apparently a hot party spot during this stardate and time. Rooms were blue, purple, red, orange, green, and basically every color of the visible spectrum. Each room had a specific theme according to its color. For example, the dance rooms were gold and purple for wealth and passion, while the bedrooms were either blue or red, for love and… other intimate reasons.

The people attending the party were rich elitists, diplomats, friends of the son whose father owned the mansion, or friends of the friends of the wealthy son. Haven happened to be a friend of the friend of the son, and was tagging along to this hype party because she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in a week. This was due to the fact that Haven had been travelling all week to visit a few friends from her secondary school back on Estellos. The luxury space-cruise hadn’t been completely awful, but unfortunately it was a “dry cruise”, which meant that Haven had to deal with rich snobs sober.

Haven was dressed in a black dress that resembled space itself and black, three-inch heels to pair with the simple, flashy dress. Her long, blonde hair was draped across her shoulders in long, loose waves. Her makeup was simple, with only minimal eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick that highlighted her already pink lips.

At the moment, Haven was in the main dance room that was flashing all of the colors of the rainbow, wonderfully intoxicated and buzzed from a cigarette at the same time. She stumbled through the crowd of dancing figures, the flashing light screwing with her vision. The drunk girl could only hold onto her friend’s tan hand with all of her might so that she wouldn’t get lost in the large mansion. They came to a halt at the bar in the far right side of the room. Haven looked around at the large room, stumbling a bit into her friend. Her friend, Lina, had invited her to the party. Lina turned to Haven and leant in towards her ear, yelling into Haven’s ear so that she would be heard. “Let’s take more shots!” She slurred, turning to the bartender and raising four fingers. “We want shots!”

Haven turned her head to see Lina shoving a shot in her direction and grabbed it before it could spill on her outfit. They both shouted a countdown before lifting the full shot glasses to their lips and tossing back the alcohol. The alcohol burnt her throat, but Haven enjoyed it. After another shot, Haven found herself being pulled through the moving crowd once more. “Let’s dance!” Haven heard Lina yell at her. Her eyes were locked on Lina’s hand, feeling as if it was sticking out of a mass of grinding and jumping bodies. Suddenly, the sensation of Lina’s hand holding hers was gone, and the flashing lights seemed to consume Haven’s mind.

[BreakingMe]

Madison Ford opened her eyes to sunlight streaming in through the Paris hotel's balcony window. The breeze outside blew on the curtains and brushed against her face lightly. She started to stretch until the man in the bed next to her shifted slightly. She froze, hoping she wouldn't wake him further. When she was sure he was back to sleep, she reached over slowly to check the time on her phone. When the screen lit up, she jumped out of bed. "Oh shit!" She shouted. This startled the man next to her who sat up. His shaggy, blonde was hair plastered to the side of his head from the position he was laying in.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a groggy voice, rubbing his eye. His french accent make him sound more feminine than she found appealing but he didn't lack in the aesthetics department so she could look past it.

"I'm late for my shoot," she replied, frantically trying to find her desired outfit for the day. The man gave her a slight smirk.

"You should just skip it. I wouldn't mind being in bed with you all day. We could watch a movie. Or find other things to do."

"Uh," she stopped and faced him, attempting to pull on her jeans awkwardly. "Jason? Jonathan?" she made a sympathetic face at her lack of ability to remember his name. He flashed her a grin that lit up his face. He was either perpetually optimistic or significantly dense. Either way it didn't matter when it came to one night stands.

"It's Eric," he answered, trying to reach out to pull her back to bed. She took a small step back and tilted her head slightly, as if the name was completely new to her.

"Eric. Right. Well, Eric, you can order whatever you want from room service. I requested a late checkout so you just have to be out by 1. I have a shoot I have to be at, uh," she looked at her phone, "10 minutes ago. I'll uh call you, or whatever." She buttoned her pants, grabbed the leather bag on the armchair next to the door and slipped on a pair of black flats while simultaneously throwing her hair up into a ponytail. She turn back for a second before she walked out. "Uh. Later dude." she called out. She pushed her over-sized sunglasses on her face and, as the door shut, she swore she saw him wave. Foreigners, she mumbled to herself as she headed to the lobby.

[Chaoticmickey]

The sun had just began to rise over the white snowy mountain tops. As the orange sphere cast light upon the temple, a small bell chimed as a signal for the new day. There were already a few monks out on the courtyard of the temple, doing their daily prayers. The elders sat among the first to be out on this glorious new day, leading the morning prayer and meditation. A young girl stood at the main gate before quickly walking to her place over in the courtyard. Her silver hair was bright in the morning light as she got into her meditative position just under one of the only trees in the courtyard. This had been her place her entire life, as she could feel the wind pick up in the branches and swirl around her as she meditated deeply.

Taking in a deep breath, Aella was swept into her meditation, feeling almost weightless as she hummed to herself gently. The wind almost seemed to embrace her as she meditated and she was lost to time. After what felt like little time to her, Aella felt a tap on her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, she saw Delilah, the woman whom was the closest to being a mother to the elf. "It's nearly mid-day, Aella. You've been gone for hours," the woman said gently, smiling as she offered the younger woman a smaller piece of bread. The silver haired girl grabbed it gently with a thankful smile.

"I guess I lost track of time," Aella smiled gently, quietly standing. Delilah sighed gently and seemed to be thinking on something. However, the younger girl didn't press and took a bite of the bread. It was stuffed with a sweet vegetable filling, which was her favorite.

"You're growing so fast, child," she heard Delilah say, "Your training has been paying off and I do believe it is time I told you some things. However, now is not the time, as you have chores to do. After you finish them, please come to the temple statue. I shall be waiting." Before Aella had the chance to inquire more, the other woman was gone, and the elf finished her bread silently. It was her duty to sweep the courtyard and help prepare for the nightly vigil inside the deep recesses of the temple. She took a breath as she gathered a broom, and started to sweep, once again humming to herself.

[SeerOfNone]

Another crummy day, another equally crummy job. The grenade factory he worked in was dimly lit, grimy, and littered with shrapnel from discarded parts- amongst other things. Like the floor, the eyes of the workers surrounding him were clouded with the despair the mind-numbing motions of their labor brought to them. Filling capsules with sharp lead that would one day rip through the flesh of another… Unlike his coworkers', Vanth's eyes were filled with vigor; his day was only going to get better. No longer would he have to work day in and day out at a sweatshop to pull in enough money to help his parents. He had gotten his hands on the last pieces of equipment to pull off his latest heist: a new pair of gloves and an unmarked crowbar. They were stashed between some of the boxes which were scheduled to ship out to the frontlines tomorrow. Without these tools, stealing that crystal his man inside the R&D building mentioned would be more of a pain than it had to be. All he had to do now was wait for the end of the day.
As the ragtag tide of workers were leaving the factory, a hooded figure slinked along the walls away from the crowd towards a large mound of crates ready to be shipped. Upon reaching his stashed gloves and crowbar Vanth slipped on the gloves, slung the bar into his pack, then turned on his heels towards the rooftop of the main factory building. From there, he navigated across several wooden planks which stretched from factory building to factory building until he reached the rooftop of the R&D department.
Reaching into his pack, Vanth pulled out a lock picking kit and unlocked a corroded metal door. A few flights of stairs later and he was close to the lab where the government's brightest were keeping his prize until their next batch of tests. However, something was off. He could feel energy in the air around him as he approached his quarry. There also weren't the normal amount of security cameras that sat in every ceiling corner of every other building he had broken into. No trip wires, no hidden redeye relays, nothing. Was he even in the right building? Vanth got his answer when he broke into the room where the gem was encased.
“That's it? This puny little thing?” He reached out and grabbed it, inadvertently triggered the alarm for that room. Amber and ruby emergency lights began flashing with klaxons blaring. By instinct Vanth dropped his prize into the pouch attached to the inside of his pants and rushed out of the room with crowbar in hand. The entirety of the lab had transformed in an instant. Stout metallic lumps, the size of basket balls, were slinking along the floor towards him as he stepped out into the hall. He swung at one to no avail; his crowbar merely bounced off. After that, all of the lumps began glowing red, the temperature of the room increasing, and their metal sides liquidating to transform into searing tentacle-wielding cannons.
“Oh fuck this!” Vanth shouted at the tentacle cannons while batting away their jabs and dodging their small projectiles. He backpedaled down the hall he came from and back up to the roof top where the night sky was lit up with search lights, flying machines, and klaxons. He could still hear the cannons slinking up the stair well with their flexing metal limbs. He dashed over his planks and made his way back home, weaving between dilapidated houses, construction sites, until he was sure they had lost his trail. Coming up ahead was the back door to the shack of the place he called home.
Unfortunately, that was when he heard several short blasts of a pistol and two thumps hit the floor. His parents. Panic struck his heart like a hammer and he sprung through the backdoor. Deep red blood was pooling around two tied up corpses of the couple that gave him life. At this he kneeled down next to his mother and held her lifeless hand. The tromping of boots was heard from the forefront of the hovel. Something rustled from behind him, then everything went dark.

[NefariusDestiny]

Corack the Spokesperson

Status

Location: Unknown
Notes:

Description

This, plus boomerangs.

Corack not know how to tell what happen. Temple blessing gone. Tajix panic. Kinabalu invade. I want to fight, but Grolk grab me and take me away. Under temple he hand me weapon. Like Damnum, but with wings. Powerful on own. Perhaps source of temple strength. Not remember rest, but Grolk tell me I fight all Kinabalu tribes and win. He tell me travel to Nuth, find source of power to protect tribe. I leave on journey. Was so simple then...

[Elegance]

Absolutely ridiculous // An overdramatic sigh left his lips as he pulled pounds of guts from an opened body to be transferred to a container for inspection later. Grumblings and growls given as he tried not to think about how he was the only medical examiner working for two weeks straight! How could they not assign someone to help him or even make sure they did not schedule two vacations at the same time. Meyers was at least a good woman and offered to cancel her family vacation to stay, but of course he would not allow that, telling her to have a lovely time and remember to get him a souvenir. Looking up at the metal slabs positioned evenly in the middle of the large room; he had four bodies: two being elderly and that would be pretty easy to diagnose, but the other two were strange and he was quite interested in their causes of death. Though with it being strange, it would probably be in depth and most likely a pile of paperwork and investigations, but then that was one of the interesting perks of his job.

Hours later after the two elderly patients were examined and easily diagnosed, he moved over to the first of the strange bodies and before doing much he looked over it; a middle-aged man, with short salt and pepper hair. He had bushy eyebrows and a large nose that offset an otherwise handsome appearance. Hmm. He pulled on a set of fresh latex gloves, snapping them to his wrists and grinning--he loved doing that. “Start recording.” A simple command for the AI in the lab, ``Recording started at [Insert Time/Date format]`` the female voice stated and he began to go over the body slowly. “This is Doctor Gadding starting the examination of male: AG67HU’s body, one of two males in the case file of 476I8. There seems to be no signs of physical injury on his body.” Furrowing his brows, he oddly started to feel nauseous and took a step back as his eyes blurred and when they finally focused he could faintly see the body was glowing a very light purple aura. Shaking his head the glow disappearing, blinking several times. “The body... glows with soul magick… stop recording and delete the last sentence!” ``Recording stopped at [Insert Date/Time], and last sentence deleted.`` Quickly stepping closer to the table, hunching over, current dark green eyes glowing brown he began to scan the body. “T-this cannot be…” Eyes returning to their normal hazel colour, trying to calm himself, pulling off the latex gloves and throwing them into the biohazard-labeled trash bin. Removing his lab coat as he walked towards the offices that were divided by thick glass. Hanging up his coat on one of the few hooks on the wall, he plopped down in the office chair. Not being able to bring himself to look up at the bodies anymore, closing his eyes tightly. Soul magick … very rare. I know what it looks like, but I can feel that this is a different type.