Does anyone else with a rebel character plan to have theirs enter the scene soon? When Dragonheart comes in things are gonna go from 0 to 100 so I wanna make sure people have a chance first lol
Blizz
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Grand Chancellor Supreme of the Wizard Council
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Everything is AI because plagiarism is profitable and because people think we’re in a dark age where skills like art and writing haven’t been democratized to hell and back for decades already
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Shoutout to all the gay mfs for being remembered by corporate America for a month
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i forgot like half of you until you existed on my profile again lmao. you know what we have dms for this sorry mods
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Bio
I invented necromancy and the windmill. I beat the sun in a poker match during the summer of 1273 and God hasn't felt the same since.
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Most Recent Posts
It was good to see Ixtaro and the Castigator talking like ordinary people. Ordinary in the context of Kanth-Aremek, but perhaps in the context of Earth humans as well. Honestly, Shirik didn’t understand the concept of normal anymore, and they hadn’t for a millennium. Still, drinks and food were slung, but insults were not. That was enough. Thus, Shirik turned their full attention to Esedel.
”Ah, yes. Damage. I am quite familiar with the theory of such a game. I have never lost.” Shirik was being dead honest. Shirik’s mind was a raging inferno of war, pain, loss and regrets. Being burned alive on the Day of Black Clouds was but the earliest spark of those memories. 600 years mediating in a cave were necessary to measure the true depths of it all, and explore places not touched by it. In all that, Shirik walked through pain like a monk walked along a bed of glowing hot coals- Literally and figuratively, untouched by the fire. Like a hardened sailor on a path through a storm, they were unbothered.
In a way, Shirik had the ultimate advantage in the game of Damage- No one could make them feel worse than they already felt in the darkest days.
”A S’tor scholar wagered an archaic book from the Kolodon Empire on the game. I wagered a useless piece of glass that I convinced her was a fragment of a dead star. I would have won, were it not for you and your soldiers. Dur’hella, I believe was her name. She found me in a town called Krakellios weeks later, and simply… Traded me the book for my star fragment. I believe she feared my mysterious strategy.”
Shirik paused, noting that Kerchek was running for bushes and… Distorting. Life mage problems, they concluded.
”The book was… Dreadfully boring.”
Perhaps anyone else present would never in a thousand years admit that they played such a forbidden game, with mages that could manipulate their consciousness how they saw fit. Shirik didn’t care, though. They made no attempt to keep their story confined to a hushed tone. They simply said it out loud. Shirik refocused their attention on the Warden. ”Interested in a match, are you?”
That was… Probably a joke. Probably.
”Ah, yes. Damage. I am quite familiar with the theory of such a game. I have never lost.” Shirik was being dead honest. Shirik’s mind was a raging inferno of war, pain, loss and regrets. Being burned alive on the Day of Black Clouds was but the earliest spark of those memories. 600 years mediating in a cave were necessary to measure the true depths of it all, and explore places not touched by it. In all that, Shirik walked through pain like a monk walked along a bed of glowing hot coals- Literally and figuratively, untouched by the fire. Like a hardened sailor on a path through a storm, they were unbothered.
In a way, Shirik had the ultimate advantage in the game of Damage- No one could make them feel worse than they already felt in the darkest days.
”A S’tor scholar wagered an archaic book from the Kolodon Empire on the game. I wagered a useless piece of glass that I convinced her was a fragment of a dead star. I would have won, were it not for you and your soldiers. Dur’hella, I believe was her name. She found me in a town called Krakellios weeks later, and simply… Traded me the book for my star fragment. I believe she feared my mysterious strategy.”
Shirik paused, noting that Kerchek was running for bushes and… Distorting. Life mage problems, they concluded.
”The book was… Dreadfully boring.”
Perhaps anyone else present would never in a thousand years admit that they played such a forbidden game, with mages that could manipulate their consciousness how they saw fit. Shirik didn’t care, though. They made no attempt to keep their story confined to a hushed tone. They simply said it out loud. Shirik refocused their attention on the Warden. ”Interested in a match, are you?”
That was… Probably a joke. Probably.
L̴e̸a̸h̵ ̷J̶o̸r̶d̸a̶n̵
Leah’s rocky attack didn’t do a lot. It didn’t do anything noticeably impactful to the hand at fucking all. Leah was still on edge like crazy. There was a sting all over her skin. She was fucking hurting, and this bullshit just pissed her off more and more. Leah felt ready to scream- Not in pain again, but in rage. Irrational, blinding, rage. The only reason she didn’t is because the giant Fuck Off Mitt landed on her. There was a thunderous thud, but Leah… Didn’t feel a thing. The ground shook, and the Hand crumbled around her. She went through it, and Leah was left unscathed as digital blood showered all over her.
Either the Hand was secretly coded to be completely painless, Zari somehow made it that way, or Leah’s… Change did something to make her go from being built like a brick house to being built like a battleship. Or maybe it was the fact that the Hand just shredded itself open on her hair- She grew it out for this kind of thing. But regardless, Leah was in a rage. She grabbed the Hand’s weird, digital flesh between her fists and tried to tear it apart. Leah wanted to mangle it- Rip it into tiny fucking shreds and shatter the thing like brittle glass and-
Wait, it was still alive. It was squirming around her and managed to rip itself upwards and into the sky. Even as Leah had someone gotten taller, she still couldn’t just reach the stupid thing and throw it out of the sky, straight at Usagi’s scraggly little bitch ass face. Leah could feel a vein start to pop under her skin. ”I’m gonna fucking kill that fucking thing…”
And then, she yelled like she never yelled before. Fists bowled up, the very heavens might’ve heard Leah’s fury.
”GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!!!”
This u?
May or may not be contemplating the idea of Dragonheart jumping out of a helicopter and landing like the hulk to scare the shit out of the Hunters while a bunch of NPC rebel soldiers storm the gates
I’ve been frazzled lately but I’m back.
Will try to catch up soon
Will try to catch up soon
Of course she let them in. Of course she did. Because knowing her, Ananym probably thought she was going to Reenact Home Alone by springing a quantum infinity number of traps all designed to fuck with, and traumatize her playmates. Or as Jack would’ve called them, her victims. He might’ve said something about not letting them in if Ananym was only going to get cornered like that. But maybe she was planning to scare the shit out of them with some sort of ambush. A teleportation spell to bring them all to a pit of magma, or a decoy perhaps- Was this the real Ananym? Jack certainly wouldn’t put that past her. He’d feel proud in some way if that was the case.
”I wouldn’t eat the knives,” Jack said to Annika. ”They’re rather… Undercooked.” He was absolutely fucking with her- He didn’t know what they tasted like, he just felt like cracking a joke. Today was a humorous type of day by his own standards. Jack often found himself using humor as a way to lessen the burden that these stressful situations had. After all, if one person can set an example by being unbothered, others would surely follow. ”It is rather difficult to add salt to metals, unfortunately. Otherwise, they might be a bit more palatable.”
The thunder of Limbo’s sky cracked in rhythm with Jack’s own heartbeat. It was soothing in an uncanny way. ”I forgot how wondrous the place could be a times,” he said aloud. As intimidating and… Malevolent as the world was, there was beauty in chaos, and majesty in fury. Ananym pointed them in the direction of a castle on the horizon. Frankly, he didn’t recognize it. If she was familiar with it, then Jack assumed it was trustworthy. The only problem was that Ananym wanted to race there, and Jack wasn’t about to run through a forest in Limbo.
”Oh- Absolutely not. Between you and me, Annika, long walks through a forest on Earth are far more pleasant than here. Madalyne! We’ll teleport there!” He honestly wasn’t sure if she even heard him. She was clearly fierce in her own right, surely she’d be fine. Besides, the girl seemed like better company than Kog’Thakan. ”If she’s in a hurry, then so to shall we.” Jack brought his shadow arm up and held it out in front of himself and Annika. Trails of vantablack smoke began to arise from it and coalesce into the shape of a circle of swirling darkness. This was not an instant process, but after a minute or two, Jack’s creation was a churning portal of black and lilac wisps that nothing could be seen through.
”This is what I call a Twilight Doorway. I use these to cross incomprehensibly large distances with only a few footsteps. The exit will take us to the castle that Ananym mentioned. She means well, but her idea of the difference between “safe” and “life-threatening” differs from that of us humans. This will be safer. I believe Madalyne knows what she’s doing, and Ananym is much more dangerous than she lets on- Those two can handle anything Limbo throws at them. Shall we?”
Jack stepped through the portal. Fluid darkness curled around him and seemed to swallow him whole. If Annika followed him through, she’d feel a long chill wash over her. Not the kind that ran down one’s spine, but the kind one felt when they stepped outside on an autumn evening. It was inviting, wrapping over everything and taking it through to a place far away without so much as a rustle of momentum. Only Jack did not arrive where he expected to. No, this was not the craggy, demonic landscape he was just in. This was the opposite.
On the other side of the portal, a more lively sensation took hold. One that could be more readily associated with Limbo, as Jack dropped into a veritable Garden of Eden. Lush, green plants as far as he could see, and serenity abound. A beautiful place that could only be made reality by someone with an equally compassionate heart from which to pour out love. Jack took in the surroundings, and a breath of fresh air. This was… an accident. A pleasant one, but it made sense. Jack must’ve overlapped the portal with a stepping disc native to Limbo, and arrived here.
That meant this could’ve been any place in any possible time. This could a billion years after Strange’s death, or a billion years before it. How would Jack explain that to Annika or Madalyne? He noticed a woman nearby, tending to this garden. White hair… It was Storm. Gently and quietly, Jack stepped closer, ensuring he did not tremble her work with his intrusion. How long had it been, he wondered, since they laid eyes on each other.
”…Ororo? Is that you? It seems I’ve taken a wrong turn. It is good to see you again. I did not think I would cross paths with you again in this way.”
Ananym had 15 seconds to decide to jump through the doorway or continue on after Ananym and Madalyne. It began to shrink before her eyes.
Among trees that grew taller than mountains, past a mist through which no god or man could divine a path, the world stood still.
Grinta's mind drifted through the earth and into the sky, letting all the universe flow through her soul like a river. From the river, she drank the water of life that all things needed, living or dead. Her body slowed to an unmoving pace. She was detached from the world, and yet she sat there in her home, no less apart of the world than the grass or the wind. Grinta became a thread in a weave that transcended the scope of conscious understanding, one that she was inexorably connected to, as everything that ever was or will be is connected to her. Her body faded from her memory, eroding into dust carried across the winds of time, as she let herself flow forth, unfettered, as the weave bent and tugged upon her. Time was a breath, and Grinta did not feel the urge to breathe. Thought was water, and Grinta would dive as deep as the ocean's floor, but she would not come to fear drowning.
She left her shell of bones and blood in the old timber home that was built long ago. Her body was there, but Grinta was everywhere. Every rock, every gust of wind, ever star that burned in the night sky. They were all vessels for her form. There was only the thought, the will to exist, a dream to be at one with all the entropy and harmony that performed the dance known as Creation. There was no pain, no gravity, no emotion.
There was only Grinta, and Grinta became it all.
ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚲᛃ. ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛖᚨᚱᛏᚺ. ᛁ ᛒᚱᛁᚾᚷ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚾᛁᚷᚺᛏ, ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚱᚨᛁᛋᛖ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛋᚢᚾ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚾᛟᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷ.
ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚨᛚᛚ.
Grinta did not say the words. She imagined them, and they were true. She crossed the wall of knowing, into the void of purified will.
She opened a door that the gods themselves longed to reach.
On the other side of that door was everything that was ever touched by creation. Reality distilled into a single breath, which Grinta breathed. She was conscious, though not in the traditional sense. If the universe was a living thing, she had just been assimilated into its brain. She felt everything it felt, heard everything it heard, and listened when it spoke. And the universe did not speak, it cried. From a place physically distant, though tangibly apart of her in this state, Grinta heard a wail of pain, estranged and foreign to her. In the sense of circulation returning to a limb, as needling receded. Grinta paid attention to the will behind that pain. It was wild, scared, and felt impossibly alone among its own. What could be severed so, when all the world was one, she wondered aloud. The universe could not answer, because she did not know.
The words were heard through a hundred trillion ears.
What did you do to me?
Grinta's presence was violently pulled back home at the sound of the voice. The formless was formed again, and the door was snapped shut loud enough that it awoke her from her daze. Grinta's eyes flew open, her heart hammered in her chest as she reminded herself that she was at home again. The house was dead silent, beyond the heartbeat pounding in her ears. The sound of distant footsteps and rattling metal trilled on the wind, and Grinta saw silver leaves drifting outside the window. She collected her thoughts into her finite skull once more.
"She's alive..."
L̴e̸a̸h̵ ̷J̶o̸r̶d̸a̶n̵
Zarina's "explanation" didn't explain shit. Leah wanted to reach out and grind the girl to dust between her hands. Lasers were flying through the air and someone got their head caved in- At least she thought, she wasn't at her best for perception- and the fucking sky was falling! Assuming the Framework in the real world was monitoring the heart rates of Leah and her "teammates," Leah's was pushing 220 bpm. Her heart rate was naturally higher in the first place, but this was extreme for her. Her skin would not stop feeling like it was dipped in molten metal, even as a giant hand appeared out of thin fucking air. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK.
Where did the sky go? What happened to her? Why was she in so much pain, why was she taller, why was she spewing smoke, why couldn't she control her powers? Leah was trying to grasp this, but she couldn't. She wanted to leave, to escape this situation and let everyone in the entire school, Sabine and April included, forget her existence for a whole 24 hours. People could see her panicking, it was obvious that something was wrong with Leah, and it only made things worse. It felt like she was a microscopic lifeform under a microscope, every single flaw and insecurity that Leah felt terrified to show being laid completely bare before everyone present. All the training Imperator burned into her was screaming against the underside of her skull to get a fucking grip.
But she couldn't. Even having her body snapped in half by the old man didn't feel this awful.
Perhaps the one thing that prevented Leah from devolving into a full-blown panic attack was her understanding of combat. She saw the stupid fucking hand coming for her and in a fit of blind fury swung her arm at it. It felt awkward, Leah was in a body she wasn't used to. And she almost lost her footing and made a boulder far too small come up to spear the hand. It was about five feet in diameter, and she'd be lucky if it even did anything to the thing. She was in a frenzy right now, and Leah's grip on her powers was slipping out of her grasp. The ground started tremoring again, enough that people might stumble if they weren't careful, though they likely wouldn't notice it. She didn't know what to do, yelling for Usagi to stop the simulation would've been something she'd never live down. Usagi would kick her out and she'd be a failure.
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