DELETED jdl3932

Divinus: The Deity Roleplay, Mk. V

Xem, The Pestilent King

The Pestilent King || Lord of Rot || Exarch of Decay

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"Fear not child, for the rot shall make us one and the same."

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Domain: Corruption. The slow rot and decay of living things into their primordial bases, the spreading of virulent pestilence and withering disease, and the slow destruction of physical reality. All of these fall within Xem's domain. Souls however, or other immaterial concepts such as morality and ethics, do not. Because of this Xem is unable to affect them. Xem is able to affect inorganic objects and materials with his decay however, albeit at a much slower rate in comparison to organic matter. Finally, regardless of form, Xem can induce corruption and decay in the environment around him. While his true form does this near-instantaneously, his base form must remain in an area for several hours if the rot is to truly take hold.

Myth

Pits bubble and hiss!
Pots boil and churn!
Flesh turns to a sickly crimson mist!
For the King watches man as he is quartered and burned!

It was said that Xem came into being as a consequence of the Apocalypse, but the truth is that he just seemed to appear out of thin air one day, hungry to unleash a never-ending tempest of decay and rot upon the broken world. As such any other goals the Pestilent King might have, if he truly possesses any, remain a complete and utter mystery to mortals and gods alike. This has put him at odds with practically every other member of the pantheon, as you might expect. Although he does maintain a somewhat amicable relationship with the goddess of death as well as the deities of war, due in no small part to the overlaps between their domains.

For just as war gives way to rot, so too does rot give way to death.

Base Form: Xem appears as a towering humanoid figure with a jackal's skull for a face and tattered yellow rags for clothes. His fingers are claws and his feet worm-riddled hooves, while tentacles burst forth from his chest to poke and prod at the air around him, hungry for prey they may drag into the god's gaping chest based maw. Xem's skin too is as sickly as his robes, being rendered yellow from jaundice; foul-smelling, and sickeningly pliable from rot. Lastly, the series of spikes jutting forth from his skull are his crown, verily the mark of his abhorrent royalty.

True Form: In his true form Xem is a massive beast dripping with rotten flesh, corpses, bile, and puss. He is flanked at all times by endless swarms of flies who infect those that draw too close with maggots and worms. Eyes line this form from head-to-toe also, with each looking progressively more jaundiced and infested than the last, while sacs filled with the organs of many sway to and fro as he walks. Finally, a sickly yellow smog billows forth from his many mouths, and it is rumored that mortals who breathe in these fumes will be liquified from the inside out.

World of Light

2

The New Gods: Kings of the Multiverse

I can at most give the wiki, though to get true familiarity one would need to read the source material, of which there seems to be a lot.

K6BD Wiki.

Your avatar and the avatar above: The Walk In

I tend to have that effect on lower dimensional entities, people as you call them. No need to be alarmed though, tis but a phase that shall pass.

Crossover Town

@ZAVAZggg@Kenshi

Jesse noted the odd creature talking to the ball of meat, but went to catch up with Zyx.

"I think there might be bigger problems than this cult. Cults are horrible, but did you see that thing take out all those soldiers?" Jesse asked Zyx

Meatwad, meanwhile, noted how Trollge was killing armed men.

"Wow, you sure didn't get along with them." He then tried to piece the situation together, and his eyes lit up as he smiled at Trollge "Are you a superhero?"

@MikkishtheLeprechaun

Zyx shrugged.

"Not see it no, but I did hear it. In all honesty, I'm not too concerned about it. Caliborn is a far worse threat, trust me."

Meanwhile, back in the streets...

Trollge let out a distorted laugh, one that sent fear rushing through the bones of all standing nearby, provided they had any.

"̨͈͚͇̙͍͔̼͓͔̺͔̝̥͎̦͈͉̱͋̾͂̓͒̈́̇͋̒͛̌̾͊͌̽̊̌̓̚͟͠H̨̨̝͈̤̰̪͈̺̮̳̺̟̟̖̽͆̓̒̿͛̓͒̑̀̉̑̌̈́̚̕̚͘ͅͅͅȨ̟̘̖̖̣̟̘͎͖̍̓͊͊̉͒͆̒̏̒̊͢͢͞R̢̡̮͓͙̝̫͓̤̝̝̬̝̲̊͂͑̎̀̓́̓́͑̃̕͜͠͠͡Ó̧͈͙̼͓̗̪̭̭̣͊̆̆̀̄̾̀̇̎̕̚͢ͅ?̡̧̯̱̗̣̜̣͉͖̗͙͈̪̦̹̄̑̿̓̽͆̐́͗̋̄̓͒̓̽͜͟͞͞͞!̧̨̬̤̠̗͔̣̟̼̳̫̜͓̜̖̹̀̎̓͆̉̂̄̿̊͑̅̉̈́̊̑͝͠ ̨̡͓̘͎͉͕̣̖̯̭͕̯̝̮̯̦́̃̓͑̍̈́̏́́͋̑͑͒͐́̈͛̆͋͜͢͝ͅŅ̢̨̡̡̛̛̞̤̜͈̻͙̫͍̃͋̐̓̋͒̎̓̊͒͘O͈̣̦̞̩̮̗͉̖̘͚͍̠̲̝̲̱͊̀́̑͑̇̽̄̓͊̊̒͊̍̏̇͠,̡̦̥̺̹̺͍̠̫̭̠̭͇̗͓̭̖͗̏́̇͒̑͛͂͋̉̽̆̕̚̚͘͟͞͝ ̢̨̖̼͉̺̥͈̬̯̹͓̱̀́̌̈̊̏̿́̈́̇͘͝͞Y̗̥̞̯͔͇͉̝̣͓̳̠̦̞̒̒̀̄͌̈͑̉̆̈͌̊̚͝Ọ̹͔̝͍͖͓̗̙̱͌͊̆̎̈͌̇̓̓͘͜͡U̡̪͙̩̫̜͕̳̙͔̖͑̎̾͆̐͗̈̓͒͗͡'̛̥͖̪̠̫̬̱͇͍̭̖̬̪̖̏͊̾̇̿͌͊̎̇̆̓̒̚͜͝R̢͓̺̼̺̳̪͓̠̞̟̆́̀͐̅̍̆́̃̾̆̂̉ͅͅE̢̢̨̧͉͈̳͈̯͖͎̹̰͙͚̅̅̐̈́͊̓̆̿̀̅̈́̆̿̈̈́͘͟͢͞͠ͅ ̛̱̘̟̖͚̱͚͚̹̳̯̤̉͋̏̈͗̄͌̊̃͋̋̀͘͜͢͝ͅT̢̨̛̩̥̰̹͈̤̤͇̥̬̬͔͙̋̀̿͛͑̀̃̾̿̋̂̾̕͢͞͝A̧̛͓͈͇͖̜͍͍̣̤̙̪̗̔̏̒̍̐͐̑͌̌̋͡͝͠ͅĻ̝̟̭̱̹̦͎̠̹͈͙̰̝̀̈͆̑͂̀͋̈́̾͐͂̃̉̏̅͟͢͢͠͝Ķ̡̟̯̣͓̖̰͙̳̙͔̣͔̈̿͛̉̾͊͗͊͗̌̇͒͑͆̇͊͢͜͟͡I̡̡̢͓̝̼̣̺̙̹̖̠̥̮͖͗͋̌͂̂͂̆̆̆̐̍̐̚̕̚͢͞N̡̝̼̼̭̗̪͍̦̗̮̳̰̻͗̌̐́͗̄͑̀̅̀̀̚̚͠Ģ̨͕͕̻̝͈͉̳̖̗͍͇͚͍̄͒̎̿͐̐̍̄̿͐͒̐̾͑͘̕͜ ̢̢̧̛̤̜͎̲͈͓̬̞̲̲̯͕̙͕̩̓͐͗͌̒̎̇̋̄̃̀̌̍͒̓̕͞T̛̲̭̩̹̗̺̗̙̖̭͓͐̃̐͒͌̇̒̀̎̀̇́͢͜͟͞Ơ̧͙̻͖͉̲̠͙̱͎͉̰͖͂͆̿͗̒̉̐͑̾̑̌͘̕͟ ̛͎̗̖̼͙̲̝̯̹̹͉̱͔̭͖̬͖̥͗̌̓̀̉̈͒̆̊̓̇͒̊̐̽͝͝T̨̧̮̳̗̫̜̥̙̞̗̘̫͍͎̩̿͆̈̑̐͆̑̊̉̀̄̌̉̚͢͠͝͠͝ͅH̢̨̪̦͔̦̫̯̙̬̞̜̍̐̂͂̈͛̌̓̋̈͛͋̚͜͞ͅĘ̡̧̺͔̼̠͓̳͓̱̳̪̬͋͋̀̒̇͗́̈̊̓̊̆͌̕ ̧̨̥͕̙͖̞̟̟̠͊́̀̾̀̏̚͢͡͠͡͠V̨̝̫̬̜̞̱̘̭̖̊͐̀̇̏͑̓͐͐͗̔͜͝ͅỊ̡̢̨̣̖̯̝̩͈̮̯̦͒̄͊̈̄͊͂͐̐͒̓̃̽̆̚͢͢͡ͅL̡̨̟̥̠͉̳͖̭̳̭̘͈̜͂̒̌͐͆̎̆̋͂̇̑͆̀͠L̢̨̢͍̲͓͉͔̪͔̩̀̈́̏̌̐̔̈́͐̄̀͌͌̆̿͢͟͟͝ͅĂ̧̡͔͕̺͍̥͙̩̠̝̲̼̅̐͒̉́͌̊͂̎͂̀̑͗͘͟͜I̡̨̡̧̨̧͎͚͓̘̯̺̗̻͈͑́͐͗͋͐̀̋̂̌́̕͘͘͢͡͞Ñ̨̡̛͇̰͉͚͇̯̝̠͚͚̟͙̲͊̊̋̉̃̽̈͗̅̅̈́̀̔͗͟ ̨̧̛̳͕̺̘̙̜̦̫͈̤̲̙͓̱̭͐̓̏̆͒͂̇̎́̎͐̆̽̃̈́̕͡ͅO̡̡̧̙̖̥̙͕̼̠̭̩̺̗͍͊͑̆̉̓̇̂̽̇͒̅̀̈̕͡F̧̱̙̫̞̭͇̝͉͚̰͉̱̍͌͂̀̉́̅̀͛̒̒̋́͘͢ ̧̧̞̗̱̮̻̟̮̼̱̲̥̱̖̞̯͊̌͛̋̒͒͛͊̌̔̈̀̍́̌̽͘̚͟͢͝T̨̨̨̢̛͍͈͚̣̺̼̠̎̎̑͛̍̓̿̅̂̚͢͝H̢̛̛̭̲̹̝͈̱̠̹̺̫͓̠̣̻̫̾̔͆̿̈̈́̾̂͛͋̎͂͛͡͠ͅE̯̻͍̫̞̰͙͉̯̣̺͐̊͆̈́̿̏̒̐͞͝͠͝ͅ ͇͉̠̜̠̩̙̪͖̱̠̯̺͙̊̉̓̅̓̈̃̅͑̓̿̌̓̏̿͘̕͟͜͞͝ͅͅͅŞ̡̛̙̤̳̗͈̤̬̞̉́̌̑́͛̒̃̚͢͝T̡̛͔͔̥̘̺̖̱̩̪͉̺͔̘̬̰̑͑̑̈̌͆͑̃̀̄̀͛̿̚̕͜͟͝͞Ǫ̢̛̟͇͖̝̼̠̜̖̖͙̺̹̒͗̆̄̏̒̀̄̔̍̊̔͘͢͟͞͝͝ͅR̨̠̙̹̠̩̱͈̮̗̃̽̓̈̎́͊̆̕̕͘͟Y̧̹̣͓̟̰͚̪̫̻͔̱̟̣̯̘̫͖̲̅̊̋̌̋́̌̏̌̏͒͒̍̾́͛͘͘͢͠͠ ̡̛̯̰̻̗̫͔͎̤͇̬̤̙̳͎̻̘̭̄̀͌̈̓̈͗͛͂̌̓͆̎͌̋͂͆͜͠M̨̢̺̱͕̗̖̣̼̖̱̹̩̞̤̮̲͑̋̎̾̿̅͗̀̔̔̓̒̀̈́̇̊̎̕͟͢͡͡ͅȲ̡͔͚̩̪̲͇̣̞͎̪̺̘̻̹̜̻̔̀̓̌̂́̀̐͊̅͆̍̈́͂̃̎̕͢͡ͅ ̨̢̛̠̮̬̖̞̘̰̆̒͂́͂͊͐͜͡͞D̢̡̨̡̢̡̜̯͈̳̼͎̳̠̪̭̼̖̟̾̊̅͑̎̒̀̓̃̿̈́̈̈͛̓̏̋̏͡E̡̧̨̨͚̤̞͕̭͉̯̠̲̪̽̈̋̀́̇̈́̓̾̿̍̆͂̂̆͘͜͜Ä̡̺̺͍̘̹̻̗̻̜̲̩̻͙̳͍́̒̀̈́̐̆͊̑͌̽́̌̈͒̀̿̈́͗͜͟͝ͅR̡̨̛̺͉̭̥͔͔̥̤͇̺͍͕̯͐͋̊̇̾̍͆̀̋͐͆͐͗̑̚͢͜͜͡͠.̨̛̞͇̼̘͈̯̳̪̥͆̇͐͒̅̔̿̽̀͘͢͟͠"̨̛̝̗̼̤͔̗̭͈͔̀͌̓̒̓̈́͋͆̈̕͟͜͡

The New Gods: Kings of the Multiverse

ANYM

_{The Broken King}

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Appearance

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Since becoming a god, ANYM has shed any remnants of the mortality and humanity he once had save for its most basic shape. His skin has become a segmented grey expanse marred by ancient metals and the technology of old, his face a mask of golden death with the mark of a royalty long since lost floating high above, and eyes twin flames of purest blood. Where ANYM's flesh does not cleave unto itself, there lies coil upon coil of inflamed muscle. Crimson worms that tumble forth to bind the framework of synthetic flesh and artificial bone, undulating with every thrum filled beat of his divine heart. Move downwards from here and one shall find a tattered robe adorned with spikes carrying empty skulls, the memories of a petty conquest having reached its brutal end. Thus is it gone, yet never truly forgotten...
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Aspect

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ANYM's aspect is MEMORY, that which governs the remembrance of people, places, eras, and things long since lost and forgotten by most. This grants ANYM the power to summon the Chosen, an umbral mockery of the army he led while naught but a mortal king, the Spire, an ephemeral fragment of his former throne made manifest in the present reality, and the Law, the physical embodiment of the memories stolen from the victims of his conquest and thus a terrible weapon indeed. This is not why it is feared, however. Rather, the Law is feared because of what it does when striking or piercing a target. Upon rending flesh and breaking bone, the Law will erase one of the target's memories in order to impart one of its own. These are always hellish in nature, as they are usually the final moments taken from one of the many people either ANYM or those acting in his name have killed, though they can be blocked or removed by those in possession of the proper techniques. Finally, there is Remembrance, which lets ANYM use his aspect to heal the damage he has incurred by recalling the state his body used to be in. This is an imperfect process however, as the wounds will not mend permanently, and will eventually return as the memory of his form before it was broken and bloodied gradually fades.

In taking up this aspect, however, ANYM has also taken its weaknesses upon himself as well. He is no longer capable of remembering anything but the atrocities he's committed and the consequences they had, with even new memories becoming twisted into mockeries most cruel. Food and drink are like unto coal mingled with blood in his mouth, the recollection of their true form forever eluding him, while pleasure has given way to wicked pain.
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World

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The from which ANYM hails has been forgotten and destroyed, only remembered by the King himself in bloodied bits and pieces. From what little moments of clarity he still has though, it could be said that the planet he came from was a beautiful place once, with deep cerulean seas and verdant grasslands. He vaguely recalls that people like him lived there at some point in time. People with families and lives, hopes, fears, and dreams, albeit not anymore.

He made sure of that.
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Race

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Human.
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Legacy

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The details of ANYM's rise are hazy at best, since he's the only one who truly knows what exactly happened and even then his testimony is spotty thanks to the side effects of his aspect. From what has been shared though, it appears that ANYM hailed from one of his homeworld's many noble houses, and used the estate left behind to him by his parents to launch a years long conspiracy to wrest control from the ruler of the kingdom in which his house was situated. To this end he roped the other houses into his scheme, though he eventually betrayed them when all was said and done. After this it appears as though he drastically ramped up the province's military-industrial complex, disbanding the various ranks that were so prevalent and uniting each soldier in his service under one banner and one unified training regime. It was through this that he ensured an unusually high standard of combative excellence amongst his men, one of the many factors that ensured his eventual conquest of the entire world.

Of course this was not nearly enough for the newly crowned king, for despite his ownership of the entire planet via the banner of ruthlessly vast empire he longed for more. Thus did he plumb the arcane and alien ruins of the world in search of artifacts or ancient power, though in doing so he stumbled across a prize greater than anything he could have possibly imagined. A Key of Creation buried in the brow of a statue depicting some long dead god. At first he had no idea what it was, nor any inkling of the power it contained, though he soon learned upon prying it free. When it buried itself within his forehead, ANYM found himself changed and the world he once knew utterly destroyed, fading away into nothing more than a violent memory as he was transported into a different place entirely. Striding out into what he assumed to be the afterlife, as the surge of power granted to him by the key had led him to believe he had died, ANYM was initially lost. Not trusting his surroundings or fellow New Gods, he quickly isolated himself to master his powers and martial his forces over the ensuing years. Eventually ANYM did return to the divine fold, with knowledge of what he was and how things worked to boot, although he still hasn't come to trust the others fully just yet.

In short, he gained the power he sought, but lost everything he'd ever gotten in exchange.

All of it becoming nothing more than a distant memory...
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Might

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During his mortal life, ANYM was quite the cunning individual, as his overthrow of the reigning sovereignty shows. This is not where his true strength lies, however. Rather, it lies in his capabilities as a strategist and warrior. He was no slouch when it came to melee combat during his mortal years, even going so far as to mix in various hand-to-hand techniques to bolster his already formidable combat ability, and these skills have only been increased following his ascension. Since he exists in a constant state of pain and misery, ANYM is more than capable of shrugging off wounds even other Gods would balk at, though the trade-off for this is his utter lack of on the fly planning. As a matter of fact, one could liken ANYM in a fight to a berserker held in a constant state of rage. His strikes, although powerful enough to cleave through small portions of the corpse-city that is Heaven, are clumsy and leave him vulnerable to counterattack; the martial arts he does rely on lack all manner of subtlety, and his speed--although great--is totally bereft of any and all dexterity. Therefore he will, at most, use extremely ferocious styles that deal high amounts of damage, but never more defense oriented ones. Nor will he utilize his skills to set up ambushes or traps that trigger days, months, or even centuries down the road, and as for dodging...

Well you'd have an easier time killing six billion demons than you would teaching ANYM how to dodge.
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Path

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ANYM's goal now is as it has always been, that being rule through the iron grip of fear and force. He seeks conquest and nothing more, going so far as to refrain from outright killing his opposition in order to prolong the slaughter on both sides. Ultimately however, his path is a brutal one, stained with the entrails and blood of those who dare stand in his way. He did not forsake everything just to shrink from the usage of his newfound power after all.

Divinus: The Deity Roleplay, Mk. V

Both sheets are very, very good, but if you would like any help to decide between Xem and Memteus, us GMs find ourselves favouring Xem. His sheet is exemplary with a very good domain description and fascinating myth, and corruption is a much more flexible domain to play around than contracts, we feel.

However, you stand free to choose. Memteus’ sheet is also accepted if you can fill out the myth a bit more.

Yeah, as I got further into making Xem, I decided to play him more and more. He is far easier to manage domain wise as you said, plus he'll always have something to do by virtue of being a naturally antagonistic, to most beings anyway, force. Unlike Memteus, who would have to find gods and mortals, offer them contracts, negotiate, etc. As far as saving the world goes, he'll actually help with that as it's kind of hard to corrupt things when they don't exist.

His is a slow, bloated, death after all. Not a sudden plummet into the undefined void.

Crossover Town

Also

Crossover Town

<Snipped quote by MajorGremlin>

<Snipped quote by ZAVAZggg>

Rick didn't spare the smaller scientist a word and yet again grabbed Higgsbury, it wasn't going to do either scientist any good to waste their time in the range of gunfire and whatever that abomination was about to do.

And so Rick booked it with the little man tucked under his arm. He didn't stop running until he couldn't hear the god awful screeching that Trollge made, he found himself stopping for breath in the middle of a park and placed the scientist Wilson upon the ground rather roughly but not enough to harm the little man.

"Y-y-you can-*belch* thank me later..." he spent a few moments wheezing before sighing exasperatedly "Ho-ho-hooooollly shit...Wh-wh-what is fucking wrong with this dimension...We-we're going to fucking die if we can't escape!

@Dark Cloud

Trollge continued to tear at the guards from afar, albeit without touching them, as though he were using some manner of telekinetic force. Turning his manic gaze upon the small ball of meat, he addressed it.

"İ̢̨̧̖̗͖̖̳͈̞̮̬̦̦͎̩̠̖̫͓͆͂̔͐́͒̔̋͗͋̐̑͋̽̇͐̈̕͢͡͝͞ͅ'̭͓̫͉͍̤͉̱̬̠̯͉̜̪̳̯̂̏͆͌̆́̇͂̈̋̽̓͂̓̊̚͢͢͠͠͝ͅM̨͕̫͎̣̮̪̬̫̻̰͙͕̜̙̜̳̮̥̞̀̉̈́̿͆̈́́̀̍̈̽̂̃͆͌͌̀̇̓̕͘͟ ̧̢̧̙͇̯̤̩̘̣̺̝̜̗̖̟̯̙̜͎͍͌͂́̽̒͌̇̄̀̑͐͊̓͑̍͐̍̍̚͘͡N̨̡̡̨̧̝̺̳̭͉̪̗͖͙̱̫̤̎̅̈́̇̂̐̉́̀͆͂́̇̔̋̚͠Ȩ̢̡̞̻̙͖̤͔̯̦̯͍̲̣͙̫͑̌̓̔̏̏̽͛͒͗͑͗̊͂̆͋͞W̗̥̬̝̗̦̘̦̫̖͂̏͌̔̾͆̇́̐̎̕͢ ̡̧̘͔̩̹̜̫̤̟̈̏́̍̀̂̐͂̆͊͢͞͝ͅH̢̢̱̦͈̪̬̗͉͚̤̟̻̝̙̱̭͇͌̒̃͊̾̿̂̔̏͒́̄́͆̉̄͘̕͘͟͟͠Ȩ̡̗̜̦̗̙̰͉̟̲̪̟̩͕͖̦͍͈̐̅͗̏̂̈́̓͗͊̒̑̿̽̐͗̕̕̚͢͟͠͝͞Ȓ̨̛̛̜͔͓̫̙͈̤̖̘͇̭̹̰̰̩̫̜̍̍̀͆̈̅̅͑͗̈̂̀̿͊͂̕̕ͅͅĘ̛̛͉̘͉̞̮̬̭̖̬̫͚̼̩̙̊̅́̉̅̃̉́̍́͊̐͡ ̨̢̛͎͍̳̼̬̝̟̩̖̜͉̳̤͉̹̻͓̣̠̭̍͊̽̍̃͒̃̆̋̒̍̓̅̽͊̇́͂̚͢͡͠͡M̧̧̭̩͖̲̭͈̯͉̝̓͛̽̑͛̆̐͊̓͗̕É̛͇̬̯̤̼̰͖̥̳̳́͑̋́͒́̀̄̅̀͟͢A̡̡̪͍͉̺̺͈̻͙̹̓͂̌́̽̽̈̑̃͆̐͒͋́̎̕͢͢ͅͅͅT̡̢͍̪̭̜͖͍̳̝̬̳̙͔͊͗̿̂͐̀͂͛͛͒̒̿͋͝B̨̹̰͔̥͍̗̜̖͉̼̲͙̩̻̥̙̙̥̦͓̦̠͎̅̀̂̂̎͋̄́̊̀̌́̒̈̏̽̿̑́̇̄̀͛̕͘͢Ȃ̡̳͔̜͉͕͓͈̳̹̫͎̋̆̎̈͋̑̆̌̏͐̕̕̚͜ͅL̢̛̮͉̟̫̟͈̩̭̗̩̝̭͎͈͔̙̙̜͈̼̱̏̌͐̊̓̅̇͒̈́̈̅̐͆̎̒̎̈͌̿̕͟͞͞L̡̛̰͍̟͓͓̹̝̼̞̩̮̱͚̳̤̦̫̣̺͖̺̖͉͊͆̑͒͆͑̈́́̈͌͆̋̿̀̿̉̄͒̎̚͡͠͠.̢̛̛͈̮̹͉̞̥̫̠̮̻̗̟̫̞̰̳̖̘̣̜̯͙͕̇̈́̑̓̋̿̒́̽̏́̉́̈̌͗́̕͘͘͡͝͠ͅ

World of Light

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Level: 3 (10/30)
Word Count: 486
Location: Edge of the Blue - Atlantis Temple
EXP: +1

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Not wanting to bother with any more combat for the day, the former SOLDIER took the card from the talking snail with a deadpan stare. Glancing down at the presently blank slip, she decided to give some of these rides and minigames the snail had mentioned a try, although Sephiroth herself couldn't say why exactly, as it was never her really her thing back on Gaia. Hell, even before the revelation that she was the chosen one destined to rid the planet of the blight that was humanity just as the Cetra of old had wanted, she hadn't ever been one to waste time playing games. So maybe this sudden shift in attitude towards them was a result of one of the other personalities she'd absorbed. In any case it didn't really bother her, as she didn't have much else to do at the moment, well aside from getting a fresh change of clothes and maybe a shower that is. So, leaving the annoyingly chipper receptionist behind, she made her way to the temple's boutique to look for this swimsuit he'd mentioned. Finding it within a matter of seconds she stepped inside and got the suit, before making her way to a secluded locker room in which she could put it on, dispelling her Masamune in the process so it couldn't get in the way. It was a simple thing, a cherry one-piece with yellow stripes, but not much else besides that. There was still one major obstacle left however, that being her damaged rigging, which was much harder to work the clothes she was wearing around. A few minutes of struggle later, however, and her coat and undergarments had finally come free when she realized the damn thing strapped to her back could actually detach.

Once it had been discarded, changing out of her current attire had been a trivial affair. At least it was, until she remembered she was presently coated in layers of dried mud, swamp water, and monster viscera. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sephiroth made her way over to the showers, which were a tad larger than she originally thought, although definitely not as large as the facilities she had access to back at Shinra. Shitty as they were, they knew which of their assets were best, and so worked to keep them in their good graces. That meant having free use of the best facilities the company had to offer, and while these weren't nearly as good, they would most certainly do. Following a solid five minutes worth of vigorous scrubbing, lathering, and rinsing, Sephiroth was finally grime free. Toweling herself off as she stepped out of the room, she slipped back into her suit before hooking her rigging back on. From there she moved back into the main hall, making sure to take her stamp card with her, as she planned on visiting the boat based shooting gallery first.