Dezuel

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

Reverion strode back and forth in the newly constructed palace, it wasn't that he found it to his dislike. But he felt somehow... wrong? Was it right for him to feel wrong about lording over his own creations? El'Zadir had done alot to improve the way of living for his people to the point they were chanting her name in praise, this was something good however, something worthy of recognition. But he couldn't offer her a gift that would be showing enough of his gratitude, unlike with his creations which were singing his praises wherever he went.

He devised a plan to create an artifact in her name and memory, not only for himself but also for the Fowlfolk. While not a site of worship like a temple or a shrine, it would remind the Fowlfolk to be orderly and civilized even amidst chaotic times. Using his divine powers he allowed the artifact, the statue to take shape in the middle of the city square of Harrowfane. He was surprised how accurately it depicted her. Too accurately. The god decided to cover up her abdomen abit further. The statue of her bore his feathery cape, a sign of his own influence.

He allowed himself a satisfied musing. "Perfect."

"Behold all of you, this statue depicts she who came to me and you and bestowed upon you this great city and the tools in your hand. Praise her and respect the laws and orders which Harrowfane holds, for they are the same as mine." Reverion raised his hand into a fist towards the large cave ceiling in the great cave hall.

"Bloodbeak, bring forth your chosen champions. Those whom have distinguished themselves above others, to receive the gift of undeath. You are not forced to accept my gift, for it is what it is. It is a gift, not a curse. Come into the great palace and you shall be ascended." Reverion said as he strode off towards his home. His mortal home? What was home anyways? Home was where your people were. Yes. He was home.

"Get in line! You there! Get in line I say!" Bloodbeak cawed loudly as one of the fowlfolk seemingly stood immobile and not heeding his words.

"Did you hear me? You are disrespecting our lord and the new laws of Harrowfane!" Bloodbeak went up and looked over the otherwise slender and significantly more weak looking crow-man.

"Enough. I want to hear what this one has to say." Reverion beckoned to Bloodbeak to back down, causing the slender looking crow-man to smirk. Could they smirk? There was a shrewd glimmer in his eyes, Bloodbeak could see it.

"With all due respect. 'Divine highness'. I have no interests in your gift or being a pawn." The slender looking crowman said, his pose defiant in the presence of a god. It was enough to make Bloodbeak get a panicked expression on his face as he scurried up. "My lord allow me to punish this one for his insolence!" Bloodbeak grabbed hold of his spear with a copper tip, on the ready to deal with what he saw as a traitor.

"Nevermind that. Let him leave." Reverion motioned with his hand in a casual manner, but within the god's mind he saw something promising. A mortal had just defied him in front of his followers? His own creation? While he had only met El'Zadir, he was certain that the other gods would no doubt have smitten the mortal down where it stood. But he could not do it.

'To stand before the nothingness and defy me, that takes strength too. Such a show of arrogance.' It made the god feel simply amazed, that there was another being, albeit mortal and from his own creation, which had that same spirit. The spirit of resistance. While he couldn't bestow the crow-man with the same blessing as he had done the others, for that would have caused confusion amidst his followers. They would not understand his affection for the distinguished.

"What is your name, little crow-man?" Reverion asked the slender looking one.

The fowlfolk all around were quiet, the slender one amongst them. It caused Bloodbeak to point his spear at him. "Speak up, impudent dwarf."

Reverion's gaze shifted to Bloodbeak. "Did you just use the word dwarf to describe him? Do not." He said in a calm tone, but there was authority.

"O-ofcourse my lord!" Bloodbeak fell on his knees and knelt down.

"My name is Cawcax." The slender looking crowman said, defiance slipping out of his beak for every word uttered, his body itself displayed the same.

"I curse you Cawcax, to wander the lands of Harrowfane, wherever you go, you shall not be able to hurt your fellow fowlfolk, nor shall they in turn be able to hurt you. Wander until you find faith anew." Reverion said in a stern tone.

'May my blessing protect your kind and yourself on your path onwards. Show me just how much you will distinguish yourself... Cawcax.' The god mused in his own mind as he cast a blessing of protection on Cawcax and in the same moment elevated him as a hero of his kind.

Bloodbeak narrowed his eyes to Cawcax. "Pox and the sun be upon you!" Bloodbeak spitted in his direction, but soon realized he just defiled his god's palace so he went over to wipe the spit up using another's cloak. Soon after that Cawcax left the palace and went out to the surface. Soon after Reverion bestowed the gift of undeath to the chosen ones, which had distinguished themselves in Harrowfane. Effectively turning them into vampires using his blessing. Then the talonhanded lord directed Bloodbeak and his chosen, alongside a couple of more living Fowlfolk to go forth and create a second holy site south of the first.

"Bloodbeak, use the knowledge gained to make a minor settlement. It shall become a fortress, whereof this shall forever remain your sanctuary."

Summary

Summary:

Reverion gets impressed with insolent and disrespectful fowlfolk male called Cawcax and secretly blesses him and makes him a hero of his kind. While further giving out vampire gifts to some others and sending Bloodbeak and others to build a new holy site south of the first one. He also expands the living area of Harrowfane. Also added a non-lewd statue of El'Zadir to further amplify the lawfulness of the Fowlfolk.

MP

MP: 6/6

- 1 Protection of the law (Artifact, statue of El'Zadir with her feather cloak. Protects against rebellion, unlawfulness and chaos)
- 1 Cawcax (Hero)
- 1 Protection of the fowlfolk blessing (given to Cawcax to make him unable to harm other Fowlfolk, but at the same time make them unable to harm him.)
- 1 Blessing of undeath (Given to chosen warriors, scholars, builders etc of the Fowlfolk race. Effectively turning them into vampires.)
- 1 Barrowfell (Holy site, south of the first holy site in Harrowfane).
- 1 Harrowfane livingspace (Expansion of the area which the Fowlfolk may build upon, underground and above.)

MP:0

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

He couldn't help but feel contentment at seeing his creations move around and explore the land he had chosen for them, with his place of worship in the middle of the largest cave. While he had chosen a name for his creations, the Fowlfolk. He felt that the land itself also needed a name. He closed his eyes for a moment before uttering it's name.

Harrowfane.

"I name your homeland, Harrowfane. Temple of the barrow birds. Fowlfolk you are, yet more you may become. Breed and spread out, learn what you can of the land. Trial and error. To err is mortal. Take my gift to you all... The pool of warding off hunger. From flesh and blood you are made, and flesh and blood will you consume."

Reverion created an artifact what could only be described to be a large fountain spewing meat and bloodlike liquid. The sight of the food and drink sent the Fowlfolk into a near feeding frenzy. "Remember my teachings and more shall be yours." He then left them, but he came to realize that his creations would need to be watched over, especially during this early stage of creation. He was a god who would see them become worthy of the gift of the gods eternal existance, undeath as far as he was concerned. But it also made him realize that he would have to branch out abit further.

He would have to become more than he was too, much like the mortals he would have to grow aswell.

"Come forth. Claim the understanding you need." He spoke out to the crowmen who were getting their fill of food and drinks, one big in particular tilted it's head and took a leap out of the fountain of gore and wandered up to his creation.

Reverion held out his taloned hand and summoned a tome. "Touch it and you shall become more akin to me." It didn't take the large Fowlfolk long to approach, stretching out it's own claws to take hold of the tome with it's bloodied talons. Then it opened it and looked, and within moments there was a change in the creature's eyes, as if it had awakened from a slumber. It was now looking around with newfound understanding and wit, to the point it would speak- and then caw to his fellow kin to come and look into the tome.

The large one had distinguished itself in it's initiative, it was the only sign the god needed. A distinguishing from the rest.

"You have shown yourself extra worthy. I name you Bloodbeak, you shall be the first to know how I feel. If you are willing, come forth and hold out your talons." The god waited patiently, and did not have to wait long for the large crowlike figure to jump forwards, it's eyes telling that it was intrigued albeit with some caution. Yet it did as it was asked. Then it was given the gift of undeath itself, it could feel as life was slipping away from it, being replaced by unlife. It's black eyes turning red, it's touch growing cold, it's need to breathe... gone. Replaced by a feeling of power aswell, as the creature was bestowed further power by it's god. Becoming a paragon of it's kind, and atop it's head a crown took shape. To mark it as their leader and guide.

"That'll do. Hear his words and heed them, for they shall be the same as mine. Now go forth my creations, claim what is yours. Claim it with kindness and kin."

Summary

Summary: Reverion further bestows some gifts to his creations, in the shape of a tome of knowledge, a pool of endless food and drink. And then giving the largest and most impressive among them undeath itself as a vampire, becoming a hero of his kind and ruler with a crown, to symbolize but also protect his kind. (Caw Bloodbeak)

MP

MP:

- 1 Pool of warding off hunger. (Artifact)
- 1 Tome of Tutorship (Basic knowledge of how to build simple huts/nests, forage, speak, read, write, create fires, cook etc)
- 1 Hero (Caw Bloodbeak)
- 1 Protection against life and death (Undead vampiric blessing)
- 1 Crown of Fowlfolk protection (Artifact. May magically protect friendly nearby Fowlfolk)

-5 Spent MP.

Total MP remaining: 0

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

There is no remaining MP! The divine piggybank is empty! All must spend, this is a godsend. I may have to do some cleanup of the post, but that will have to be later. Now back to godly business irl! Ahh missed to put out 5 points, damn.

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Blitzkrieg time Galbar!

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

He was not alone, of this he was certain. What or who were these other existances, and what were their purpose. No doubt he would find out.

But before he would seek them out, he would do that which had been done to himself, to create something out of nothing. Make it partly in his image, bearing the potential to obtain the higher form of existance in which he possessed.

The blackwinged god landed on Galbar, his intentions clear, he would bestow upon these creations an incomplete existance, where they would grow from an egg and gradually wither to become nothing. But to become oblivion was not the desired goal, just the whip upon the back, the result of failure, the thing pushing them onwards to do what would be in their power to avoid. All they had to do was prove themselves worthy. But who would they be?

Reverions taloned hands began to create them in his image, but incomplete, avian in nature, cowered in black feathers snd bearing talons like his and black wings. However unlike him, they would have beaks akin to crows.

"Come forth, you whom shall walk and fly upon this world. I shall name you Fowlfolk. Become something that is worthy, know me as your creator and your gate to the greater existance, your minds shall hold the key to your ascension. Acknowledge me as your maker and unmaker, your guardian and your warden, for I will protect you from oblivion and watch over your mortal cage. Worship my teachings and teach others of my path of greater existance and you shalt be rewarded."

Thus it came to be that the Fowlfolk were put into existance before him, their eyes watching their creator with wonder and amazement, and the same gaze was gi en back to them. They were beautiful, flawed, but they held all they needed to reach the goal. To become akin to him. But also empower him through dedication, aiding him to become greater than he is.

Reverion made sure to create a large cavern with tunnels, making them know this would be their home but also their place of gratitude, their constant reminder of their origin and who they were.

A holy site, theirs to maintain, but it was also one in which they could induce themselves with his teachings.

At the center of this holy site, he left an orb. A token of protection, which would aid in concealing the location of the holy site, but not the fowlfolk themselves.

He also gave his creations his divine law.

- Do not inflict unnecessary suffering.
- Do not force your will upon others by force. Be just.
- Oblivion is your enemy.
- Convert others to the true path.
- Strive for greatness, cast off your mortal shells.
- Seek moderation in the understandings of the universe.
- Indulge yourselves in the fleshy desires. But always be wary of evil.
- The wicked shall not go unpunished.

These eight teachings would come to represent the basics of Reverion, the holy symbol of his being the number 8. Or rather the infinity sign.

Summary: Monologues as he creates his mortal bird people, a holy site dedicated to himself as a big cave underground and an artifact which aids in concealing the site. Plus giving them some basic laws to unlive by.

MP

MP: - 5 Spent.

- 3 For creating the Fowlfolk race (Non-undead at start, carnivores)
- 1 Creation of holy site. (The great catachasm)
- 1 Orb of concealment ( Artifact. Orb which aids in concealing the holy site)

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

There were a stirring. A twirl in the beyond, an orb of liquid black was taking form, growing and then warping it's appearance, jagged large bonelike pieces sticking out of it and then... skin... feathers of darkest black. A pair of glowing eyes flared open, hidden peeking out from behind the large wall of feathers that almost seem to make a ball, it's eyes wandered as if searching for something. Someone. There was something beckoning him forth, but who or what was it? Who or what were he himself? He existed, of that there were no doubt.

His white pupils gazed into the direction of the scroll, the Khodex.

"Who dares? What dares to call me forth? You beckon, this I do reckon. These eyes of mine sear ye, my wings of pitched black... hear me!"

With a scream the figure's blackened wings parted from it's folded state and revealed his full form rising to stand on two legs.

"My emergence from the dwelling cold, the path to my design it will fold. Revere me, fear me. I am Reverion. I am, that I know. Thus you will and also shall be. Let us walk together in the place between..." Reverion mused softly, his taloned hand reaching out for the scroll.

"I shall carve you, like the path ahead. Let your core carry my creed, let my power be the sowed seed. All that has come, and shall forever come. Find yourself worthy and become akin to me."

He added his desire and power to the scroll.

Summary

Reverion wakes up from nothingness and finds himself to be existing, and gives himself the name Reverion while at the same time being dramatic. He has a (evil?) monologue with the Khodex of his intentions of making other things akin to himself. Therefor he adds his aid in the creation of the universe and as a little extra spicing adds undeath as a thing that exist, a reward to those who may strive to exist as he does. Becoming 'gods' themselves, in that they will no longer live or die from old age. Does not exclude having to pay tax in the future.

MP

All 4 to help create the universe and also make undeath a possibility, it is a state inbetween life and death, set into place by Reverion. The state of undeath may wary from case to case basis and just how much power went into it. It does not exist naturally in the world, but has it's origin in his divine essence.

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

Lord of Re-Emergence, Lord of second chances, Gravengeance, Rightious Revenant, God of Neverdust, Talon Justice, Master of Vandead, Corvus Corpus, God of thralls (Name used by non-faithful),

Domain
Undeath

Description

Reverion holds domain over undeath, which has earnt him the ire of many other gods, for he seeks to whisk away the souls of the dead to his own embrace to let them be born anew in an undead form. However they must be willing to be reborn, or he may not grant it. In very, very rare circumstances he would make someone get to unlife in this manner to teach them a lesson or because they do not realize their importance yet. He would despise seeing powerful beings of high morals to simply pass into the afterlife, seeing them as not only a shining examples but also as a potential soldier in his army of the undying.

An army which may someday be used to topple the godly pantheon of it's hypocrytes, as far as he is concerned. He seeks to bestow his gift upon those who have undone quests, those who crave for revenge upon having been murdered or wronged, or simply those which which to serve their respective masters for an extended period of time.

The gift of undeath must be offered and taken, not forced upon anyone. A god who values personal integrity and being masters of their own will. He advocates moderation of knowledge, for some knowledge may be too much for minds to comprehend. Moderation and self-maintenence is the pathway to the greater understanding as far as he is concerned. The focus must never be swayed by promise of an easier pathway.

Reverion believes life should not be taken lightly, as when life ends, there is always a slimmer of a chance that a servant of, or God of Neverdust forbid, Voi or Szukaj-życia will -steal- the soul before it could be delivered to the Lord of Re-Emergence's gentle taloned hand.

Appearance

Description

Reverion has a calm demeanor, every word uttered by him is chosen carefully, many times his words bear more meanings than one aswell. He despises unnecessary cruelty and injustice, he harbors strong feelings for vengeance and revenge. His ultimate goal is to become the overgod of the pantheon.

When called to battle, Reverion wields what can only be described as a sword-staff, the blade as long as the staff section. It's name being the Unmaker. He fights using acrobatic manuevers and flight using his black birdlike wings, his clawed talon-like fingers and feet being used as secondary weapons. He relies more on quickness and verbal play to wound his foes. He is lean in figure, built like an acrobat and he is as tall as about an average human but with pointed ears. He is adorned by feathers, tribal looking tattooes and his eyes are glowing fiercely with a white pupil in the middle, so when his gaze does land on you, you truly cannot mistake his nature.

Musical Theme

Harp!

youtube.com/watch?v=kAFKsdb27yQ

Divinus Mk. 8: The Eleventh Cycle (A God Roleplay)

Reverion

Lord of Re-Emergence, Lord of second chances, Gravengeance, Rightious Revenant, God of Neverdust, Talon Justice, Master of Vandead, Corvus Corpus, God of thralls (Name used by non-faithful),

Domain
Undeath

Description

Reverion holds domain over undeath, which has earnt him the ire of many other gods, for he seeks to whisk away the souls of the dead to his own embrace to let them be born anew in an undead form. However they must be willing to be reborn, or he may not grant it. In very, very rare circumstances he would make someone get to unlife in this manner to teach them a lesson or because they do not realize their importance yet. He would despise seeing powerful beings of high morals to simply pass into the afterlife, seeing them as not only a shining examples but also as a potential soldier in his army of the undying.

An army which may someday be used to topple the godly pantheon of it's hypocrytes, as far as he is concerned. He seeks to bestow his gift upon those who have undone quests, those who crave for revenge upon having been murdered or wronged, or simply those which which to serve their respective masters for an extended period of time.

The gift of undeath must be offered and taken, not forced upon anyone. A god who values personal integrity and being masters of their own will. He advocates moderation of knowledge, for some knowledge may be too much for minds to comprehend. Moderation and self-maintenence is the pathway to the greater understanding as far as he is concerned. The focus must never be swayed by promise of an easier pathway.

Reverion believes life should not be taken lightly, as when life ends, there is always a slimmer of a chance that a servant of, or God of Neverdust forbid, Voi or Szukaj-życia will -steal- the soul before it could be delivered to the Lord of Re-Emergence's gentle taloned hand.

Appearance

Description

Reverion has a calm demeanor, every word uttered by him is chosen carefully, many times his words bear more meanings than one aswell. He despises unnecessary cruelty and injustice, he harbors strong feelings for vengeance and revenge. His ultimate goal is to become the overgod of the pantheon.

When called to battle, Reverion wields what can only be described as a sword-staff, the blade as long as the staff section. It's name being the Unmaker. He fights using acrobatic manuevers and flight using his black birdlike wings, his clawed talon-like fingers and feet being used as secondary weapons. He relies more on quickness and verbal play to wound his foes. He is lean in figure, built like an acrobat and he is as tall as about an average human but with pointed ears. He is adorned by feathers, tribal looking tattooes and his eyes are glowing fiercely with a white pupil in the middle, so when his gaze does land on you, you truly cannot mistake his nature.

Musical Theme

Harp!

youtube.com/watch?v=kAFKsdb27yQ

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Reverio

He had felt something, something warm and soft, and a familiar voice. It wasn't an unpleasant voice, but why did it fill him with the sense of impending doom. Then words came back to him, as echoes in his head.

'Trickery? Thieving minou? The relic of Albion...' Reverio's eyes flashed open and he sat up in shock, his eyes opening wide. He gasped and panted to himself.

What had happened? Then he came to the realization.

'Ken... tricked me... my sword my sword is gone. Lyngurium Lie! She has the swords!' His eyes shimmered as he came to the realization, that the worst possible scenario had come to pass. He had not only lost an ally, he had been deceived, and now the enemy of the entire world had likely two out of three keys needed to open the door which was his to open.

'This is your fault Ken! YOU BETRAYED MY TRUST!' He clenched his hands into fists to the point that his nails would make his hands bleed slightly, his teeth grinding together. His anger was however suddenly quenched, when he realized... where the hell were he? There was a pleasant fragnance in the air, but why did it cause his brain and body to scramble, like a duckling having walked into the fox den. He was in a wide bed? Wait. He knew this decoration, this scent. It was usually accompanied by... his thought pattern was interupted by spotting a bump on the bed just close to where he was lying. He instinctively reached out to lift the blanket.

A sweatdrop sliding down his cheek, there was no way that-

"Huh?" He said unknowingly aloud. Reverio screamed out loud upon removing the blanket, causing nearby birds outside the mansion to fly away from their branches upon the trees.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Lynnwell and ???

Lynnwell ignored the voice of a greenhaired young man on her way down an alleyway, briefly throwing a glance to the TV screen of a nearby shop. Spotting a picture of a criminal. Or so the Rhean news would label it. This was however a familiar face to her, a minor shock even.

"Shal-Akkun..." Her clawed hand reached her chin as she walked in thoughts.

'To think thee would be born anew. Such cruel irony, thee who spoke so dearly about life being a one time occurance. Thee were wrong about me and thyself aswell. I wonder, were thine life as void as mine hast become? Nay matter how fair a song is, time shalt undo it, just like mine home.' The pinkhaired girl threw a glance to the sky, it was the only thing which looked the same as it did... those many years ago.

'Oh Laurel... where art thee now?' She took out the small portrait she had relieved from his school and looked it over, her clawed hand feeling the form of the face drawn upon it. She then was about to turn a corner when someone bumped into her, the portrait fell out of her clawed fingers and ended up into the hands of whomever she had collided with. Her feline looking eyes looked slightly up at who had the misfortune of meeting her and laying hands on her memorophilia.

"Give it back." Lynnwell said as her eyes set at a pair of orange eyes, slightly obscured by green-yellowish hair. It was a young man clad in what could only be described to be a military attire. Was it a member of the Rhean authorities? She doubted it. He looked young.

"Hmph. You should watch where you are going girl. Also I do not appreciate such a rude tone... show some manners." The young man spoke out, he reached out and looked at the portrait he just caught. It wasn't anyone he knew. Lynnwell's eyes wandered over the young man and then to the portrait.

"It is thee whom shalt show respect to thine elders, which are wiser and stronger than thou art." Lynnwell's eyes slightly narrowed as she took a step forwards with her hand outstretched for the portrait, waiting for it to be handed over.

"Tch. Quite the nerve on you girl. You look younger than me. If you were anyone important, I would know your name. I'll give you this stupid portrait back, but you will appologize and show some manners. So let's hear it." Orpheuz placed one of his hands at his waist as he waited to hear an appology.

"Looks may be deceiving, wight. This grimalkin hast bore many names, if thee art as knowledgeable as thee claim... child. Then have thee ever heard of Lyngurium Lie?" Lynnwell's pose seemed to change as if she was analyzing the young man in front of her, she assumed a pose which was...dominant? Like a king posing for a portrait.

"What did you call me? The name is.. Orpheuz. You do well to remember it. Your manners are lacking. Hmph." Orpheuz snorted but his mind wandered, where had he heard that name before? Lyngurium Lie? Was it something he had read about? He couldn't quite place it. Was this person in front of him someone famous perhaps? An author of a book or something?

'This girl is strange. Her pose has changed... she looks relaxed... in control. I do not like it.' Orpheuz eyes felt like narrowing, but he decided to hold back his immediate thoughts.

"I do not know of this Lyngurium Lie. Care to enlighten me girl? And what's with the old-man tongue?" He said with an almost taunting tone.

"A saviour o' tribes, a warrior beside a saint, a foe to the friend of Rhea. That thee know not of me, proves mine former words true. Thee art but a child toying with flame, careful lest it shalt burn thee." Lynnwell said softly, but there was no doubt about it, there were weights behind her words.

"You continue trying to insult me girl. I do not enjoy picking a fight with a girl, but you look like you are begging for a fight. Careful so you don't get into too deep waters cat-girl, you might drown." Orpheuz raised his free hand up and began to conjure a stream of pitch black water, allowing it to form a vortex of spinning water in his hand.

"Like thee can bend water to thy will, I can break thine will with mine. Hand over the portrait now, meager wight. I will ask no more time." Lynnwell held out her clawed hand more urgently, having seemingly grown tired of speaking with the young man.

"Cocky. I wonder how long you can keep up that cool... appologize or I will have to teach you about respect." Orpheuz clarified, his hand outstretched in a hostile manner. Lynnwell quickly lunged forwards, her clawed fist connecting with the young man's chest, sending him hurling through the air for a couple of metres, before the young man would seemingly blink out of existance only to reappear further away clutching his chest.

"Unff! You underhanded scoundrel! How dare you strike me!" Orpheuz gritted his teeth in pain but more so irritation, not at having been punched by this random girl. But how he had been unable to see her fist, she was fast. She was on par with both the fire users of his past, perhaps even faster? Had this girl somehow replaced them in this world? He wasn't sure but there was something he had to establish no matter what. The pecking order. Lynnwell looked over at Orpheuz, her pose changing to a defensive one, her both clawed hands raised in readyness.

"Take this!" Orpheuz created another vortex in his hand before three circular pressurised sawblades of water wouuld hurl through the air towards Lynnwell. The girl quickly sidestepped the first one, then hurled up into the air to avoid the second one, then dodging the third by pressing her legs against the nearby wall, hurling her body diagonally forwards.

'What?!' Orpheuz held out his hand to channel the remaining water in the vortex into a whirlwind funnel of water aimed for the incoming catgirl. It landed on her, wrapping her into the thrashing waters.

"Hah! Caught you little cat. How does it feel being so wet behind the ears? Caught up in a magical washing machine..." Orpheuz smirked, this was what was needed to teach the girl some manners. Or so he thought. A few steps could be heard as he witnessed the feline looking girl simply step through the water, struggling but managing to push through it.

'She can resist the pull of my water powers? Tch. No matter. Everything freezes.' Orpheuz pulled the water baqck abit to wrap around Lynnwell again before turning it all into ice. Pitch black ice. "You left me no choice. That look suits you. Stay in there for abit to cool off won't you?" Orpheuz put one of his hands confidently at his waist. Then there was a loud cracking sound, followed by a ray of light before the ice shattered into thousands of pieces, and out of the ice came the feline girl flying into the air like a burning comet, coming right at him.

"Tch!" Orpheuz quickly teleported himself up into the air and midway falling he began to gather his watery powers again to shoot two jets of water towards Lynnwell who dodged both of them in the air, coming close enough to give Orpheuz a kick into the chest, sending him hurling through the air into a nearby alleyway with trashcans.

"Thou art not his equal." The pinkhaired girl blew some air through her nose as she turned to pick up the portrait, looking at it with a content look.

"It's not over you nonamer! I didn't traverse through the worlds to bicker with a feline bitch." Orpheuz called out from behind her, having gotten out of the other alleyway, a strip of blood coming from his mouth.

"Dost thee see thyself as Laurel? As his equal?" Lynnwell asked aloud, curious what the arrogant young man would answer, not that any answer would truly matter to her.

"That arrogant tone again! I don't care for your prattle about a long dead founder, the future is where Rhea lies. Not the past! Judging by your choice in words you might not be part of it for long."

"Thou which know not history art doomed to repeat it anew, folly child." Lynnwell said aloud, her eyes staring coldly at Orpheuz at a distance.

"Hmph. You mistake me for other STUPID people. You should be taught a lesson, but I have more pressing matters at hand. Perhaps you might even be able to play a part in things to come, once you learn to show some manners." Orpheuz spit his words out, clearly irritated.

"Thee think thyself a seer? A young wight who think he knows it all. I pity such folly." Lynnwell turned around to walk away with her portrait in hand.

'Insolent furry. No matter, not even using force would likely work on this thickheaded girl. I have more pressing matters at hand either way, but this girl... she had speed and strength. If only she would have some idea of respect she could have been a suitable ally. What a shame.' Orpheuz spit some blood to the side and wiped his mouth with his jacket, his eyes almost burning with ambition and anger.