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    1. Player 2 9 yrs ago

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Frisk, New York, Outside Grand Central Station
@Gummi Bunnies


The child looked up at the knight behind squinted lids, appearing almost lazy in demeanour, remaining silent for a good few moments before just giving a non-committal shrug. Although non-verbal, it was as good an answer as any. Frisk honestly had no clue what was going on, they'd just been going with the flow. Admittedly, their grasp on the flow lead them to the extra dimensional toy train, so maybe they were onto something.

"Don't know. Just been doing what feels right." They spoke in curt terms, just enough to develop upon the not-quite-so telling shrug. Frisk looked away from the knight - a rather brave thing to do considering their circumstances - and pointed in the direction of the palace.

"Have you been there?"

The toy train in Frisk's hand felt very evident, its presence never quite faded into the back of their mind, all the while remaining unaware of the other party in search of them within the station.
@thewizardguy
Frisk, Grand Central Terminal, Gift Shop


Gift shops were great.

If only there was someone at the register, maybe they'd buy something. But there was noone, just a bunch of nothing and some train models, and miniature statues of a big green lady. Maybe that still counted as nothing, tiny trains and tiny statue ladies were pretty lame. Frisk settled for browsing, eyes falling upon some of the lame trains which seemed to line the back wall of the Grand Central gift shop - or rather, this gift shop. There were a few from what they'd seen.

Among the dusty and somewhat off-coloured miniature plastic trains, one stuck out. Where the silver paint on the rest of them had sort of just become a dull grey, this one still had that NEW and FRESH train shine to it. Was it new? Had someone been looking after this one and only this one? It is a mystery. Enough so for Frisk to reach out and touch it at least -

The station, buzzing with life. No dust, no overgrowth. Hustle and bustle. Sound of the tracks in use deeper in. Cars outside. Excessive honking. Honking does not make the traffic go faster.

Frisk's hand flinched back at the brief vision, and after a moments consideration, took the train once more. They were not a genius, but they did not have to be one to know that was important.

With a pocket full of spaghetti and a magic toy train in hand, Frisk was ready for the next challenge. They didn't actually know what that was. Fresh air sounded nice, though. The child left the mysterious, plot progressing gift shop, through the terminal, and back into the outside world. Which was suddenly quite different.
Frisk, Grand Central Terminal


The ground rumbling caused Frisk to falter in their reading of the tourist pamphlet, but little more. Something had just happened, but being indoors Frisk had no clue as to what that something was.

They'd had returned to Grand Central Terminal a few moments ago and the first thing they noticed was how daunting the building looked from the outside, with a statue seemingly leering down at them when they'd entered. Once they'd made their way down the stairs leading to the iconic main "hall" of the station, the "switch" of the hypothetical puzzle became clear. The information booth, right in the centre of it all. So the child clambered their way into the booth, the golden door to the circular area remaining open behind them, and began searching for what they could.

The computers probably wouldn't help. There was no power, let alone functional monitors, so the pamphlets behind the desks would have to do. The first one had read:

"40 Things to do in New York!!!!"


Did Frisk really want to do 40 things? That's a lot of things to do.

They put it down, deciding against the quest to do 40 things. Instead, they familiarized them self with the city's layout from a map and even a bit of the underground's.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is where keeping "pacing" and "reading comprehension" in mind is important. Just because BKburke's character showed up in a post, does not mean a majority of the RP has to (or should) literally jump on him. And if more people had taken the time to read, more people would also be fully aware that BKburke's character should have been basically unreachable at this point. What SHOULD be happening at this point is a discussion on how to respond, and further establishing who our characters are and their respective positions within this new paradigm, not a dong waving contest where someone tries to out-supersayian someone else.

Come on. Right now the RP just feels like it's going at a forced, break neck pace and BKburke isn't exactly getting the opportunity to set up his antagonist as that, an antagonist. Roll it back and think things through some more.
Harpokrates, Olympus, "Main Hall"

@Stephanie Dola



Trivial. That was the only way Harpokrates could describe it. The reluctance and down-right refusal to answer the call of a God of War to best a monster of this (relatively) dangerous scale was foolishness. From the days of old, gods had banded together to defeat such enemies, and in some cases even put systems in place. Apep, among the greatest of these creatures, was to be battled by Ra and those who manned the solar arks. Typhon had been bested by the Twelve Olympians acting in unison, with no voice of dissent among them despite their fractured nature. Ragnarok needn't be mentioned in detail. In a way, even the children of Anu had opposed Gilgamesh the Man-god, although his status as a "monster" was more the monstrosity which human society could become.

...And these were to be the ones who inherited the heavens, guardians of Man and the garden which is the world? They could not even get the basics right. It appeared contagious, as even Loki seemed to be falling victim to it.

But Harpokrates was aware of the plans at work. They were the natural enemy to any schemer, oh so privy to their plots and contingencies. It was only a case picking a plan to support, and watching the others fall apart. Undoubtedly some of the schemers were all too aware of what side she would choose, and had incorporated that into their own plans, something she also counted on.

Ah, the wonders of authority and omniscience. Communication became as trivial as the Merged's behaviour.

"Weapon-Wielder, I believe it may be best to lead by example. The New Gods, me among them, are an evidently..." The momentary silence created the image of Harpokrates' face scrunching up in contemplation behind their mask, "rowdy. Young and unknowing. It may be best to simply go, and display what you can do as a god of war." Her hands came together, sleeves of the robe overlapping and completely hiding the hands. Wizard, sage, oracle - Harpokrates appeared to be many things, in this attire.

"I am no combatant. I can merely advise. I wish you luck, Macnia." The girl bowed deeply.
Frisk, Grand Central Terminal
@LaXnyd


The child simply had not noticed the sniper. Frisk continued onwards down the street, the spaghetti an ever present eye-catching feature. It was one thing for there to be a child on the streets, but a child with spaghetti? Truly the enigma code of their time. While Frisk failed to notice their being observed, it was difficult to ignore how this circumstance seemed to strangely mirror their first venture into strange places. Waking up in a bed of flowers, but with no flower-friend to greet them this time around. No parental goats yet either.

A good or a bad thing? They couldn't say.

Frisk's ventures through the Underground had taught them much, mostly about puzzles and people - especially the former - and this situation was starting to feel like a puzzle, just less of a spikes-blocking-the-way kind of puzzle and more of a how-to-make-this-situation-progress-positively puzzle. There was some 'switch' they had to find to open the way, to move forward... - Aaand they'd completely forgotten the first thing they'd learned in the ruins.

The solution to a puzzle was never too far from where it started. There was a mechanism which allowed it to progress, so...

Aaand back to the place they'd woken up in. Frisk turned on their heel and made their way back inside Grand Central Terminal, and decided to actually look around the place carefully this time. The child couldn't say much about the layout of the place, but it seemed like it used to be some sort of communal transport station... like trains. Woah. There had to be something which would give the child some indication of what to do in this situation.
Harpokrates, Mount Olympus
@Stephanie Dola


And so the second domino fell. The upstartish way of the Merged had set off a chain reaction, a period of disorder which would undoubtedly - which already had - lead to things which were kept in line by the old ways falling apart. Indeed one of the many vile children of that Greek abomination, Typhon, had found it its way out of its prison. That, from the sounds of it, was no secret - nor did Harpokrates need to be a god to hear. The young, new god also understood the potential gravity of the situation, were it not acted on.

Where she was before did not matter. What did matter was, in one moment, everything stopped. Everything. Across worlds and realms, every instance of thing-ness froze other than at one point. And when everything resumed, she was elsewhere. A different angle in the speck which was all existence, a different perspective. Only this perspective was on Mount Olympus.

It would be rude for the new girl not to be present at an elder's call, after all.

There was nothing glorious about her sudden appearance, simply apparating into being at the peak Olympus, the former seat of Zeus' power, not emerging from any shadow or with any sort of effect. Standing close to the "edge" of the main hall, but not quite enough to exclude themself from any form of social contact, Harpokrates bowed her head before Mac Lugh, eyes peering at him through the eyeholes of her golden mask.

"Harpokrates answers your call, Weapon-Wielder. I am bound by duty to assist in this matter." The voice of a child, the words of one who had done this before. Unlike some, this new god would not disrespect her elders. She knew the ropes, New Unmerged World Order or otherwise.



Name: Harpokrates

Gender: Female

Godly Parents: ???

Sphere of Control: Secrecy and Silence.

Appearance: From wherever this deity came, it has the appearance of a child no older than 10 cycles of the sun, possibly a couple of years older or younger. Harpokrates, despite their youth, garbs themself like a sage in a heavy hooded cloak and regal robes, accented with gold lining and plating, along with a mask which can be found in place nigh-permanently. Hinding behind the mask is dark skin, if somewhat leaning towards the "grey" side of things, and stark blue eyes.

Personality: As is very much appropriate of their respective authorities, Harpokrates behaves in a knowing manner, but makes a point of never yielding what it is they actually know. Other than that, it's difficult to get a read on Harpocrates - while not a malevolent individual, they seem rather uncaring, but will occassionally drop sick wisdom fire unbecoming of such a young deity. The sound of their voice seems to change occassionally, and not in any great or mystical way - they simply have a voice which seems to belong to a different young girl in each interaction.

Sacred Animal: The Falcon


Weapon(s): None (?)

Other: -


Name: Harpokrates

Gender: Female

Godly Parents: ???

Sphere of Control: Secrecy and Silence.

Appearance: From wherever this deity came, it has the appearance of a child no older than 10 cycles of the sun, possibly a couple of years older or younger. Harpokrates, despite their youth, garbs themself like a sage in a heavy hooded cloak and regal robes, accented with gold lining and plating, along with a mask which can be found in place nigh-permanently. Hinding behind the mask is dark skin, if somewhat leaning towards the "grey" side of things, and stark blue eyes.

Personality: As is very much appropriate of their respective authorities, Harpokrates behaves in a knowing manner, but makes a point of never yielding what it is they actually know. Other than that, it's difficult to get a read on Harpocrates - while not a malevolent individual, they seem rather uncaring, but will occassionally drop sick wisdom fire unbecoming of such a young deity. The sound of their voice seems to change occassionally, and not in any great or mystical way - they simply have a voice which seems to belong to a different young girl in each interaction.

Sacred Animal: The Falcon


Weapon(s): None (?)

Other: -
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