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PostPosted: Thu Oct 16, 2014 10:32 am 
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Draped in the mantle of power after his sacrifice to the Holy Spirit, the Pentecostal cleric Dan Wheeler arrived at Amersham station shortly before midnight - moments before the 11:55 train came whining to a stop along the deserted platform. Dressed in the usual garb of his office - black pants, black short-sleeved dress shirt and white clerical collar - Wheeler might have looked out of place surrounded by the dross of the train station, and this physical dissimilarity echoed in their auras: Amersham station seemed to pulse with a sickly dark energy that sapped light from the peripheries, threatening to subsume the center; while Wheeler carried his own energies, bestowed upon him by the Holy Spirit, rippling within him like corded muscle beneath flesh, like a rip tide beneath a calm ocean surface.

But there were other lights in the darkness, lights that stood out to the cleric's heightened aural senses. None held the same 'flavor' as his own Pentecostal glow, but in potency and determinacy there were powers here that equaled his, perhaps even surpassed. These forces had gathered somewhat together near one of the overhead structure's pillars as though the various auras they possessed were like strange attractors. Wheeler felt compelled to join as well - either these men and women were like him eager to investigate the peculiarities of this mass 'kidnapping,' or they were in some way connected to the events. Either way he would meet them head on - while draped in the mantle of the Holy Spirit, subtlety was not one of the cleric's modi operandi.

"...none the less, we should go, if, my hunch is correct, some of you might be here for similar reasons... if so, I would gladly offer any aid." This said by a man dressed in fine fashion, exuding a sleek elegance that was both exotic and modern. The man then turned toward the train, as did several of the others.

"Should we be boarding this train?" Wheeler voiced his concerns to those remaining, but pitching his voice loud enough for the others already heading toward the train car to hear. "I don't think it's the one that was attacked - but even if it were, shouldn't we search between the stations for clues?" He failed to make any introduction but somehow that didn't seem out of place, as though the strangeness of the unfolding events made such normal interactions unnecessary. The idea of searching the tracks didn't appeal to Wheeler; even draped in the mantle of the Holy Spirit the prospect of venturing into the darkness of the rail system in the small hours of the morning, whether in the open air or throughout the many tunnels the tracks passed through, filled him with a sense of foreboding that bordered on dread. But, like with a toothache that his tongue couldn't stop probing however painful, he would prod at the source of his unease, somehow hoping it would provide relief.

As he spoke, however, Wheeler walked toward the same car the others were approaching. He wasn't eager to search the tracks alone. If any volunteered to join him - an odd idea he knew, to join a complete stranger in searching darkened railway expanses after midnight - then he would set off on the search as soon as the train pulled away. If no one wished to join him however, then he too would board the train, for the cleric could tell that these men and women would be of great aid in his search for answers.

As he walked Wheeler fished out the small metal crucifix from where it rested against his chest, tucked beneath his shirt. He gave it a quick kiss as he made a silent prayer, feeling the comforting stirring of power within him. His sacrifice earlier tonight had bestowed upon him the charismata, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, but such powers lasted for only so long, depending on time and how much he drew from them. Whatever happened tonight, either aboard the train car or on foot between the two stations, Wheeler hoped that he proved up to the task that had been set before him.


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PostPosted: Thu Oct 23, 2014 2:09 am 

you catch more flies with honey but you catch more honeys being fly

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Jamie hadn't quite realized that he was staring. He was sure that he knew it in the back of his mind, but it wasn't until the man he'd been staring at turned in the direction of himself and the young, rather rebellious looking girl near him. He should have broken his stare when he'd had the chance, as now that the man had turned toward him it felt near impossible to do so.

"This will be your last chance to back out of this business. I can't say for sure that you haven't already raised attention. Gods know just being here may be enough for you to have aroused something nasty that will follow you like your own damn shadow. If you had no idea of what I was talking about before and just wanted to take a train home It would probably be better for your health and sanity to take a cab instead. Not that I really think any of you will back out now. Something inside you knows that you have to act sooner or later even if your conscious thoughts are running though how insane my words are."

Mental. Absolutely mental.

Jamie listened intently in spite of himself, though. It was almost like listening to one of Darren's speeches in a way, though at least Darren wasn't so completely full of it. 'Something inside you knows that you have to act sooner or later'? No, something inside of him just wanted to take the train for some odd, unexplained reason. Even if he was just taking the train on a whim, it didn't mean that something inside of him felt he needed to act, and certainly not in the way that this man was describing. And it definitely didn't mean that something was going to follow him around like a shadow, either. It just meant that something inside of him was probably sleep deprived and too easily influenced by horrible co-workers. That's all there was to it, no more, no less.

The screech of metal against metal broke Jamie from his inner ramblings regarding a certain pragmatic individual and he stood to meet the train as it halted at the platform. He strode toward the car directly in front of him, as did a few others including. As he made to step into the train car, another voice spoke up. "Should we be boarding this train?" Jamie turned his head in the direction of the new voice, a tad taken aback when he trailed it back to what appeared to be a pastor, judging by his attire. "I don't think it's the one that was attacked - but even if it were, shouldn't we search between the stations for clues?"

Oh no. Not another one.

Exhaling deeply - he was never one for sighing - Jamie entered the car and dropped down to a window seat, digging in his coat for his phone and headphones, putting them in and leaning to the side, content to resting his head against the ice-cold window and tuning the world out.

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PostPosted: Wed Oct 29, 2014 2:25 am 
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In a mad world.
Only the mad are sane

--------------



It should have been so easy. At least, that's what her rational mind had said.
'Just turn up that chaotic ensemble playing bliss in your ears. Pivot on the stubbornly planted heel and retrace those dust trodden footsteps up those littered stairs'. Surely somewhere out there in the busy crowded world, there would still be a half drunken cab driver still lurking about the streets waiting numb for their weekly wages. And surely there was a lazy bus filled to the windows with careless minds and cigarette smoke; puffing and passing by this area sometime within the next hour or so. Something. Anything. The common sense would say: 'Just walk out of here. Run. Go home. You have done your share. You're finished. You don't need more regrets. Please just go... please.
But that was nothing compared to the other. No where close. Behind that voice. Behind the pitifully pleading conscious, there was another sound. Quiet. Niggling. Teasing. Whispering it's gentle subtleties between each stale tainted breath. Sweetly singing it's flirtatious lullaby of what if's and could be's. 'You know it likes these puzzles. These places. Stay with these people. Play these games. You know you want to jump on those tracks again. You know you want to. Come on. Come on! Let's play . It didn't stop.
That logic and instinct. Reason and intuition. Over and over and over again. The arguments went back and forth, racing a grand Prix in her mind within s second of glancing at the stairs for the forth time of coming here and yet.... Yet the only words the female took heed to.... the one voice Leonora thought of answering, was the sultry multi-pitched, genteel mewling of the unusual mau feline in front of her. Yep. Leonora Maietta was talking.... to a cat.

Perhaps the Doctors had been right after all.


I'm HIS carer, thankyouverymuch. Maybe Soon I will be yours... now, pick me up, that bag of yours seems comfortable.~'

A tired sigh left the slightly down turned lips as she absently dragged the steady fingers through the cat's fur, allowing her hand to lightly trace the tail to it's tip before scratching it around the newly groomed ears once more.
Of course she wasn't really talking to the seemingly pretentious animal. How could she? That's ridiculous. Her mature mind would constantly remind her that humans were incapable of understanding the complicated language of felines. There was no way they could comprehend them.
But then again, when she was of a far more imaginative age, the young girl had come across another cat which looked just as scraggly and lost as she had been. When this old patched up creature had started yowling, crying at her in it's fractured voice, Leonora had just pictured what it was saying and replied. No one else would listen so she had thought, why not? She had never expected to get an answer and for it to make sense in her twisted little mind. But before the child knew it, she was having a simple conversation with someone she could really connect to. In the end, it became something that she had never grew out of.

"I should have known. My apologies" She had said, letting a half smile lighten the confliction in her hardened features.
"But I am my own carer. Don't think you can boss me around like you do with.....


The sound...was unmistakable. The bone grating scream of metal grinding against metal. The rumbling of an engine like a monster within a mountain. And the roaring winds that followed like the smoke trail from it's mouth.
The train itself was the perfect match to its run down little station. In fact, the woman would almost say that it was like two connecting puzzle pieces. With it's unique, distinctive clunking as it rumbled down the rails. The shredded edges and faded paint; it looked like the old locomotive had made a couple trips through an elephant graveyard in it's extensive life cycle, with no one caring enough to give it a clean up. It was forgotten just like the train station it had arrived in. Another miserable pile of metal buried under the footsteps and the lives of the people that walked through it. However...there was something else about this that caught her attention. Something that stood out from sounds and appearance of the London Train. Something off: That's right. It was the smell. An evil concoction of iron and rust mixed with the scent of rotting meat, smoke and oil. The last time she breathed in toxic aroma it was more than a year ago and in a very different place. A very... violent place. The tainted oxygen. The musty air so thick with this miasma was something that you could never fully remove from the lungs.
And you never forget.

"Yeah sure... go ahead. Help yourself to the tuna sandwich if you can get to it. Just.... be careful not to scratch anything in there okay. I have some... special equipment that I don't want damaged"


She knew it was her voice that spoke, but the words were as distant as the place before
Her attention was on the train... or rather the people that were getting on to it. At first it was just the stragglers that walked towards the mobile wreckage. The ordinary disbelieving civilians, the morbidly curious students. She watched them as the first moved to their assigned cars.... then slowly, slowly move off towards the third car from the front. One man in particular; she could have sworn he was going to move in to the car before it. He even got his hand on the door way, shifted his weight and was about to lift his foot off the ground... when he too suddenly let go and walked towards the other car. And not only that; now those other individuals, the stranger entities that she had singled out just moments before were starting to follow them as well.
One by one they filed on. First the man who spoke up with his strange words further fueling the conflict in thoughts and then the angst filled teenager following close behind. It only took a moment's glance for her instincts to zero in on their selection of weapons like a snipers cross hairs on an easy target. It was.... interesting. Their choices were predictable and his would help him in the long run. But she might have well been wielding a pencil as a defense.
Next was the Egyptian styled gentleman. Like the younger girl, it was the first time she had heard him speak. He mentioned that he too was here to find the cause behind this phenomenon, and that the feline in her bag was named Belle. A name that quite well suited the sophisticated creature. She watched as he strode proudly in to the car, taking a seat in the disabled spot like a Pharaoh assuming his throne.
The female who bravely.... boldly stood up to the hunters challenge was next followed by the anxious male, who still continued to mirror her thoughts of this whole situation as he sat down and tuned the world out with his headphones.
The last person who approached was the only one that hesitated. A priest type person with more questions and more ideas.
To her perceptions he was the strangest. People of God had a faith to be reckoned with. So what was this one afraid of?

And then. It was her turn.

Turn around now. It's not too late.
Join in the game, play it again.


Adjusting the bag over her shoulder, the brunette headed past the rest of the train to the only used car in the tunnel.
At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the other parts of the train. They didn't smell, or look dirty. If anything they looked to be in better condition than the occupied area that people were drawn to. In fact, there was no sign or any indication why they would need to only go to that one car and not any of the others.
Either way it didn't matter to her. Leonora was not one to draw attention to herself, so like everyone else she hoisted herself up in to the third car from the front and found one of the only remaining empty seats towards the back. With her bag resting securely between her feet and music playing on a low volume in her ears, she then leaned back against the ancient stained seats and waited for one of the most tense train rides she would ever embark on in this city. Hoping that the occasional stare and strangled feeling in her gut would be the only things she would receive between now and when she could finally... finally return to her sky high apartment.

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PostPosted: Tue Nov 04, 2014 10:12 pm 
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A rhythmic tapping sound echoed through the halls of the Prison. It may have gone noticed during the middle of the day but in these wee hours of the morning, nobody seemed to be awake to appreciate the out of place melody. In truth, the tapping was perhaps a little bit subtle for even the roaming guards to take notice of.

A man fiddled lazily with something between his hands. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cell the knocking sound was coming from a small idol which he clutched in his pallid digits and was knocking against the floor. Alone in his cell the prisoner began to mutter beneath his breath, barely audible to even someone sitting right next to him. If any guards had been around to hear what was going on they may have had the sense to shut him up, perhaps fearing he was communicating with another prisoner through Morse code. Then again the percussion seemed to steady to be any sort of code, there were no breaks or silences between the steady sounds emanating from him.

All of a sudden the sounds stopped. His muttering and the tapping ceased giving wide berth to an eerie silence. He was communicating with something, after all, and he needed to give it time to respond.

"In time," came the reply from somewhere in the nether.

"I don't have much of that left," thick Irish accent slurred from the Prisoner's lips.

-----

The train was more than welcoming of the many passengers who boarded it, a disproportionate amount of them choosing the same car. At first impression the train seemed relatively normal, it was lit by the same lights as its comrades and felt more or less like taking the train any other night. The only difference was in the atmosphere. The lingering heaviness and not quite tangible smell and taste were a little thicker here though not alarmingly so. As the men and women would enter the train there would be a short pause before anything happened, maybe a minute at most. The doors, all at once across every car would hiss and close, signalling that it was ready to depart. By now, any aware individuals would know that if anything were going to happen on the eleven fifty five, it was much too late to get out of dodge.

With a screech the train began to lumber forward slowly at first but picking up speed as it dashed into the blackness between stations.

Behind the veil of the world, Something reeled. It saw as well as felt the unnatural peoples that descended on its dwelling and sought to anchor themselves into the events that it alone was privy to. Snarling from its perch the Something took stock of those vicious few who stuck out among the puerile meals which it revelled in. It saw their code, their akashic worthlessness. Nothing but pitiful scraps of animated fons. It was one though, that sat amongst them which was driving a nail deeper into the Something's head, causing it much discomfort. But that one was stronger than the rest or at least stuck out to its senses more clearly. There were those among them who seemed much weaker, easy prey indeed and it sought to strike at them first, as death often did.

It took one last sweep. There were two it could easily recognize the scent of for they were close to death and there were two it could tell were different from the masses but radiated differently than it had ever seen. There was one man who was bright. Bright, it decided, in that, he was the servant of a macabre God. There were at least two who seemed easier to claim, perhaps to lead the stronger to its lair in order to better deal with the interlopers. Thusly, a decision was made in the Something's conscious.

Perhaps a fraction of a moment before the event that was about to unfold, the cat, Belle, who lay nestled in the bag of the golden eyed woman would pop her head up, ears reeling and bearing teeth. Maybe the woman would notice, maybe she wouldn't. Either way there was no hope for her to take the necessary precautions to exercise this presence from the train.

It was in a flurry that, behind the youngest female of the troupe, the Psychopomp would make itself known to them. Here it was all flurry of arms and a blustering squall of shadows. The girl whose hair found a hard time making up its mind on the color was the closest to its form, as it was her that it had chosen. The ghastly thing would surely draw the attention of those others in the car, though peculiarly those in the small group of investigative persons would find themselves the only ones reacting to this at all. The others who had shown up to take the train home would seem unaware of this thing's presence in the slightest, merely sitting in their seats with their heads hung. At first, those among even the seekers who were not accustomed to such other worldly things would find themselves unable to acknowledge the thing, but, at least for the girl nearest it, that wouldn't last long.

From 'neath the quaking shadows four arms extended rapidly and they would encircle the girl's shoulders and sides tightly, long fingers pressing into the skin beneath her clothes hard enough to bruise her. Its fingernails, like thin razors and would cut through the threads adorning her and into her flesh opening shallow wounds on her shoulders and abdomen. Twisting violently the Psychopomp would rapidly fling itself towards the front most door of the train car and another slew of arms would scramble forth from its mass in an effort to pre-empt a defence against the others in the car. The girl in its grip would find herself thrown from its embrace and into the door of the train car with considerable force, though not enough to do any lasting damage but certainly enough to shock her.

The Psychopomp stayed between the seekers and the girl and they would have a second at most to react to it before its next move.

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PostPosted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 12:56 am 
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Without warning every muscle in Kristoff's body began to tighten as if drawn taut by the hand of God. The blood flowing through his veins normally the slow creep of magma beneath the earths core roared into a conflagration threatening to rupture forth into the outside world. Time stretched out and people became little more than embers of heat on the pale backdrop of frigid metal. Oh but there was a patch of what could only be described as negative space amid the chill a place where temperature itself had no meaning.

This was what those magi who dwelt in the scorched deserts of the east refereed to as subtle matter. In truth Kristoff understood it to be more akin to alien energies. In any case it was unwelcome here. There were hidden edicts that governed the way that the world worked and by breaking those the ones who commanded Kristoff's actions demanded a sacrifice in vitae.

The hands of the entity grasped at the girl their pallid digits digging into her supple flesh the wicked nails drawing forth sanguine rents. Kristoff being close to the waif made an almost instantaneous decision on the course of action to take. One hand reached into the folds of his coat and began to draw something from its depths. Without shifting his gaze from the partially manifested predator Kristoff spoke with a weight of authority not present in his voice before.

" Everyone - it seems to be having issues in achieving a full corporeal shape. That means that unless you are packing some real specialized **** for the job you can't do sweet **** all to harm it. I don't know the extent of the powers granted to you preacher but it might be a good idea to start using whatever you have. Soldier I suspect you have done this kind of thing before but don't shoot for it's main body or your bullets will probably just turn the poor girl to offal so if you do have some kind of magicked shots be damn careful aiming them."

While speaking Kristoff had produced a what appeared to be a combat knife. It was a far cry from the antique ritual blades of yore but Kristoff had etched runic symbols along the the side of the weapon making it a functional if unorthodox tool. Slashing the edge across the vein of his right arm blood began to pour from the open wound glistening the rainbow of gasoline before igniting in a violent combustion that sent waves of heat pulsing through the train. The blaze came to settle on the floor of the train eating away at the very metal that comprised the locomotives carriage. With his un-bloodied hand Kristoff plunged the stained dagger right into the heart of the flame his flesh showing no sings of burning or even irritation at the intense heat.

"What I am about to summon is going to be able to strike at the beings astral essence. However if you don't listen to anything else I say listen to this - it is NOT something that can be shown weakness. Do not avert your gaze from it and do not show fear. The beast coming through can tolerate weakness for it is the weak that it is coming to defend but cowardice it despises utterly."

Kristoff hoped that the young clerk in particular would have the sense to heed his warning but now was far too late. The summoned entity was coming through the breach. Eight inch talons scrabbled up from the burning portal before Kristoff and scaled limbs thick with wiry muscle pulled a quadruped shape into the world from those beyond. Five feet in length from head back legs, the creatures mouth was a nightmarish expanse of fangs intended as much to maim as to kill and at the tip of its tail a wicked pendulum of sharpened bone swung back and forth. Viridian scales covered the reptilian servitors body save from a dome of bone around its head in which a single cyclopean stared out into the carriage. Hissing low in it's throat the creature began to walk forward toward the shapeless mass it's three tongues tasting the air akin to a snake.


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PostPosted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 2:39 am 
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Something seems strange, Persephone thought as she leaned against one of the handrails. She didn’t sit: the first thing she’d learned running the streets was that if you were expecting trouble, you didn’t do something as stupid as relaxing in a chair. The atmosphere felt different; the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she frowned.

It was a similar feeling she’d felt in high school when she was being watched by the kids that had always bullied her. The feeling that she’d just been singled out as someone-- or something’s-- prey descended on her like a veil. Her frown turned to a scowl. This situation didn’t have much in her favor. Perry had good reflexes, and had an uncanny knack for figuring an opponent’s move before they made it. However, in a street fight, you could actually see who your were fighting. Right now, she couldn’t see anything, and all she had to go on was a prickling at the back of her neck.

It happened suddenly. An almost imperceptible weight hanging on her shoulders, followed by a burning sensation along her shoulders, arms and abdomen. The best way she could describe it was like being cut by a particularly sharp knife. You didn’t feel the blade so much as the sting it left in its wake. It ended up being that she wasn’t so far off in that description, as Perry could almost immediately feel the damp of blood along the affected areas.

Well, ****.

Persephone Lynn was no stranger to pain. Crying out in a fight didn’t do you any favors, so the only indication the teen gave to her predicament, aside from the evident blood drops along the bits of her skin that were exposed, was a locked jaw and an almost silent hiss. The pain intensified slightly as whatever had a hold on her began to squeeze tighter. On instinct, Perry tensed her muscles. Scarcely a moment later, she found herself tossed against the doors she’d entered the train through. She landed in a defensive crouch, eyes focused intensely on the placed she’d just been standing.

“Ouch,” she muttered, covering up how unnerved she was with her usual bravado. Not unexpectedly, she didn’t see anything in that area, earning an irritated snarl from the girl. A strange prickling started behind her eyes, and as she blinked to clear it, the entire situation looked suddenly different. She could now see not only what had attacked her (though she wasn’t sure if she was okay with that) but Persephone could also note colored auras around her companions. Regular passengers had dimmer auras, whereas those who had boarded the train with the intent to confront whatever it was that was haunting the tracks had much brighter and larger energies around them. She decided she could ponder this later; for now, there were a lot of arms flying around here and an almost equal amount of fire. Ordinarily, Persephone would have questioned the wisdom in burning the floor of the train, but her mind was more preoccupied with what the mysterious man had said prior to his blood and fire trick.

I can’t injure it. Not with just this. Regardless, she pulled her switchblade out of her pocket and swung it open. She watched the flurry of arms for a moment, and noticed something interesting; before one moved, a shadow of its form flickered to its destination. She could see the path of energy before it was taken, just as she could see a physical opponent’s actions before they moved. An intuition in the back of her mind suggested the two abilities were not so different in their source. A shadow flickered near her and she swiped at it just as the arm itself followed the shadow’s path. Her knife sliced through air, as had been predicted. Perry wasn’t too concerned with that, however, as it could be that she could unnerve this being with her new and uncanny ability to foresee it’s movements. A flare of energy caught her attention and she turned her eyes to the being that was currently being summoned. Something told her she wouldn’t even need this second sight of hers to see the energy coming from this being. As it was, she had to squint against the brightness.

Don’t look away from it. Easier said than done when it’s burning my retinas.

The energy became more contained as the being became fully physical, and Perry locked her eyes on it a second time.

Don’t show it fear. Okay, I can do that, I’m just really glad it’s on our side, ‘cause that’s A LOT of teeth.

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PostPosted: Fri Nov 07, 2014 8:03 pm 
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It all began with the HISS from Belle for Deus,

"DANGER!"

The enigmatic feline never hissed, this experience was a first to Deus, like the call of arms from Alexander the Great, Deus' spirit lifted and he felt himself empathize her anger. As Belle peered from of the woman's bag, bared her teeth and her malice audibly, even though she was a further two cars away from himself, the resounding echo of the cats intention could be heard like the resounding boom of atomic weapon, clear as day in the ears of Deus. The malignant power of the intent was so strong that Deus gripped the hollow aluminium pole which comprised the arm rest of his seat too hard, leaving a clear imprint of his digits and mangling the steel beyond repair in moments before he stood up to look through the windows down the hallways of the train. Something was happening down there, as something peered into existence, Deus watched as a girl was grabbed, blood was spilled, and the man who had spoken out earlier among them, was channeling power from some far off place, the power of which hit Deus like a powerful scent. Whatever was happening, the smell of magic in the air like the spice at an Indian market foretold something bad if it was out in the open, and Deus knew he needed to be there to help not only Belle, but the people who she was there with.

The time for subtlety was over, Deus picked up to a run as he reached the first of the doors between the cars, as this was a passenger train, he turned the handle which would be opened by the ticket taker, turning it, the doors flung open as Deus picked up speed through the next cart, his briefcase in his hand as he began to mutter the words of a ritual under his breath, calling upon his patron and all of his power to aid him in the coming struggles in the ancient tongue of the earliest and most noble of Egyptian sorcerers. Breaking into a sprint as he approached the door to the car they each and all were in, Deus grabbed the handle, and rather than twisting as he pulled, placing his palm on the door at his side to support his strength, with a single collossal heave, the latch of the door of the train was torn through the sheet metal catch, the hinges of the door twisted as the rivets were pulled through the steel and the metal, although hollow padded door was torn from its hinges with a single violent pull and thrown meters behind Deus as he stepped through, gritting his teeth and observing everything that was going on around them.

At this point, it seemed some form of dragonic barghest was summoned to combat the creature by the bizzare man, Belle had leaped from the bag of the women and retreated to behind Deus, behind everyone else in the car, rowling and hissing with her fur up on end, the Mau seemed to be actively defending herself, though she had little magic to command offensively other than her spoken commands, which only worked against the dead, rather than spirits of death themselves, but by now, the spell which Deus had spoken in his native tongue was complete, but it was not without some cost.

"By the power of Imhotep, breaker of the darkest curse, god of all that is progress, he who walked the earth after death reconstituted and whom crafted the pyramid of Djoser. As you created columns to support the structures of man, I ask of you to support myself as I craft your magic into a tool of power of my own design!"

The magic which coiled from his tongue robbed himself of some of the magic of his living body, killing his skin for a moment like a blast of a necrotic wind which quickly faded as he reconstituted. The case which was gripped tightly by the ancient undead seemed to break apart, the copper and magnets and silicon combining, as tubes were formed, coiling around his arm like ancient snakes as they weaved between each other to form a magically powered energy weapon the likes of the late Nickoli Tesla would have been proud to behold. His mode of thinking to create a weapon which bore a coil capable of converting his own magical energy into augmented electrical power to become more of a plasma than raw lightning. The arcane technology was not particularly mechanically feasible in the natural world, rather bordering of the impossible, the grip of the case became the handle of the handgun sized firearm as the light titanium and insulation material over the next couple of moments covered the weapon's exposed organs, creating plating, insulation, ventilation and more. Once the weapon was completed, the remainder of the materials which were lay in the now handle-less case, were left on the ground as the technomancer raised his weapon to the opponent of all of them, commanding the civilians around him to fall back into the car which he had ripped the door off for their own safety before aiming at one of the beasts arms.

And firing.

The bolt of power which flew through the air cost Deus some of his own magical power, eating at his own mystical essence, revealing some of his true self for but a moment, his skin around his hand and the arm of which he was firing from turning dead and bracken before flickering back to life again like the a superhuman healing factor. The bolt hummed as it cascaded through the fragile air, crackling with power as it aimed for the darkness on the upper right hand side of the pool, straight for one of the beasts visible arms. Whether it would land or not was another issue all together, Deus had not heard of the warning about the girl behind the beast, and should the bolt pass through its angle would be one which would miss, but, it would hit the side of the train, the energy would disperse and the dispersion-like explosion would be enough to knock the girl violently, or even burn her mildly on some of her body from that distance, however, with the magic surging through the bolt, as well as the natural energy, 'hopefully' Deus thought, 'It will collide.'.

The Psychopomp was something of death itself, Deus found it very unlikely that one could kill a being of death, but what the hell was it doing here? Were the people here already dead? Or simply to be harvested? Deus could not help but feel like if the essence of death was prevalent around this area, he would have been the first to notice it, due to his own personal connection with the force which follows all life like a shadow... Should the first of Deus' shots connect with the powerful spectral creature as if it were a tangible substance, Deus would grow in confidence, and proceed to fire three more bolts as he would advance up the train.

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PostPosted: Fri Nov 07, 2014 9:36 pm 
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The porcelain and perfect expression of Andrea's face had not changed despite being in full awareness of the presence creeping upon the train, and what exactly the being was in its entirety. She had seen them on a near daily basis, collecting the dead away in their dark and monstrous form while they bounced throughout the shadows, nooks and crannies of the spiritual world. Such was a typical appearance of beings as dark and fate-carrying as these that woman had at first paid no heed to it; That was, until it started to materialize and take hold of the young girl a ways back.

A slow and pinpointed turn was made by the pale and presence-less woman, her plain brown eyes stopping on the Psychopomp as she observed it rip into the child's flesh and then proceed to throw her away and into the door of the train. This was replied to by Andrea slowly rising up from her seat and moving on over, the speed and rocking of the car having almost no affect on her peculiar posture or balance.

As her steps brought her nearer she immediately turned to observe Kristoff's announcement and spell, the flames bursting through and kissing at her jacket from how close she was now to his shape. The creature she brought forth - The lizard-like being with the single eye and gaping teeth - did not bring the reaction that he had warned against for his new party of comrades, but rather made her expression swell with some form of awe and admiration. She gazed down upon it in a dreamy-like daze, like a mother admiring a close friends newborn child before a soft and smooth voice spoke out to its owner.

"Do try not to kill the creature with your friend here. Perhaps scaring it off would be less of a waste of efforts and existence."

Andrea said before her attention was brought upwards and over to the Egyptian, also taking note of his own magical forgings of a weapon made of hardened light, gas, and pure arcane energies. It was advanced and complicated for sure, nothing that she was versed in or in understanding of, but when she saw his intent to fire off and towards the Pyschopomp, she decided an assist was best put in place.

Lifting her hand, she brought herself out from the folds of magics that concealed any of her nature, just enough to allow herself to extend and grip about the beast that seemed to be plaguing their train cart. She was no being of vast, incomprehensible powers, but she did have a duty and abilities that made such a job more than feasible; Restricting a creature of similar properties to her own was in her array of specializations. Her shadow seemed to twitch and convulse before it spread long towards the beast, losing a humanoid shape in exchange for something scratchy and fringed along the edges, devoid of detail. Any whom could sense the supernatural freely may have been able to feel the sudden alert of natural and primal magics as well as be guess that Andrea's shadow was perhaps a more accurate representation of herself than her womanly appearance.

The shape almost crawled along the ground and about the deathly entity, finally rising upwards in the form of a few iridescent, dark, and shimmering tendrils that seemed to posses inner star-like glimmers of light. They writhed and converged about, aimed to entangle and root their target's form - be it halfway still in the outer world or not - to the ground. She hoped to ensure that Deus would not be able to miss with his piercing bolt, and that Kristoff's familiar would have a chance to give a powerful bite before she released her grip, expecting the Psychopomp would then flee for its own survival.

Andrea had high hopes that they would not expect more of her, for her concerns were far above a death-harvesting angry spirit attacking them on a train car. There were more important things to save her stamina for, and she did not fancy waste.

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The cleric Dan Wheeler watched in horror as the incorporeal being manifested itself behind the young woman, tearing at her flesh before casually throwing her at far wall of the train compartment. His natural reaction was to panic, to scrabble away, to run as far away as he could in the limited space available to him... maybe if he had had time to prepare mentally for a demonic assault he would have rallied and acquitted himself more dutifully, but in a world where at a moment's notice one could be eviscerated by unseen foes called forth from some spectral abyss, he was simply not capable of cold calculated actions like those of the trained combatants around him.

Luckily however, his natural reaction did not matter, for he was draped in the mantle of the Holy Spirit, and whereas hours ago before his sacrificial offering he would have soiled himself at the sight of the creature before them, now he felt the calm assurance that unerring righteousness bestowed upon him. He was no trained soldier, no, but a Holy Crusader nonetheless and his spirit would not be allowed to buckle. Even as the girl tumbled to the floor after striking the wall, Wheeler was already in action, retrieving the small golden crucifix he wore on a necklace beneath his shirt. With an utterance of faith the cleric imbued the crucifix with the power of the Holy Spirit, and it transformed in his hands to become a longsword, of brilliant white metal that glowed as though still in the heart of the forge, seemingly leaving an afterimage where it whispered through the air.

"I don't know the extent of the powers granted to you preacher but it might be a good idea to start using whatever you have."

Wheeler nodded silently, but knew better than to blindly rush in. Armed with holy relics or not he was still just a man, and a few community center night sessions with some medieval aficionados did not a longswordsman make. Besides, it seemed like the man taking charge had more need for the small aisle space as he began to summon some goetic demon of his own. Wheeler could see that the summoning would take precious seconds during which the Psychopomp might attack again, but with calm adroitness the young woman beside him conjured some gloaming restrictive tendrils from her own shadow which made to ensnare the creature, preventing it from attacking or fleeing. Meanwhile the Egyptian dashed into the compartment with an incredible burst of strength, quickly assembling an exotic weapon from the disassembling briefcase he'd carried. With the Psychopomp immobilized, about to be fired upon and then attacked by the goetic demon summoned forth by Kristoff, Wheeler saw that his most helpful action would not be to attack the creature as well but rather attempt to heal the injured girl.

Leveling the point of his cruciform sword at the girl who'd been lashed by the demon's bladelike tendrils before being thrown against the wall, Wheeler muttered "Recuperabit puncta ictus," while making the sign of the cross with his other hand. If the girl were receptive to his efforts she would feel the inflicted wounds tighten and close, knitting back up like a time-lapse video in a documentary. She would still feel the pain of the initial injuries, unfortunately that would not go away until her body actually recovered, but at least she would no longer be bleeding or in danger of further injury while moving. Of course, with so many combative magical energies and auras clashing throughout the small train car it was entirely possible the healing energies would be completely lost into the ether, like a weak signal failing to cut through static white noise.


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PostPosted: Sun Nov 09, 2014 8:56 pm 

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The heavy bass that had blared through Jamie's headphones subtly quieted, the volume dulling and replace itself with a loud ringing in his ears prompting the librarian to look down to his phone, pressing the volume button repeatedly in attempts to turn it up and getting a Max Volume notice in return. With a resigned tsk, he turned off the screen and pulled out his headphones, curling them around his phone and shoving it back into his coat pocket. When he looked up it was to stare out the window, though with the glare from the light the most he could see was the reflection of the other passengers. He tried to ignore them, choosing instead to focus on the tunnel outside though a flicker of movement caught his peripheral vision. It was near the young girl that had sat a few benches down from him at the station, though she didn't appear to have moved in the slightest as she was still and steady against the hand rail. A slight movement again, quite close to her this time and Jamie found himself leaning closer to the window and focusing his eyes to get a better look. A third flicker of motion and Jamie's eyes widened, his head snapping around furiously to behold the creature that he wanted to believe he hadn't seen in the window's reflection.

Jamie's vision was assaulted by a flurried mix of motions and shadows and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the rapid movement, his vision focusing just as the creature wrapped itself around the young girl it was nearest to, blades tearing at the fabric of her clothes and slicing her skin. The ringing in his ears grew louder almost to a deafening degree, and Jamie found himself twisting around with his heels digging into the seat to scrabble backwards against the wall of the train. His heart raced dangerously and his hands clapped over his ears to try and shut out the noise to no avail. He saw a bright light and felt the heat of flame from further down in the car, but his eyes couldn't be moved from whatever the hell kind of creature this was. Even through the barrier of his palms, he still clearly heard the noise made when this.. this thing slammed the girl into the door. He also heard the man from the station start to speak, and Jamie dropped his hands from his ears to hear him. Suddenly he had a newfound interest in whatever he had to say.

"What I am about to summon is going to be able to strike at the beings astral essence. However if you don't listen to anything else I say listen to this - it is NOT something that can be shown weakness. Do not avert your gaze from it and do not show fear. The beast coming through can tolerate weakness for it is the weak that it is coming to defend but cowardice it despises utterly."

Jamie wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about, wanted to ask what this thing was, but he found himself unable. Instead he swallowed hard and nodded, one hand clapped over his mouth to try and steady his breathing and the other over his heart to feel it beating against his chest. Just as the flames at the floor of the cart - which reminded him so much of a portal to hell - seemed to breach and begin to produce something, the woman that had offered her hand in camaraderie to the man at the station walked up. She seemed calm, completely unfazed by the situation unfolding. Further down the car, Jamie was keenly aware of the wound of metal scraping and falling, but he couldn't take his flickering sight from between the flames and the woman. She talked about scaring it off, about how anything else would be a waste of time. Either the woman had bigger priorities or she was touched in the head, Jamie wasn't sure which. He was simply grateful for the calm demeanor. Not from only her, but from the man from the station and from the priest that had joined them right as the train was boarding. They were all so calm, so in control of the situation, and Jamie had to let himself be put at ease from that fact.

Slowly regaining control of his breathing, Jamie chanced his vision crossing the train in the direction of where he'd heard the noises of metal hitting the ground. Where a door had once been now stood the man clad in exquisite Egyptian fashion. All that remained that Jamie could see were the hinges, which were now nothing more than twisted metal in the threshold. The door had been ripped off entirely by the same man that was now uttering words in a language that was unfamiliar to Jamie.

Green eyes darted back to the two hellish creatures in the train. The one that had tormented the rebellious-looking girl seemed stunned, completely immobilized and trapped in a shadowy coin wrapped around its body. Without completely averting his gaze, Jamie risked a glance toward the injured woman. She was half-crouched, half-slumped against the car door with her wounds bleeding quite badly. The priest was near her, speaking words that the librarian did not recognize, but he certainly felt a sort of calming energy from them. He returned his gaze back to scene unfolding with a new sense of what Jamie could only describe as resolution.

There were three things that Jamie was sure had to happen now. One, Deus had to make this shot. Two, the summoned familiar had to use it's array of teeth for a powerful bite. And three, they had to be alright. All of them.

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PostPosted: Wed Nov 19, 2014 6:22 am 
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Sensations

Cheap deodorant, alcoholic breath. The last few tendrils of rusty iron and week old cigarette smoke lingered odiously in the stale tasting air. Burning perilous through sweat and stains; Filling the tainted lungs of ignorant and almost innocent. Mingling. Mixing and coiling about the sounds of star blinded lovers and sewer mouthed kids. Rebellious adolescents poking amusement at the bickering and bothered businessmen peppered about the carriage. Those poor properly dressed people, politely pushing in to each other, shoving, nudging, squeezing awkwardly in to get the seats closest to the only available exits.
As Leonora Maietta stared listlessly at the racing darkness just beyond the flimsy glass window, feeling the shuddering sways and sudden tilts that would rock her from a brighter day dream, the young woman couldn't help but wonder. How did she ever think that stumbling in to a rickety tinder box filled with self important strangers and soulless day workers; was a better idea than spending twice as much and catch a cab? What fragile excuse had she thought up to stop herself from following the stampeding footsteps of the massing crowd up those steps and back on to the impatient streets above. The female couldn't help but wonder: at what point did it become a better decision to sit here and inhale the scents and sounds of a toxic subway train line instead of braving the bitterly cold outside world for a few more mind numbing hours? Well....? The answer was simple. Painfully simple. Why did she get on this god damn train? The very same reason she had accepted the job and gone out in the first place.

Stupid. It's because you never.....

A sudden groaning lurch silenced the thought as the train made heaved it's way around another corner and deeper in to the darkness.
It was strange really: The ride home was never what she had hoped it would be. Constantly shifting position on the stained thread bare seats, staring through the dark frosted window. Trying to tune out the habits of the crowd around her. She always looked forward to the off key tone and generic recording that would inform the passengers that she was only a three block walk to her apartment building. But this time.... this time there was something... off about this train ride. Something that had her sitting on edge, hand subconsciously tightening around the shoulder strap of her bag. Her instincts were telling her to be ready. And for once, Leonora was listening.


Reaction

At first.... all she heard was sound. Just a low muffled growl coming from the simple college back pack. A higher pitched hiss and a distressed meow. Soft little warning noises creeping it's way in to her highly attentive ears. It would only take a few fleeting moments for the uncertain pattern to continue and push the over imaginative mind to start changing those nonsensical syllables in to pronounced letters. But the word it formed crystal clear in her head was not what caused her stomach to churn in to twisted knots. It was what Leo saw when she finally... finally looked up from the anxious feline by her feet. The abomination just starting to creep through the dim lights, barely three metres from where she sat.
This creature. The monstrosity. It was a hideous creation. With it's shadowed ghostly arms wrapping it's needle boned fingers around her fragile limbs. Clawing. Pulling. Dragging the extremities through her flesh to draw mercury like beads along drawn lines. Twelve months she had served at war, twice as long she had lived on the streets. Nothing. Nothing terrified and angered the female more than the grotesque entity which she was looking at now. Whatever it was that had stepped on to her train. It had made a big mistake. The creature was a magnet and Leonora Maietta was an exposed wire, flickering with enough sparks to light up this tunnel like the fifth of November.

And the feelings never stopped.

"...Soldier...."

The honey golden eyes, flaring with fury followed the man's wiser gaze to her hand... or rather the item she now carried.
Focus narrowed to a bloody beating pin prick. Erratic breathing, as frozen as the moment they were in. The ex-snipers muscles had coiled so tight... she had become so frighteningly tense the female had barely felt her fingers reach past the escaping furry critter and wrap about the hilt of the Beretta within. Gripping it so hard and so strongly that her knuckles were not all that had turned pale. By the time that second stranger had uttered that once upon a name, breaking her from that reverie, Leo was aiming the gun steady, no safety on, ready with her finger on the trigger. Prepared to shoot the thing where it's chest may have been. No matter who was in her way at the time. Oh yes. Despite the agonizing throbbing in her chest, how every cell in her body trembled at the bloody stench of it; despite the bile that rose up in her throat to meet with the oxygen caught there, this woman was determined not to let this monster escape again. Not after all it had done to her. To her family. To her life. Even if it meant she had to go through every single stranger that was stupid enough to get on to this damned train. She would...

Wait. Stop.


Realization

It wasn't his caution against shooting the creature that had caused the pause in her instinct fueled reaction. Nor was it the bone shuddering scream of metal being torn from it's strong hold as the egyptian styled gentleman came in to the area. The shadows that seem to be moving under the command of the passive female nearby. The priest jumping to his feet and the other male keeping safely on his guard. No, it was something more subtle. Gentle. Quiet. It was the very same persuasively sweet voice that urged her before to stay out of the mess. But this time... this time it was whispering a different idea. Telling her to look again. To look harder. Look. Think. See it for what it was. And what it was.... was wrong. Very. Wrong.
That's right. It was too light for that thing, too heavily populated. Her monster was a perfect hunter. A flawless predator with the instincts of an animal and the blood lust of a well seasoned psychopath. It's arms alone could tear apart the strongest bond of all. It wouldn't risk coming to a tightly built room so cramped and crowded. It wouldn't show it self to so many threats in the one glimpsing moment. This beast was not hers.
And that meant the game had changed and so had her part in it. Now it was her turn to play. Time was already wasting away.

Carefully. Quickly. Without drawing too much attention, Leo got up from her seat and started making her way across the train. Keeping her distance from both the creature and the other passengers. Then... just as the monster was about to throw the girl against the wall, Leo slipped in behind her, skidding in place just in time to catch her from behind. Taking the brunt of the impact and possibly preventing a dislocated shoulder and bruised bones. But she wasn't done. No sooner had the impact come and gone, Leo's free hand wrapped around the girl's arm and pulled her behind, around and towards the only other person who wasn't making any attempt at this situation. The lone male sitting towards the back who appeared to be trying to maintain some form of composure despite the chaos that unfurled around them. For the time being, he was succeeding... but for how long? That was a problem for later.
Provided the teen didn't put up much resistance, Leo firmly guided her to sit beside the male and put herself in between the monster and the two more normal civilians. Looking over them with narrow eyed scrutiny.
It had not occurred to the ex soldier before, but looking at them now; their hesitation, lack of a suitable weapon, the smell of fear on their skin. There was a reason why the monster went after this girl in particular. A reason so blindingly obvious that Leonora had missed it. The aggressor; it was no crazed pack of hyena, ganging up on the biggest game it would dare. It was going for the weakest first. The most naive and defenseless of all of them.
If something happened to the young teenager, then he would be next. And after that... well... she wasn't going to find out.


Retaliation

"Listen to me carefully. That creature focused on you, because it sees you as the weakest" Leo had started to say to the female who was now being miraculously healed by the unusual priest. "Other than that little pen knife of yours, do you have anything else to defend yourself with? And how about you? Do you have anything? Anything at all?"
While waiting for an answer, she glanced back to the others, seeing how they were faring against the unwanted intruder. At this point; they looked like they were doing alright. The egyptian had made a weapon she had never seen before, the outspoken male had brought forth something entirely different. And from what she could see the unusually calm female had caught the creature in what appeared to be her own shadow. They would be fine... for now.
"Whatever. If either of you know how to handle a gun, then you can borrow this" Leo continued, holding out the handgun to who ever was willing to take it. "But let me warn you now. If you use it, you better make sure you hit the right thing. If you don't... then make sure you stay out of my way. I don't help those that don't help themselves. Oh, and if you even think about doing something stupid and reckless because of some pathetic hero complex. Then I will mark you as a liability and you will be on your own. Am I clear?"


With those words left hanging a heavy echo in the air, Leo stepped back away from them and reached in to her bag once more.
But this time what she pulled out, was something completely unexpected. At first, it looked like another small case. An average styled bag which could maybe carry a smaller sized instrument within it's foam layered interior. But the instrument in this case however, wasn't used to make memorable tunes.
Within a second of clipping open the latches, Leo had taken out the pieces of the sniper rifle and latched them together, before slinging the entire contraption over her shoulder and across her knee. Ready. Waiting. Precisely aimed with no needed scope. With the selection of bullets clipped to her belt, cigarette resting alight between her lips, Leonora Maietta watched the scene play out with careful attention. If the rich man's weapon didn't kill it. If the other entity didn't tear the thing to shreds. If the girl's shadow had not scared it off, then Leo would have her turn.

And this Lioness always got her prey.

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PostPosted: Sun Nov 23, 2014 5:04 am 
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Somewhere in the realm of the living, the wind whistled. Twelve-Twenty rolled over on a platform's clock somewhere in London and from a tunnel to the left, a train emerged at its final stop. Eight cars in total, one less than it had left its last stop with but at this time of night no one would notice. The conductor sighed deeply at a night finished, glad that he had the weekend off before he would be back on duty again the following Monday afternoon. He took the hat from his brow and shut off the monolith before drowsily lumbering off the train and onto the platform, he just had to lock up the station up top now and go home to sleep. All this business with that missing train car had put quite a bee in the bonnet of his company and they were watching their employees like a hawk today.

Out of lingering speculation, as he ascended the stairs to the streets above he took a glance back down into the dimly lit underground and, for a moment, wondered what his life would have been like if he'd been a Baker like his father.

-----

There was, despite the quickness and surprise of the Psychopomp, there was one who managed to react immediately. One of the humans in the car moved to intercept the young thing that it had thrown against the wall and proceeded to drag her from its clutches. The apparition reeled around, the shadows coalescing and then blooming from the center of its form as it twisted in place a moment before its attention was split on a veritable exhibition of magical essence cutting into reality all at once. First it was the river of fire spilling onto the ground and the toothy thing that rose from it, all teeth and armour. The stalking little thing emanating from the fire was gnashing its jaws together and wandering forward but for the moment it didn't seem to be doing much of anything. The Psychopomp was confused as, following the creature's appearance, several things happened at once. It felt constricted all at once as though something was suffocating its form from all around and another presence entered the insignificant domain it had made for itself in this place. Light cut through the treacle and flung towards it, unceremoniously colliding with its own presence and, though it could not feel pain, it found itself torn into by this energy, parts of it ripped away into the Aether and lost forever. The thing faltered and spun backwards as the shadowy grip released it. It didn't matter now, its work was done and there would be no coming back from where the patrons on the eleven fifty five would find themselves in a matter of moments.

Beneath the train car now, there was nothing. Almost at once, the whole carriage began to tilt violently before lurching into a spin. The car turned once, twice, three and four times, accelerating with each turn and the sensation of falling would be obvious. Glimpses of the distance outside the windows would yield views of rushing white dots, like being discharged through space. After mere seconds of this free fall, everything would come to a sudden stop. Time slowed as the car hit surface on an angle almost upside down and then rolled forward coming to rest on its roof, now completely overturned.

The crash, while unpleasant, seemed to be cushioned by something like a lighter gravity and would likely result in little more than bruises and scrapes for those aboard the train, though they would probably find themselves rattled and disoriented, thrown from their positions into various states of disarray around the interior. Silence overtook the scene for close to a minute. The eerie peace may be a clue to some, unsettling to others, but was short lived in its stillness.

Pale digits tore into the side of the metal colossus and as quickly as any respite had come, it was taken away. The things that sliced the steel were larger than the claws of the spectre that had made itself known on the journey to this place, nearly three feet in length each, and twelve in total. With one authoritative heave, the side of the car was fragmented and wrenched from the rest of the structure, opening up the wall to the air and darkness. Out in the realm they found themselves inhabiting, there was much to see but precious little time to do much of anything.

Moonlight was absent from the place outside the car, though it was decidedly some sort of night time. A long shore swept outwards laden with irregular white pebbles and stones which sunk into a murky sea that stretched out beyond any horizon that could possibly be out there in the Dark. Standing, or rather, existing, outside the window of the absent wall, was a hulking shape unlike any of the passengers would have likely seen before. A vaguely humanoid shape was protruding from the coast, close to twelve feet high and surrounded by the same long white fingers that had wrought the train car asunder. The thing had no head to speak of but a tall white pillar, at the base of which, a chain of various carvings was tied around resembling something of a noose. The thing was completely white save for a black circle on the right side of the pillar-like head.

Someone's ears would surely pick up the subtle, rhythmic whispering that sounded a little like singing and came in waves as the black water broke against the shoreline, it was an unsettling hymn in a language only the oldest of the dead could even think to remember.

Thinking of her fragility and positioning, Belle darted from the car onto the beach and to the right, vanishing behind the walls of the train car and leaving the passengers behind. She hoped this would be cue enough to rouse the others into leaving what would surely become a coffin in the next few moments as the being before them tensed and readied itself.

Of course, there were plenty of things to worry about other than leaving the train car, but Belle hoped that everyone would be smart enough to think about that after. There was something else about the thing that would make itself very apparent to each of the passengers individually, one by one, a single thought would unite them in some plane of consciousness or unconsciousness...

'Me... It's after Me...'

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PostPosted: Mon Nov 24, 2014 12:21 am 
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Events seemed to speed up into a crescendo of motion and displacement. Kristoff felt his boots leave the metal of the train carriage floor and he was hurtling through the air before slamming into one of the highly uncomfortable rows of seats designed for unlucky passengers that would or could not pay for classier modes of transport.

The servitor seemed to have no such trouble with the tumult simply leaping to the passenger luggage rails and using its impressively large claws to anchor itself in place till the locomotive's car had stabilized. By the time the pallid digits of the Psychopomp had torn the carriage wall asunder the beast was bounding almost in time with Belle for the space once occupied by the door which had been ripped from it's socket by the Egyptian. It's body had the grace of a panther with sleek musculature easily visible working under it's coat of scales. Given the gulf in sizes between the two beasts flight would seem a intelligent option for the barghest as the psychopomps sheer mass was enough to dwarf the smaller creature.

This was not to be the case however for as soon as the draconic hound had achieved egress from what was to quickly become a metal sarcophagus it wheeled around picking up even more speed on the shore of the great ocean and launched itself at full speed at what could be considered the creatures flank. Whatever passed for nature in its home had given it myriad weapons and it was attempting to use them all with unwavering ferocity.

Kristoff pushing himself to his knees had enough presence of mind to be thankful for the distraction - if not for himself then at least the girl who had been mauled by the malign specter.

Then the sending pieced the veil of Kristoffs thoughts. Rushing through the corridors of his mind like a thing possessed it attempted to burrow deep into his being. A carrion call that marked him as the hunted....

Odium.

A rage so terrible that it seared all thoughts from the mind of the vessel that was referred to by his fellow man as Kristoff. Under a blood red sky their axes glistening with blood and draped with entrails Viking warriors had felt a fraction of this as toxic mushrooms eroded both their inhibitions and humanity driving them into berserk fury. This transcended such mortal trivialities echoing the ecstatic states felt by shaman and monks as the breached they will of the divine.

The membranous flesh at each edge of Kristoff's mouth began to separate letting thin rivulets of blood and mucus pour between. Inside were teeth not so unlike that of the barghest . Skin bubbled and gave off an acrid stink as twin nubs of sharp bone formed from the shifting mass of skull. Bones cracked and expanded within a chest pumping tectonically with the heat of the deep kiln.

Inside Kristoff's mind a litany of destruction played.

Kill,slash,main,burn,rend,throttle,hack,tear,mutilate,gouge,impale,skewer,lacerate,flense,annihilate.

But this was only a human facsimile of the alien minds thought currents and thus imperfect in capturing the true potency of the desire. Kristoff threw back a head that no longer resembled that of ape - great or otherwise and let loose a roar that echoed off into forever.

The priest should his prowess as a thurmaturge prove sufficient would feel echoes of Saint George's mythic battle as well as even older memories of ancient Babylon and titanic creatures that their gods drew life and power from. The Egyptian mage on the other hand would likey draw parallels with Sobek and beasts under his command.

What the rest of the rest of the band made of a such a shift was anyone's guess.


Last edited by Summerian on Tue Dec 09, 2014 5:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Tue Dec 02, 2014 6:56 pm 
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Persephone clenched her jaw slightly as the priest healed her. With all the extra energy flowing around, most of his cast was lost, but Perry’s wounds sealed up most of the way. She’d be fine. Bright aquamarine eyes turned to the woman who had cushioned her fall, “I’m decent enough with a knife,” she answered, “Let the gun go to someone who needs it more... Thanks for that, by the way,” she added, nodding to the woman’s shoulder.

It went after me because it thinks I’m weak? Well, that’s not nice.

She frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the train car was... Rolling. In the midst of the additional chaos, Perry’s vision blurred and failed.

“This is precisely why I told you to stay home!”
Persephone groaned, of course her conscience would sound like Gran.
“Now you’ve been spirited off to who knows where, and you’ve got no way to defend yourself other than your little knife and your own stubbornness... You’re just like your grandfather.”

Okay. Maybe this wasn’t her conscience.

“Ha! Grandchild of mine, I didn’t think you had one of those anymore. If you do, you certainly don’t often listen to it. Now pay attention: your eyes are your greatest gift. All things have an aura, and your eyes have the power to see them. Keep your eyes open and your head level and you should come out just fine. But remember that stubbornness is not strength. Nor is denial. You need to accept the fact that you’re frightened, and you must accept the fact that you’re in an unnatural situation. And you must stay with these companions-- I won’t be able to reach you where you’re going.”


Persephone’s eyes snapped open just as the car settled to a stop. Disgruntled in more ways than one, she noted the cat and the summoned being bold for the door. The summon seemed to be moving to attack the newest problem, and the cat... The cat had her own reasons. Rubbing her head, she stood on shaky legs and nodded after the feline, “If the cat’s getting out of here, so am I.”

She shook her head, attempting to clear her head of the strange rushing sound that had taken up residence in her ears, but to no avail. She shot a suspicious, quizzical look toward the pale creature before darting out of the train car. She’d deal with the head voices later; right now she was spurred on by an urgent intuition to get out of that car. The sensation of being hunted pricked the back of her mind again and she let out an agitated sigh. This was going to be a long night. An inhuman sound ripped from the train car.
What. The actual--?
Persephone peered in through the windows, wondering what the hell just made that sound. The answer had a string of low curses tumbling from her mouth: the man who had summoned the creature of flame had... Changed. Perry felt an eyebrow creep up her forehead as a chill went down her spine. Keeping a level head just got a lot harder.

“Oh, come on...”

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PostPosted: Mon Dec 08, 2014 6:33 pm 
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Deus notices the shots from his weapon had done next to nothing, but, it was in the final moments when the world began to spin. His feet lifted from the ground as he spiraled around like a shoe in a tumble drier, attempting to grab desperately to anything he could manage, alas, his reactions were far too slow to be able to do anything in this one instance. It was not long when they came to a stop, looking back on the events that occurred it seemed that the woman which Belle had taken a liking to was a little more than apt than he had expected, she moved with an unrivaled finesse and agility, managing to get behind the monster and assure the safety of the little one which had been trapped between them and the monster. He remembered the summon which had been cast as he would soon assume the minion of Sobek would leap into action, hopefully reigned under the control of the sorcerer. Healing powers lofted through the air to aid the childs' wounds, which put the mind of Deus at ease, as he felt that he had a duty to protect those far less able to defend themselves. Though, what truly sparked his attention was the nature of the woman which coiled around the psychopomp... Her power seemed to be strong, not as strong as the creature, but strong none the less, not something he had ever seen in a long, long time. Perhaps they had a chance here, between their individual talents, were they to work together, they would be able to get through this mess more or less alive.

Deus once the car stopped, burst into action, muttering a soft series of syllables in sanskrit, power fflowed from his voice to the doors of the train cart as well as the mechanical exits. Each of them opened in turn, curling and shaping where needed to open properly or simply detatch from their holds to fall open upon the ground... Once they were open, Deus made a mad dash for the exit of the claustrophobic cart, moving into the much more open area around them. feeling the strange sensation of a new world underfoot as he looked up at the moon-less night sky, realizing that it seemed that in this world, the living may well be the aliens here...

Power could be felt in the air once more, Belle it seemed had fled for safety, which in of itself seemed curious to Deus, but, at the same time, it perhaps meant that she was the true target of the beast... or, was it each and all of them...? The thought came through his mind like a subtle wave of doubt which forced Deus' muscles to clench and tighten, fear betwixt determination and the drive to survive the encounter warred in his mind, each side equal until the reinforcements of his protective nature beat down the fear under the sheer weight of his determined mind. Remembering that he was no mere man, but a sage of Imhotep, a reanimation of the will of a god, he was a power to be reckoned with, just as every member of the group assembled here seemed to be, drawn to a common cause, a common imbalance in the natural world order, as if nature was seeking a means to craft order, and it had assembled the circumstances necessary to do so.

Deus put faith in this thought...

Opening his eyes with a new found determination he realized that a member of their own group had undergone a transformation of his own, but while the one Deus had gone through had been internal, the now more draconic mans' metamorphosis seemed to have been very external in nature, having adopted the jaws and structure of a reptile more than a man. The sorcerer seemed to be chanelling a great power for a mortal man, but, without time for curiosity Deus ran to an open area to the flank of the monster, strafing and firing arcane bolts from his pistol, all the while his briefcase gripped tightly in his other hand. The bolts crackled as they soared through the air, a combination of the product of magic and machine working together in impossible harmony. The hue of the bolts in this world and the change of mindset of the user had changed the color of the bolts to a deep and authoritative purple which became gradually brighter and more energetic the closer to the center of the bolt until it was nothing but void-like white... Each bolt drained at the magical essence of Deus as he fired them, knowing that he did not have a limitless sum of ammunition without Belle being closer than she was.

But he had enough.

Keeping a steady stream of fire, he hoped to distract the beast with the bolts, each one of them would be painful, maybe even lethal to a human were he to be extremely lucky, though, realistically, they were closer to a concussive injuring force of heat and energy more than a lethal one. Which he hoped would distract the creature long enough for the others to escape its gaze and position themselves free of the car. He had no doubt that the trained woman and the priest had the level headed nature to ensure this action to come to pass... When each of them were free of the cart, Deus would cease his fire and begin to chant with the language of his people, thrusting his hand down to the earth as he attempted to ground his power, a small symbol appearing around himself, acting like an earth for an electrical current, fortifying the connection with his source. Deus praised and recited a deed of his god which applied to the challenge which he currently faced before asking for similar power.

"Oh great and mighty Imhotep, who was cast into the shadow to die a thousandfold deaths, cursed by the gods only to defy them and walk the earth once more as one of them. Please grant me thy resolve, grant me the strength of mind, body, and spirit to do your will and save those innocent which surround me and undo the darkness of death."

Deus, should his chant be completed, would look to his firearm and watch as the metal from it and the brief case in his hand would mold and shift once again to become something else. The titanium steel would warp to create plated steel for a long shaft, while the carbon would become fibrous and weave itself into nano tubes of incredible strength. The remaining materials and the briefcase would warp into a quiver and arrows as his arcane bow would be completed, each of the arrows engraved with the rite of his spell which had created them. Deus felt far more at home with a bow in his hands, a weapon made to support the front lines of combat, able to weave spells on each of the steel plated arrows to have various effects and abilities, and a bowstring tight enough and strong enough to be impossibly strong for a human man, but perfect for his own strength to draw back to its fullest... Deus would not aim yet, but instead survey, preparing to avoid whatever the creature had to throw at him, or perhaps even endure.

Belle in the mean time hid behind her protectors, looking and meowing fearfully toward Deus and Leo like a cat stuck up in a tree. Calling for them to kill the creature which pursued it, promising them whatever dead quarry it can attain for the rest of its life to the victor.

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PostPosted: Tue Dec 09, 2014 5:41 am 
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Andrea had recoiled her shadows a long time ago, now standing among the others in the haze of events that was chaos of the train car, and now the stranded situation of the pale stone beach.

It was a peculiar, overwhelming peace that rustled her insides upon breathing in the air of such a place, the quiet and bleak void a very homely place for the peculiar woman. Her greyish skin gave a lively shiver at the thought of it all, though her appearance was not without rips and tears due to the rolling ride she had experienced moments later.

The flipping and twisting of the train car had prompted a sort of self-defensive retreat during the blur, one that had resulted in the woman twisting her very magic in and around herself that she may hide in the embrace of her own substance. When the destructive torrent had finally ended, Andrea had peeled on open from her dark tendrils like a flower opening to blossom, her long jacket now possessing tears and her hair a free-flowing set of wavering waves. The release of such energies had distorted the very appearance she had been attempting to give off, her eyes having turned a starlight grey and her skin far more deathly and paler than it had been ever before.

She had considered giving up a form in its entirety, weighing the ease of travel without having to reconstruct herself into a familiar shape over and over again, but upon thinking of her party of peculiar but humanoid companions she had concluded differently, for their sake. Her attention had now been brought forward to the pillar-like being that was hulking ahead of them; The clear intentions of the beast easily being made by the way it readied itself against them and seemed to treat them like intruders to this realm.

Intruders, they definitely were, but the quiet and blissful woman was not ready to submit to a being that countered directly against her prime objectives and prerogatives. This being was strong, powerful, but most certainly an enemy.

Her glances then turned to the shifting and roaring being that now was the hunter beside her. Her head tilted for a moment, her lightened eyes looking him over with an expression that was her equivalent of curiosity before gazing off at the Egyptian and his weapons woven there and then with the assistance of magic. They were preparing themselves.

Her slow and robotic turn was made back to the white monstrosity ahead, and it was then that she concluded her powers would have little use with such a limiting shape and structure.

She would move to the side, seeming to about to twirl about on her toe as if she were a dancer on a stage, but her grace would be torn apart as soon as the motion began - Her skin blackening and ripping away away as her form changed into something swirling and black, the many tendrils of shadows that once was the tools she had used to constrict the Psychopomp now surrounding "her" new and more natural form.

Any whom had been in the darkest recesses of the woods would know the feeling well. It was something that varied between the aura of wonder that was the life of nature and the blooming, beautiful trees, and the feeling of heavy dread and fright - Of trespassing on territory that was as old and ancient as the dirt itself, with horrible and malicious spirits lurking about in every nook and cranny. Legends of these beings stealing children to raise, or stealing them to kill and consume, stories of precious sprites giving gifts to tired travelers, or horrible crags catching their souls as treasure to collect.

"Andrea" fell in the many infinite jurisdictions of these spirits of nature, though whatever kind of spirit this blackened mess precisely was most likely fell into the categories of watchful terrors, light-less nights and ever-hungry fiends. She had once too been human, or at least she remembered it in a dream. She needed an ability to hide among the others in the broad daylight, to sustain itself in a perfect link between the physical realm and the spiritual. She needed this so that she could complete her duty she had been assigned, to help protect the physical world from the encroaching and growing magic that was beginning to rise up in the most unlikely places, creating a tip in the scales and releasing beings that did not belong. Along with this, she remembered walking on a summer night, an average day for a young woman - Or had it been a human male? She could not remember precisely - whom had little else on her mind but high aspirations and a promising future; A future that would be changed when her two pasts became one in a clash of souls and shredding darkness.

With the fusion, she was no longer hindered by being unable to touch fully grasp out her being and twist it through the material plane. She was no longer weak to the borders of reality, passing through with the snippets of the mortal soul she had frozen in time and picked apart for all the best qualities she had needed. In return, the being she had fused with was made equal in mind and form, whatever gap that separated them dissolved until they truly were a mesh of color and thread that could not be untangled. She had touched infinity, all in return for giving a spirit the ability to truly move. It was a gift she had not asked for, but re-payed kindly.

Eventually the black shape was something roughly humanoid, covered in the many faded star-like details and hints of color that could very well resemble a nebula. Two white and bright specks stuck out from where its head and face could be guessed, not looking at anything in particular from another's perspective, but from it's own shape it was gazing at the white pillar that was ahead of it.

The spirit knew it had its place among the party. Some of them were physical, others were ranged, and it was most certainly somewhere in-between, but not one to take direct hits against the black shadowy mist that was its body. It would wait until the others began their attack, and use what it held best - Stealth, agility and its own form of damage. It would be careful and self-preserving, as it had always been in it's own long life, and it would ensure that no moves were made without carefully thinking them over and maintaining its peace among its brethren. When it was all over, it would twist about and return to a fleshy form it shared, perhaps greet them and inquire as to how exactly they were to continue. For now, it was time to fight and defend.

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