Author Topic: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm  (Read 33290 times)

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saltmummy626

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5040 on: September 03, 2018, 10:07:49 am »
For a creature that felt it should be in a hurry, Branches was certainly spending a great deal of it's time dawdling. In some way, the homunculus had inherited certain characteristics from it's two contributers. Curiosity was Illiana's contribution, and it was curiosity that held it up. Branches had spent the better part of the day catching bugs and frogs in the swamp. After, that was, it had managed to cross the bridge. With the migrants moving on, there was no longer a picket on what branches thought of as it's side of the lake. It could move freely on the east and north sides of the lake, but the south branches considered Helen's and the west side, Sharlene's. It had to move disguised, and did so by wrapping a stolen blanket around it's head. It turned out that the crossing hadn't been such of a much. Those left in charge of fishing nets were still there, but they had no time for Branches. They were all busy collecting the last run of salmon before fall, and expanding their small fishery to fit the demand. Still, it had spent a long time watching the fisher folk. The amount of strength and teamwork required to haul a net seemed monumental. When Branches tried it though, the homunculus managed it easily enough. It impressed the foreman so much that he offered Branches a job.

"Waddaya say little lady? Haul fish for a couple weeks and get paid in food and shelter?"

Branches declined the offer, saying that it had only wanted to try it out. Of course, the foreman had upped the offer but by then Branches was already walking away.

The fisher folk we're a mix of strange people, most of them being either rodent featured Prictowners or normal humans from the refugee center. Pulling up nets and releasing two of every three fish they took. It was here too that Branches found the source of the pleasant smoke that had wanted across the lake, hanging over the water in the mornings like a fog bank when it looked out at the dawn from it's improvised shelter. A series of smoke houses running twenty-four seven to cure the rich fatty salmon in aromatic Maple and alder. The smoke houses, Branches learned, were a venture of the Walkerville. An industry laid on with the Walker stamp of approval. It seemed, or so the working folk said among themselves, that Catnip had come back from Pricetown with a bit more than a caravan load of immigrants.

Branches didn't know who this "Catnip" was, but it supposed that it would find out someday so long as it didn't die before then. The next thing Branches came to as the homunculus followed the line of the palisade, skirting the clearly marked pit at it's base, was farm land. To the west of the farm, the woods around it opened up again on a vast field of farm land being plowed and prepared. Here was the true source of the smoke. Not the small time plumes of the smoke houses, but the roaring bonfires of large piles of duff and scrap wood. When a pile had cooled a little, the sizable pile of ash left behind would be spread and tilled into the soil as fertilizer for the coming year. This industry wouldn't see fruit until next summer or fall. From simple roots, plants would grow. Branches had a moment to wonder what the workers had used as fill for the swamp when it was called on by an aged voice. The homunculus turned it's head, and by the gateless entrance to Walkerville was an old man with a broad brimmed hat on his head and a gun on his hip.

"How you doin' pard?" He asked, "Judgin' by your clothes I reckon you ain't one of the workers. I'm Floyd, where're your parents, Missy?"

Floyd sat in a wicker arm chair much as he had sipping a beer and watching over Catnip in the throes of mutation, and rubbed ointment into his hands. The beer was replaced with an iced tea, containing real ice. Branches was stuck with the choice to simply keep walking, or to engage the friendly old man.

"Cat gotcher tongue?" He asked, leaning forward a little. Branches took a step back but Floyd held up a hand to calm it. "It's all right, I ain't gonna hurt you. How old are you?" Any answer Branches gave, any honest answer, would out the homunculus for what it was. Or so Branches thought right up until it failed to lie.

"Branches..." It mumbled, then slapped it's hands over it's mouth. Then realized it was showing off it's skin, and stuffed them into the pockets of the stolen jeans.

"Ah," Floyd said, leaning back again. "Branches huh? You're a mutant too then? Like Catnip and some of the others? Well, nothin' to be afraid of here. Plenty like you around. Why don't you sit a spell and watch the work, talk to an old man?" Floyd didn't know who or what Branches was, and that said a little about how communicative the farm was. Surely one of those who'd been present at Sharlene's grove might have recognized it, but Floyd hadn't been there. Floyd didn't know. Branches looked around, hoping to see an escape and instead saw a jeep coming up the road towards them. Inside, the homunculus spotted the familiar mask of a mage hunter. It could have been Helen, or it could have been the other. Either way there was nowhere to go but here, and so Branches took the wicker chair next to Floyd and hoped that the mage hunter wouldn't glance over and see it.

Floyd gave a little half wave to the jeep and for a slim moment, Branches believed the jig was up. The homunculus was as as strong as a titan with it's feet planted firmly on the ground, but that didn't mean a well placed bolt from a wraithslayer couldn't harm the creature. Or a hammer blow. Or a lightning bolt. Branches suddenly felt very vulnerable, wanting to squirm and run, to sneak away. No bolt came. Neither did a lightning bolt, and the mage hunter wasn't coming at Branches with a hammer. In fact, the mage hunter had missed Floyd's wave entirely.

"So," Floyd went on as he settled back to his rubbing, "You never told me where your parents were missy."

"At the center..." Branches said, giving it some thought before answering. Technically, it was true. Illiana was at the center still and in so far as the Homunculus had a parent, it was Illiana.

"Ah, should have guessed. I suppose you're with the migrants." Floyd talked about all sorts of things for the next hour or so, Branches curiosity overriding it's need to move on keeping the homunculus anchored to the seat. Floyd offered it a glass of iced tea, taking the jug beneath the small table out along with a plastic cup and a few ice cubes from a small cooler. Branches decided that it liked iced tea, and finished off it's cup while Floyd spoke.

"Why do you rub your hands like that?" Branches asked when Floyd had finally gone silent, "Do they hurt?"

The old cowboy looked down at his hands, he had been rubbing them unconsciously her realized. It wasn't a surprise though, it seemed he did it a lot these days. "Aye," he said, "They hurt alright. Doctor over at the center says it's probably the rhumatiz. Arthritis. I'm not really surprised, my pa had it. It usually skips a generation, but I suppose it can't always be that way. Maybe it means it'll skip over sammy..." Branches watched him carefully, and measured the man. There was steel there under the pain, a keenly honed machine that was sinking in the mud. He seemed to shrug it off, but Branches could see it with the strange foresight granted by Illiana's influence. This man would sink into the mud and the machine of his body would fail as the muck clogged the works.

"I'm gettin' old Branches. I can still shoot and work, but no idea for how long. I mean, it's not going to kill me but..." He said, and Branches saw it. Saw in him a hint of something the homunculus had seen in itself. Hopelessness. This man knew that something was coming, some obsolescence, and it worried him. Weathered lines in his face, canyons that caught the light and drowned it in his countenance but which could soften. Branches saw it for itself, the softening. Floyd turned his face back to Branches and smiled. The look lit up his face and made it look young again. "Heh, you don't need me sharing any of this with you. You're still young after all. You won't have to worry about it for a long long time. Why don't you catch up with your parents?"

Branches slid from the chair uncertainly, and stood thinking. Then, the homunculus knelt and scooped up a handful of dirt.

"Watcha' doin'?" Floyd asked. It wasn't as obvious as one thought, and Floyd himself had little to no experience with the arcane. Branches took leftover ice and added it to the dirt, unsure of why it should care so much. There was an affinity between the two, that was all, and for some reason Branches couldn't stand seeing it's own uncertainty painted on the face of another. Besides, it still owed Floyd for the tea.

"Shush, hold up your hands and hold still." Branches instructed. Floyd did it and the Homunculus began painting his hands with the new mud, gently pushing the wet clay in between the old mans fingers and over his palms until he was wearing a pair of mud mitts. The effect of the Homunculus peculiar form of magic took a moment to present itself.

"What is this about? Mud therapy or something? Kiddo, this isn't- Oh. What?"

The mud dried and cracked, and as it fell away from his hands, taking the pain with it, Branches turned away and disappeared into the woods northwest of Walkerville.


It was down the the Sharlene part of itself that the Homunculus owed it's more mischievous and negative aspects. It wandered the woods in the lessening light and tried to puzzle out why it had done what it did for the old man and finding no satisfactory answer. The small magic that Branches had woven would only last a few months, a year at most, but it would stall the degeneration in the cowboys hands. When it stumbled on another person in need when the morning sun began to peek it's first rays about the tree tops, Branches reaction was entirely different.

It stood and watched the prone form of the scarred woman in the blue robe laying face down in the dirt. She was alive and seemingly healthy, but Branches didn't like the smell of her. She stank of sheared copper, human decay, fear, adrenaline, and madness. The book though smelled worse. The book smelled outright evil. That didn't stop Branches from taking it and perusing it's pages though. Branches was always interested in new books. This one though was a complete cryptic mystery to it though. The letters were wide and swooping, a language that Branches didn't understand. How the woman read it was an absolute mystery.

Branches looked the woman over, checking her for some clue. Nothing. Not a single clue. So the book was set aside, and Branches got to work replacing the stolen blanket with the woman's robes. The robe showed surprisingly little wear and tear and it seemed to bear no stains or grime that Branches could find. To top it all off, it had a hood and could hide Branches features much more easily.

"Stealing is wrong..." Branches mumbled a little guiltily, "But I suppose... hm..."

Something told Branches to leave the robe and book alone, but at the same time it couldn't really let them go. Branches wanted to study the strange new book and Branches wanted to own the fancy self cleaning robe. After a long moment of hard thought, Branches took them. The woman probably wouldn't even remember having them... Probably.
« Last Edit: September 03, 2018, 11:38:58 am by saltmummy626 »
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5041 on: September 03, 2018, 01:45:43 pm »
Liam noticed the scrutiny he was being put under by Hector. Shrugging it off he did recall running into the man’s home and cutting his friend’s hand off. He had to admit this was fair, hell even trying to attack him would have been fair.  “I’m Liam. The uh..magic guy of the group. If it helps, and I know it probably doesn’t, we were manipulated into what we did.”

At the question about if he was alright Liam smiled. “Yeah I’m okay. Bastard forgot I was wearing a chestplate.” he said as he pulled the robe off and stuffed it into his bag. Adjusting his chestplate he continued “And yeah we’ve been living with Helen for a while. I mean technically Isaac is our leader, he does still have the spear, but he’s left us in her care for the time being.”

Finishing with his adjustments he concluded “But uh, if there is anything I can do for you do let me know. I’d be more than happy to help. Especially given what we’ve done in the past I’d say helping in any way we can is the last we can do.”

saltmummy626

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5042 on: September 04, 2018, 12:12:23 am »
Catalina set down her radio and paused the footage before her at around a certain point in the early morning. In the footage, she'd watched as Stockworth went about his duties locking down the back bays and checking the exterior entrances before sweeping up, taking inventory, and settling in with a magazine. Catalina had watched over and over as a figure in a blue robe came into the motorpool and stalked around the office. If Stockworth had stood up, he would have even seen his killer wandering around through the large windows looking out on the motorpool floor. The killer spent some time in the office before finally finding a tool box and taking out what looked like an ice pick, an awl, or perhaps one of the guiding pegs that the mechanic living in Walkerville made and distributed to fellow mechanics. Then, the murderer made a bee line for the man and proceeded to take out whatever frustrations they had on the unfortunate mechanic. What happened after was strange. The woman, and it was obviously a woman, stood over Stockworths body for half an hour before getting to work drawing some kind of sigil or seal on the floor with Stockworth's blood. It gave the captain a shiver just looking at it, the strange sign on the floor. Catalina had had the motorpool locked off to keep people from muddying the crime scene, but she had to admit that the entire room now instilled in those that went in a sense of profound dread. Better to keep people out for their own safety.

Catalina was still looking at the sign drawn on the floor through the camera feed when she was pulled from the growing sense of horror by a professional rap upon her door. Without being invited, Maskens let herself in and took the seat opposite her. Catalina both did and did not like Maskens, the woman was too uptight. Too rigid. Something had softened the doctor recently though, and so Catalina too had softened a bit on Maskens.

"We have an issue." Maskens said, again without being invited.

"Oh, I have enough of those already doc, what's this new turd hitting my desk fan?"

"Kringle has passed away."
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5043 on: September 05, 2018, 03:15:09 am »
It had been a hectic two weeks for Roxanne. After the little talk Roxanne and Lucy had, the two walked to the cafeteria of sorts in the office tower where they were greeted by Clara, Rey and Christina. The three immediately asked where Lucy had been but that question was soon substituted by asking Roxanne what had happened to her. The five of them sat down and both Lucy and Roxanne explained about Plague, how he went crazy, try to assimilate Roxanne and how it backfire. Then what specifically had happened to Roxanne and how those tattoos where how she was able to stay stable.

“And what about your eyes… still pink but… the bit that’s supposed to be white is now black…” Asked Christina.

“Side effects of my stupidity I suppose…”, Roxanne responded, “Speaking of…” with a deep sigh, Roxanne produced both Void, now a one-handed bastard sword, and Convergence, now a kukri. The other three were confused while Lucy smirked and Roxanne gave a deep sigh. “Go on...speak you two…”

“Mom… who are these people? Are they friendly?”, asked Void

“We are ready to defend you if it comes to that!”, exclaimed Convergane.

There was a sudden moment of silence in the room before it was filled with laughter. Roxanne was now more annoyed than ever.

“My my, you had a night of reckless fun and now suffered the consequence every woman fears out of it. It usually takes 9 months for that though. Who is the father anyways?”, Clara teased.

“Well, about decaded ago Roxanne would’ve hoped that Rey here was the answer to that question.”, Christina added.

Roxanne glared at her over that comment and it earned her a smack over the head from Rey. “Easy you two. We still don’t know what’s going on.”

“No no… let them have their fun… I deserve it… I don’t even know what to do…”

The room fell silent once more. This time it was Lucy who spoke up. “Well, how about we have a meal first am then we discuss that? I am sure we can come up with something.” The others quickly agreed on the suggestion and Lucy used the Debug Menu to summon some food. Clara and Christina received normal food while Roxanne and Rey got something special given they were both spirits. After the meal the 5 got to discussion and a few hours later emerged with a plan.

The next two weeks were spent putting that plan in motions. As much as Roxanne wanted to go back to the farm Lucy denied her that saying she still needed to be monitored. The deadline of the note Roxanne had left behind eventually passed and Roxanne worried how the others would react when she didn't come back. She hope Victor had at least reacted to the note she had left him the way she wanted but even that was pushed back as the days passed.

First Roxanne explained how as she was now the sword of Assimilation itself she could acquire the abilities of others and right now she only had Plague’s ability over the control of blob infested zombies. Given this Clara offered Roxanne her magery so she could learn spells and Rey his affinity for spirits so she could interact with the metaphysical like any other spirit could. This was a start and then she went to practice this skills under the guidance of the others.

She had many spars against them, they taught her the basics of the arcane and essence, something even Victor hadn’t done given Roxanne waa rather impatient and just wanted results. Lucy would keep track of her and run test every now and then to see how the seal were holding up. After a long day of lessons and practice Roxanne would retire to her temporary quarters and lay there given she couldn’t sleep anymore. This time was not wasted however, as she used it to talk to Void and Convergence; Roxanne got to know the two sword spirits, the two that now called her their mother. Through this she learned that the old desire to unite had been unkindled and now they sought their own individuality. Roxanne could sympathise with this and soon she grew to like the two sword spirits.

“Maybe this isn’t so bad…”, Roxanne would say to herself. After a conversation with them.

Roxanne improved much during those two weeks and Lucy told her she would no longer need her checkups. She had learned how to perform some spells and create essance given she found the materials. Now longer was she the powerhouse she once was and while she had nothing to fear from the undead or bandits she could hope at best to become a glass cannon against anyone with the most rudimentary of arcane skills; damage her seals enough and it was over.

“Alright Luna, you are cleared.”, Lucy told Roxanne, “It’s been two weeks now, your seals seems to be stable… you are free to go.”

Roxanne gave a deep sigh of relief as she put her clothing back on. Finally she was allowed to go back, go home. Despite this, something still nagged her. “And what do I do now?”

Lucy shrugged. “Live your life I guess. I gave you free will, use it.”

“That’s the problem… this whole ordeal, no, all of my problems can be traced to something: lack of direction. I need something to look forward to; a goal, an objective, a target to kill, an item to steal, a problem to fix… the next missions… I go back to walkerville and then what?”

Roxanne looked at Lucy with a face that betrayed her need for an answer. Lucy stayed silent for a moment before she gave a satisfied grin. “I have an idea but I need to talk to someone first. Why don’t you go tell the other the news first then we’ll talk?”

The two exited Roxanne’s room where the other three were waiting. Lucy asked for Christina to enter so the two could talk in private while Roxanne approached Rey and Clara.

“You doing alright?”, asked Rey, his hands brandishing his weapon: an arcane laser rifle at the suggestion of Roxanne. She smiled at the sight.

“Yeah, Lucy said I am cleared and can go home now. I am stable and thanks to all of you I can defend myself as well, thank you for that.”, Roxanne responded.

“It’s good to hear you are doing well. That said, are you really going back home?”, asked Clara.

“Yeah, I have been away for too long. Besides, I only left because I have commitment issues. The prospect of settling down scared me, to have to sacrifice my sovereignty but due to it I no longer have a choice. So, to walkerville it is.”

Rey and Clara looked at each other and smiled before looking back to Roxanne. “Well, we are coming with you.” Rey announced.

“You promised me you would take me to see my little brother Victor. You can’t back down now.”, Clara added.

Roxanne looked at the two a bit confused but then she herself smiled. There was nothing to be afraid; she wasn’t alone. Both here and in Walkerville she had people who care about her and that is all that mattered. Yes, she had this realization before but always with a hint of doubt in the back of her mind; it took her a moment of humbling vulnerability for it to sink it.

“Alright, pack you things guys, we are going to walkerville! I can’t wait for you to meet the gang; Catnip and Kath, Dee and Mica, Lilith, Nate, Granpa Floyd, Victor of course, and my beloved knight… It will be fun!”

Suddenly the door to Roxanne’s room opened and both Lucy and Christina exited with hands behind their backs and standing as if waiting to make an announcement; and indeed they were going to do just that.

“Listen up people”, Lucy said, the three others turned their attention to them, “Founder Christina has a few words to say. Ma’am?”

Christina stepped forward and cleared her throat before speaking. “As you here are all aware, I was one of the founder of Shadows of Arcana. Under the guidance of Grandmaster Jonathan we became a force in the arcane underground and achieve many great things. Flawed as he may have been, I mean, the fucker disowned me, killed a woman seeking peace and lost the one thing he based his organization around to the enemy only to be killed himself… anyways, he did manage to leave the blueprint for what SoA became. In the shadows it always stood seeking to understand the unknown and master it for the betterment of humanity. Where other shun away the marvels of modern technology we embraced it and with my help we developed our own infrastructure and what was akin to a militia. Now, SoA is no more, it was snuffed along with the vast majority of its members… But, we are still here, we can still make a difference. So with the authority vested in my I would like to announce the revival of Shadows of Arcane. I grandmaster Christina will make amends where needed and move our organization forwards. We will reclaim our great name and together will will combat the evils of this world that now plague us; be it forces long ago forgotten or invaders from other worlds… I ask you that you join me…

Agent Rey Steller, Purifier Clara Ironwood… and Huntress Roxanne Luna, will you answer the call?”



In a bunker not to far away from the office tower were Luna recided. A peculiar undead made the preparations to seal itself away from the world for a while. In its hands were the biological rifle and sword as he addressed the 6 mages who created the pieces of anomon as well as the two shields. Bio-Weapon Psi, when Plague was brought down it regained its sapience and and booked it out of the tower after quiring the two flesh weapons in the chaos of Roxanne and Plague’s struggled as everyone else slept.

The 6 mages were no longer under Plague’s control either and as such sought something to latch onto and Psi made the perfect candidate. The 7 of them secured a bunker after gathering some supplies and had now made preparations to stay in the shadows for an indefinite time frame. What they had planned when they finally decided to emerge, it would seems not even they knew 100%.



What appeared to be a convoy was traveling awfully closed to the center. It seemed to be going around it taking a route very rarely traveled. For anyone checking out with binoculars they would see a motorcycle leading an armored vehicle and what appeared to be a military cargo truck. Who was in the two back vehicles could not be determine as they hid inside but the rider of the vehicle was wearing a wooden mask and a cloak over their form. Their hands appeared to be bandage and the cloak prevented any view of their outfit. Whoever this people were, they seemed awfully careful not to approach the center as they traveled along roads making twist and turns going on unnecessary long routes to do so.
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5044 on: September 05, 2018, 01:11:56 pm »
(( Catalina and others bit written with Salt, Hector and Floyd stuff written with Wilson. ))



Catalina was rubbing her temples in frustration as she made her way out into the main room of the center. "This isn't good...I assume Colonel Luther been made aware of this?" she asked, already pondering what should be done. The colonel was most likely busy discussing their plans of securing safe routes between New England and Canada, possibly with the General's direct subordinates. And now she had multiple concerns on her hands. The time slab still needed to be dealt with, soon deciding to meet with the mage hunter that was heading to the center.

As she walked, she decided to pick up the radio she had. "This is Captain Catalina, if anyone over at The Hall or Walkerville is receiving this. We've recently requested the assistance of one of your members of the Cleansing Flame to assist in something, but we might need the assistance of both of them."

Maskens parted ways with Catalina as they passed through the infirmary hall. Maskens domain was quiet today, fortunately. The woman had less serious problems to deal with now that Efram had arrived with his nurses to deal with a good measure of the work load, leaving the centers head doctor to do paperwork. Paperwork like post mortem reports.

"I've paperwork to do Captain, you will attend the autopsies later?" She asked. Catalina nodded and said that she would. It was part of her duties to do so, especially with one so important. "Good good. While you're meeting with these 'mage hunters' do you think you could apologize to Sylvia for me? I'm going to miss lunch. Never eat before an autopsy..."

After that, the captain finished the short walk to the foyer to wait for the people she'd called on, but found that one of them was there already. An uncomfortable looking man carrying a simple mask accompanied by a Misling woman in a red robe. Catalina was somewhat familiar with the latter, Sylvia 'le Strange' Maskens. Dr. Sydney Maskens' long lost sister.

"Dr. Maskens asked me to relay her apologies Ms. Sylvia, she has a lot of paperwork and a double autopsy suddenly come up today. This is your husband?" She asked. Sylvia frowned and sighed while Daniel shuffled his feet nervously.

"Well shoot, what autopsy is so important that a lady can't have lunch with her own sister and that sisters man?"

"One unexpected murder, and the passing of the Canadian Armed Forces' commanding officer. The latter is related to why I have asked you to come here. There was an artifact in their possession that he advocated members of your group to deal with, and given the premature aging it induced..." she said, trailing off.

She then gave a little nod upon regarding the mage hunter. "The item that they advocated you deal with was what they referred to as a 'time slab', and doesn't match anything in the records maintained back at Site 4. Evidently the Canadian's equivalent did have experience with these things, however."

"A murder? Hopefully it's an isolated case. In this day and age, such things can get into peoples heads and drive them to panic. Sylvia tells me that things are just starting to move forward here, and we don't need anyone running wild..." He tapered off awkwardly. Talking had never been Daniels strong suit. Investigating and acting on the evidence given, those were where he shone best. It was Sylvia whom he relied on most to do the talking for him. She was the one with a way with words, not him. "As for this slab, I can only hazard a tentative guess but is it perhaps an Arch-slab?"

"A fragment of another world." Sylvia put in, "The sanguine council was seeking one for their... er... my, screaming engine."

"Screaming engine?" Catalina asked, but Sylvia shook her head.

"No, I don't want to go into it. Danny dearest, why don't you go look at this time thingy of hers? I'm going to go mope in the cafe."

Sylvia kissed Daniel on the cheek and wandered in the direction of the centers cafe, and he watched her go. From the corner of her eye, Catalina noticed the newcomer in the armor crossing the foyer. A strange one, carrying a... A fox? She was reminded painfully of Atomos and pushed the thoughts away. There were matters at hand to deal with. The newcomer was under watch, she didn't need to worry about it right now. As for the fox, a quirky pet and nothing more.

"I have no Idea sir," She explained, "General Kringle only advised that I seek out members of the Cleansing Flame to deal with it and I am well aware of what the machine this 'time slab' is powering can do." A thought occurred to her and she added, "Perhaps you'd take a look at something in the motorpool as well? The machine, the Midgard, has been moved there for temporary storage anyway."

"Ah, I suppose so long as it's something you are comfortable with me seeing without my compatriot here, though I'd really rather not handle this slab without her around. lead the way."

Catalina gave a nod as she turned to lead the way. "Very well then. If you'd like, I am expecting Mrs. McKinnon to arrive here as well, though the recent murder also has a touch of something that might fall under your group's area of expertise. Since we're still reviewing the evidence and security footage, that can wait." she said, the two soon entering the motor pool, to examine the Midgard while waiting for Helen.



Hector gave a nod at the answer, seeming to still be wary yet at least not on edge. "Guessing it had something to do with whoever the seventh person was." he said, before shrugging it off. "In any case, I'm glad things have settled down then, I'll trust Helen to handle matters." he said.

Soon however, Helen stepped out of The Hall, giving a concerned glance over to Liam as she handed something to Hector. A scroll, and something written on another piece of paper. "Liam, are you alright?" she asked, before something interrupted. Catalina's voice over the radio.

"Understood. I was just finishing up with some tasks here, so I will arrive shortly." she answered, looking back to Liam with a sigh. By now Hector had already walked off, accepting the items she handed over to him. "At least we got a couple days before something came up again..." she said softly.

She went back inside the Hall to gather her things, explain the situation to Victor, before again making her way back out, along the shore and across the bridge, to head towards the center.



It wasn't long before Hector was back at Walkerville, making his way over to what was once the old barn. The forge area was still nearby, and every day he did his work there, he did so in sight of that birch tree. As far as he was concerned it was in an inconvenient spot, and it was to blame for the barn being ruined. But it was still there, largely due to Roxanne's insistence.

Floyd would be the one to see what was happening as he walked by, noticing the rustle of leaves and creak of branches. "C'mon kid, you're gonna get yourself hurt climbin' th-" He looked over, expecting to find some misling kid clambering up it, or maybe Mica. Instead he realized that there was a shield and old backpack left at the base of the tree, and the glint of armor betrayed who was actually climbing it.

Floyd squinted up at Hector, "Chrissakes, kid. The hell are you doin'?!" He drawled, trying to get a better look at him. "I'm too damn old to be climbing after your hide, get down from there!" After a moment Hector shifted a bit, moving one limb at a time, lowering himself before dropping the last seven feet. "Sorry if I startled you Floyd." he said, before retrieving something that he'd hastily tucked into his drop leg pouch. One of a few small birch nuts, still in its winged pod, early enough in the season that they hadn't fallen yet. "It's a bit of a long story, but there was something I needed a couple of these for."

Floyd pinched the bridge of his nose, "An' I got time. Explain." He said, glaring. Hector gave a little sigh at that. "I asked Helen for help with something I was going to do. It sounds stupider now that I explain it, but she suggested planting something with personal significance to...well, Roxanne. And I'm not about to go seeing what happens when you plant Jim in proper soil."

Floyd gave Hector a look, "Ain't it a lil' early to be doin' that? Just cuz she's gone doesn't mean she's dead. She's been gone for what, a couple of days?" He said, raising a brow. Hector gave a nod at that. "True. To be honest I'd wanted to surprise her with it if I got the opportunity to, been thinking on the idea for a little while. So if she's alright, this would be a good chance to do this." he said, before adding. "I had just the place in mind, as well. Bit of a trip, half-hour at most."

Floyd sighed, "Can't have you dyin' ... I'll come with." He requested simply. Hector gave a nod at that, smiling underneath the helm. "Thank you. I think Nathaniel's over by the tank, might even get him to come along too." he remarked, Floyd giving a little shrug as they made their preparations.

Floyd, if anything, was more concerned about what led Hector to start clambering up a tree over some gardening project, deciding to go along with it even with Nathaniel manning the commander's hatch in the tank. Not like I've been in the turret lately...not as cramped as I remember it. he thought, as the tank started up and set off down the path through the swamp.

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5045 on: September 05, 2018, 04:20:20 pm »
“She who shall awaken… I am the wielder of Anomon’s burden. I am indifferent to the union and scoff at the goal. I, the maiden of ruin, will show you true despair.”

Melody was taking a small break from her now somewhat routine tasks. She was eating a sandwich chanting that under her breath multiple times. Those words appeared on her mind suddenly without explanation but she had an idea of what they meant. She tried to contact Despair but the sword wouldn’t answer; well, not until now.

“Do not fret my child, for I have awaken!”

“Can you cut that out? This is serious!”, Melody whispered angrily.

A small laugh resonated from Despair in Melody’s mind. “Hahaha, you are so easy my dear. Sorry I didn’t respond sooner; it wasn’t safe. What do you need?”

Melody explained to Despair about the chant and how she had no idea what it was. “Would you know?”

“Ah yes, the chant for my Sword Drive.”, Despair responded.

“Sword Drive?”, Melody asked, “What is that.”

“Well, when I or one of my brethren deem a weidler worthy enough, they may use a specific chant to active our Sword Drive. Think of it as a last resort ability we can bestow our wielders in case of an emergency. Each one of us gives our wielder a different benefit with our drives.”

“Different ability? Like what?”

“Well, I grant my wielder the skillset, rage and determination of every wielder before hand; and not just my wielder's but the ones of my brethren too. Convergence grants their wielder the ability to use their 7 stored abilities at once. Assimilation harvester all energy around it to power all the abilities it acquired; it is essentially infinite energy while the effect last. And void grants its own power to its wielder; or they can choose to bargain with the spirit inside the blade to channel that power instead, however, they price of that bargain is up to said spirit.”

“T-that’s… pretty cool actually! Can I activate your sword drive?”

Despair gave another hardy laugh. “No no, you are still too inexperienced at this. The fact you want to activated it just because it’s cool signifies you aren’t ready. Besides, if you did, it would give my location away and we can’t have that; this place is cozy enough plus you are now finally a productive member of society.”

“I will choose to ignore that… then why did I suddenly learned the chant?”

“It seems the forces within me are gearing up for trouble… nothing should come of it but in times of great desperation we may temporarily grant a wielder to access our drives before they are ready. Just keep doing what you are doing and you will be fine… Also, you might want to finish that sandwich, your break is almost over.”



It had taken a while but Victor was re-learning many of his lost skills; he hadn't forgotten how to do them he simply had forgotten the ability itself so he “learned” these skills rather quickly as he was just relearning the steps to perform them. However, one of these skills was giving him trouble: the shadow spirit.

The shadow spirit was an ability he had learned years before even meeting alt-Roxanne. It was the ability to grant your shadow sentience and bind it to you by removing any chance of it having free will. He had temporarily sacrificed this when he was in the works of getting Randael as the spirit of the void; he temporarily made his shadow spirit the spirit of the void causing him to be without a shadow until Randael accepted his offer. However, now the shadow spirit wouldn’t even manifest.

He had already learned a similar ability; he could manifest the shadows of a room and make them temporary shadow spirits but it wasn’t the same. Keyword being temporary. He had used this ability to show Lucy he could defend himself back when she paid him a visit. Despite being able to do this the shadow spirit spell didn’t work.

“Maybe I am missing something… It’s a fun puzzle at least. Hmm...wonder if anyone else would know about it…”



The convoy, if you could call it that, stopped just shy of accessing a road that would take it towards the farm. It had successfully avoided the center and the hall arriving where it wanted to go. However, both the armored vehicle and the cargo truck stopped, a passenger got off and got in the motorcycle along with the cloaked driver and the two continued on towards walkerville following the road that would take them straight. The passenger appeared to be a man wearing a brown duster, denim pants, a black polo shirt and a grey Kevlar west; for head gear he was wearing a cowboy hat with six bullets in the front and a wooden mask similar to the driver.

“You will the all the talking for now alright? We have to gauge the people’s reaction here first. As far as they know I am a mute, got it?”, the cloaked driver said as they clutched at their wooden mask.

“As you wish. What shall be our names?”

“Eh, how about Eris for me and Leonard for you?”

“Then Leonard will happily serve mistress Eris with my entire being.”

“Geez, a bit dramatic much? Anyways, here we are...walkerville…”

The motorcycle reached side of the farm where the various structures and people could be seen. The driver slowed down until they turned the corner to the proper entrance gulping hard at the sight of catnip’s train. They both got off the motorcycle, Eris took out a piece of paper from inside her cloak and Leonard step forward incase anyone approached. Both were armed with revolvers visible on both sides of their waists just in case. These weapons weren’t meant for the people of walkerville but for both the hazards of the cataclysm and those who seeked to harm them. Not that the people of walkerville would know. The two walked inside of the farm looking around the buildings for one in specific, their confidence evident as if they owned the place, and took mental notes of the place.
« Last Edit: September 05, 2018, 04:27:01 pm by Noctifer-De-Mortem »
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saltmummy626

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5046 on: September 05, 2018, 05:53:56 pm »
[wilson provided the third paragraph]

"I recognize that man." Atomos told Horace as he handed his horses reines over to a Misling offering to take it to the centers "new" pasture for him. Horace followed the line of Atomos eyes to a man standing near an empty stall outside the front entrance to the refugee center, smoking a cigarette. It was busy out front, people coming and going like Atomos had not seen before. She wasn't surprised to see this particular man simply standing idle while the people around him worked so hard. "Skittles..." She growled. The sound surprised her in that it was audible. Horace heard the words in it, as did Atomos, but the Misling taking Horaces horse didn't.

"Uh, sorry mate but uh, I hope that things had it's shots. Know what I mean? Maybe keep it on a leash or something?"

Horace looked over and down at the misling, "She has. Don't worry though, it wasn't towards you." He said, looking over at Skittles as the man Atomos had growled at disappeared into the center. "Why the reaction, young one?" He said quietly, glancing down at Atomos.

"Skittles is Hell's Raiders, but last I saw him he was trying to squeeze his way into Big Smoke's position at the top of the gang." Atomos said, "What is he doing here though?"

Meanwhile, the man flicked his cigarette away and went inside. Atomos didn't miss the disgusted look a woman gave him before stomping out the still lit cigarette before the grass could catch fire. There were other people of course, but most of the individuals coming and going weren't people Atomos recognized. Not many of them anyway. She'd been gone for such a short time but already, things had changed. There was even a sign above the centers double doors reading "Welcome to New Paris" and there were tents and canopies set up where the old car garden used to be.

A young lady, one Atomos recognized from the center, approached Horace and asked him a question that Atomos suspected she would be hearing a lot of about something she now realized she would also have to expect a lot of.

"Excuse me sir, can I pet your fox?"
Without waiting for an answer, the lady leaned over and gave Atomos a long stroke from the back of her head to the root of her tail. The experience was somewhat less pleasurable than the fox anticipated. The young lady though loved it, going so far as to give Atomos another couple pets for good measure.

"Aw, she's so soft! Where did you get it? Is she trained?"

Horace wasn't sure what to say to that, unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, Atomos was an individual capable of speaking to him if not to the lady. On the other, the fox didn't seem to want people to know she was the centers ranger. She didn't think they would believe it.

"What I really want..." Atomos wimpered, "Is to go to my room."

"Aw, what's wrong? Too much attention?" The lady asked, hearing the wimpering whining noise Atomos was making. Horace scooped her up gently and craddled the fox in one arm.

"That's enough." He stated simply. The young woman stole one last little stroke of an ear, and a scratch behind that same. The petting was nothing to Atomos, but that scratch... That was very nice. Horace only managed a few steps before he was stopped again, and this time Atomos leaned into the scratching. Inside, Cheena moaned contentedly. It seemed she could feel the same feelings as Atomos after all.

Several forced stops and a lot of petting, scratching, questions, and a piece of some kind of sausage later, they finally managed to get into the center. Inside it wasn't that different from when Atomos had departed the month before. Somehow, that made her heart ache a little. Like coming home and finding that everything had changed except, nothing had changed. Nothing except herself. She wasn't home, not yet. Her friends were here, her stuff was here, but as long as she was in the condition she was in, she was not yet home.

Off to one side, she spotted the Captain talking to a middle aged man and a mouse faced woman, and she let out a low growl. To calm her, Horace put a hand on her head and tried to divert her attention.

"Not yet young one. What will you do now?" He asked. Atomos sniffed dismissively. The suit of armor was right she couldn't confront Catalina now. For now, all she wanted to do was rest. Rest in her own room, her own bed.

"Take me to my room, it's that way. That guy the Captain is talking to has a mask like the lady I'm looking for. After you get me to my room, do you think you could talk to him and see if he knows her? Maybe he can bring her here or maybe he knows where I can go to meet with her myself."
« Last Edit: September 06, 2018, 01:09:47 am by saltmummy626 »
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5047 on: September 06, 2018, 01:58:15 am »
As Helen and Hector both left Liam decided to lay down for a while. The last thing he noticed before drifting to sleep was Eino sneaking out of a window. And what strange dreams awaited him.

Elsewhere Garric sighed. He and his men were armed now and had taken care of a bit of business over the past couple of weeks. They had done good work too, efficient and ruthless. So why did he find himself here of all places. He’d not been here in thirty years.

Lighting the candles arranged in front of him Garric wasn’t sure if this would all still work. The damage, the holes, in the veil might stop it. He was so tired after all. But if he knew something, had a purpose again, he could keep going.

Closing his eyes and waiting a few moments he felt himself begin to ‘move’. When he opened his eyes he was staring at a man in a red robe. Looking up from his book Scholar sighed. “How did you get here?”

Looking around Garric said “I performed a ritual. It was supposed to take me to the Sisters of Fate..not here.”

Standing and closing the book he’d been writing in Scholar recognized the man. ‘Garric’, one of many assumed names, the boogeyman of boogeymen. Founder and sole commander of the 32 society, which also had a few dozen other names it operated under. And one of the few who could actually visit the Sisters of Fate without being called by them. Scholar was half tempted to kill the man where he stood but he’d interfered enough. “My guess is that the veil is still repairing itself and or being repaired. That damage may have accidentally redirected you here. So..without a way to properly redirect you I suppose I’ll have to answer your question.”

Garric sighed frustratedly as he said “I..I was looking to learn something of my fate.”

Scholar rolled his eyes at that. Walking over to a bookshelf he rummaged through part of it before retreiving a faintly glowing orb Scholar tossed it to Garric. The instant it was in his hands Garric heard a jumble of voices calling out to him as scholar said “That was a gift from the Sisters of Fate. Supposedly it’ll do what you want, but it won’t be as clear as the Sisters themselves.”

The voices kept speaking all at once. After a few minutes the voices finally became more coherent. “Protect..save them..he will find them..” they seemed to be saying followed by an image of a man. Horns twisted and turned out of the helmet he wore and it looked like the man had been raked by machinegun fire. “The boogeyman is coming..doom will follow..”

As Garric handed the orb back to Scholar he thanked him. Shrugging Scholar returned to his book as his unexpected guest left. He’d heard the voices and seen the image as well. He saw everything that happened in his library. Leaning back he found himself unable to write for the first time since time itself had started and he was faintly aware of how much that annoyed all of the other versions of him. “So… I am the anomaly we anticipated?” As he spoke he concentrated and found that through as many universes he was aware of he had not once stepped in to change things except twice. No other version of himself had done this save two. One expediting his world’s destruction to save the veil and the other..the other had to step in. He was a god in that world and had to play the part so he wasn’t the anomaly that Scholar had anticipated.

Cutting himself off from the others Scholar stood up and began pacing. “From here..from here I must be careful. I am not so strictly bound to my task in this world as the others. If I overstep then..then I’ll die. The others will see to that. After all when you exist in every universe possible you learn how to deal with problems.” Stopping and looking at the ceiling he said “And I’m one of sixty seven that talk to themselves. One of twenty that have learned to cut themselves off from the rest. And..I’m the anomaly. Why was it this world that had to have the shit luck of the shifting?”

Meanwhile Grey found himself lying on the floor. Most spirits didn’t feel fatigue as far as he could tell. But here he was feeling so goddamn tired. Forcing himself to sit up he wondered out loud “Why did my bitch of a mother have to sacrifice me to a dying god?” and caused himself to pause. "A..dead god. A god who doesn't exist anymore.."

As that sunk in he stared blankly at the wall. The god he'd been serving for so long was dead. So why in the name of all that exists was he still doing what she wanted him to do all those centuries ago? He was free. So now it was time to find a new purpose he supposed.

Looking around he saw several people walking by, and through, him but none noticed. Seeing a gurney with a child on it he decided to stand and see what was happening. Walking through the halls he stopped at the surgery ward and looked through the window in the door.

He almost screamed when he saw them fucking up a few moments later. In his current state he could tap into people’s minds and utilize their knowledge for a short time. And luckily enough there was a medically knowledgeable mind nearby. Walking through the door he ripped the scalpel from the doctor’s hand and set to work. Of course a randomly flying and moving scalpel caused some concern.

Some meaning excessive amounts. Excessive amounts leading to the doctor and nurses stepping back as Grey finished the surgery perfectly, turned, and slapped the doctor before realizing he’d just spent what little essence he’d managed to retain. Stepping back and dropping the tools in his hands he turned and started back down the hall.

Turning a corner and sifting through a few walls he came to a stop in an office. Finding a man in an office asleep he decided to try and make a deal. Stepping into their mind he found himself..in the same office except now the man was drinking coffee and wearing a sweater and pair of loose fitting sweatpants. Looking up the man was immediately aware that Grey didn’t belong.

The fact he was talking in German somewhat surprised Grey as well when the man said “So..who are you and why are you interrupting my dream of not having to wear a uniform that chafes all the fucking time while I sip coffee and not having to do paperwork?”
Grey sighed. He didn’t have anything to bargain with anymore. His control over those other spirits was gone now and he had lost his little hoard of treasures. “I..I came to make a deal. I noticed your other doctors aren’t that good. I could..help with that.”

Krieg sighed as well as he stood up and said “You obviously aren’t a physical creature. But I’m going to guess you can actually help, trying to be fair I suppose. But what do you get out of it?”

Grey looked down at his hands and noticed they were beginning to decay. “I..my soul has been damaged. I need to bond with another, or replace the damaged portion, to continue to exist. If I don’t then I’ll poof out of existence.”

Krieg observed Grey for a few moments. “I assume I can decide to revoke this little deal?”

Grey nodded as he said “Yes. This kind of thing..well the person who has the larger portion of the soul can decide not to be bonded to the other if they so desire. And I..I swear I’ll do good. I can’t just sit aside and let people die for no reason.”

Krieg rolled his eyes as he told Grey “You realize I can look into your memories, you’ve decided to let me do that for some reason. You’ve spent gods know how long trying to keep ‘balance’ and you’re going to give it up now?”

Grey smiled at that. “I opened up my memories so you weren’t going into this blind. And yes but..almost dying gives you a new perspective. I’ve spent so long in the service of a dead god, I decided..I decided I’m not going to serve it anymore. It’s time for me to take my destiny into my own hands even if that means giving up all of that power.”

Krieg sipped more of the dream coffee before nodding to Grey. “Fine. But if you fuck us over, you bring trouble to me or anyone else here, or do anything out of line I’ll kick your soul out of my metaphorical house.”

Krieg woke up, scratched his shoulder, and looked at Grey. “You need essence right?” he asked as he picked up a stone and tossed it to the spirit “My brother was involved in attempts to weaponize it. They decided to leave a few things to him once the project shut down, and in turn he left me a few things when he and his crew left.”

Grey absorbed the essence in the stone and tossed it back to Krieg. “Now that I’m not damaged, or at least bonded to another soul, I can start producing my own essence again. Granted it’ll be much slower than I’m used to so the jump start is appreciated.” he said as he turned to follow Krieg out the door and towards the medical ward.
« Last Edit: September 06, 2018, 02:00:36 am by RedVulnus »

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5048 on: September 06, 2018, 10:00:27 pm »
(( Helen and Daniel stuff written with Salt, Hector and Floyd stuff written with Wilson. ))

Daniel greeted Helen in the foyer, quickly ushering her along to the motorpool where Catalina was waiting.

"Do you feel it sister?" He asked, "Even without our masks, have you ever felt anything like it before?" Helen didn't feel anything, not at first, but after a moment of silence she thought she could hear something. A whisper, barely audible just on the very edge of perception, so low as to be next to impossible to understand. Then, she did feel it. A shiver that ran up her spine and down her arms. There was evil afoot.

"The stone? Is that-"

"No sister. The Captain here tells me that something happened early this morning, a murder. Ms. Sandell believes we should deal with the result first." He explained in a hushed tone. The air seemed heavy and somehow dark, making her feel glad that she'd brought all her tools. Catalina seemed worse off than Daniel, paler, jittery. Without a word, the Captain slid a key into the lock on the double doors leading to the refugee centers garage. The feeling of dread spiked. "Do you feel it now?" Helen nodded dumbly, the feeling was vile.

Inside, the two mage hunters moved slowly, Helen preparing her hammer while Daniel clenched his hands on nothing, wishing he still had his. The first thing they saw was the Midgard, not hard to miss with how it looked. Before reaching it though, they came across the sigil. It was around this that the feeling was strongest. A sigil of blood drawn in concentric circles. Within each circle was painted letters neither hunter could read, but which both could identify. Seeing it, they looked at one another and mouthed the same words.

"The Cult of Agony."

Aloud, Daniel said "Salt, we need salt."

Helen had brought a small bag of salt, but the task required quite a bit more than the meager amount she had packed. Soon however, with the sense of ease that the act brought, she looked around. "It'll take ages to boil up enough to repay the kitchen staff..." she muttered, before looking back to Daniel. "I suppose they'll have enough."

A quick trip to the cafeteria and Daniel had a bag of the stuff, the last of the centers supply. This the two hunters carefully laid over the image drawn on the floor, then scattered the rest around the Midgard and the area where the victim had been killed. The feeling lifted rapidly after that.

"I'm going to guess that you have more experience with this group than I have. My own kin had focused mainly on the Sanguine Order, and Shadows of Arcana." she admitted. Even then, the pattern was unmistakable, and the intel that got passed around back in the day was too unsettling for any hunter to forget.

"The Cult of Agony," Daniel said, "Were a group our order wiped out decades ago." He noticed Catalina close at hand and chose wisely not add that this murder might not be the first.

Catalina sighed a bit at that, more relieved than anything else. "We've got a rough idea of what the killer looks like. Female, pale, blue robe..." she said, looking back to some of the soldiers who had witnessed the peculiar ritual.

"That's good. For now, we should be safe to proceed with the Midgard and then perhaps pursue this killer after. Normally such investigations are not our area, but this killing has obvious arcane connections. One Sister McKinnon and I should pursue."

Helen sighed a bit as she examined the other items she brought with her, having no idea what might be needed for what she was asked to do with the slab. Her hammer counted as one such tool, her holy symbol, converted into a mana gem was another. Then there was the firestarting tools, a small ceramic bowl, salt that had been swiftly depleted, candles, and incense. Having no idea what to expect, she retrieved everything that came to mind as potentially useful.

Catalina looked over to Helen as she approached, standing there with Daniel as they gave the fittings for the slab a once-over. The actual mechanics of it weren't of any use to study, other than the vague aura of magic that would still be lingering where the slab was previously mounted after they'd removed it.



The trip was relatively short and uneventful, following directions along old roads and across overground fields to what seemed to be an old cave, standing out in the ground around it remaining rocky and barren.

Carefully Hector stopped the tank and got out, looking around as he approached the area in front of the cave entrance. Nathaniel gave a little shiver as he glanced over towards the cavern. "So this is...what's so special about this place anyway?"

Hector carefully retrieved an entrenching tool from a storage compartment in the tank, along with one of the birch nuts he'd picked. "This was where Roxanne and Victor went, where all this...sword spirit nonsense boiled over." he answered.

Floyd meanwhile gave Hector a concerned glance. "Y'know, trees don't grow overnight. What's the idea of planting something out here just for Roxanne to look at, kid?" he asked, and Hector retrieved the scroll Helen had given him. "That's why I asked Helen about this."

"Whoo boy, just um...try not to pull a Victor and go shitting out a ghost." Nathaniel joked. Hector ignored that remark as he dug out a small patch of softer ground in front of the cave entrance, kneeling by it. The first thing he did was remove the wax seal from the scroll, dropping it into the hole first, followed by one of the birch nuts.

"Now, her instructions said all I need is to use this ess-" It was then a chill swept through the air, and out of instinct both Floyd and Nathaniel moved forward, beside Hector as he stood. The source of the unease in the air became apparent as a figure emerged from the cave entrance. Human, tall and thin with a contorted mockery of bat wings, and an unearthly glow in its eyes. An angel of flesh, sprinting full-tilt towards the trio as its malevolent gaze swept over them.

Nathaniel had frozen up. No amount of training or experience had really prepared him for the horrible piercing eyes, that seemed to gaze right through him. Floyd however didn't freeze up, despite the unnerving aura the creature radiated. Out of reflex his iron cleared leather, and in just under two seconds, three shots rang out.

The first struck the creature in the gut, seemingly not even fazing it. Another through where a lung would be, if the creature even has any. It seemed to take a split-second before its charge faltered, slowed such that a shot through where its heart likely was fixed it in place. Halted, but still standing. But in the blur of activity, something stayed Floyd's hand, right before he could take careful aim at the creature's head. The sight of light reflecting off steel, out of the corner of his eye.

Hector hadn't frozen up either, and was already charging at it. Those three shots likely sealed the flesh angel's fate, but that didn't matter to the knight. It'd likely drop within the minute and yet it could easily trample over his work before then. In those few seconds he charged, and which it staggered it barely got a chance to try and backpedal before the heavy thump of shield meeting flesh and bone resounded, and in the same moment his sword opened up the creature's side.

The next few seconds were a flurry of scrabbling and heavy strikes, the creature bowled over as a berserk fury replaced technique. By the end of it Hector was standing over what was left, the creature's ribcage split open, head cloven asunder, one arm halfway chopped off.

Floyd set a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder as he holstered his piece, feeling his nerves calm again. "Sloppy, keep your mind in the fight." he said firmly, Nathaniel looking away. "That...doesn't usually happen to me." he remarked. Hector, having wiped the blade clean before sheathing it, simply smiled a bit under the helm. "Hope Lilith never hears you say that." he joked, a remark that made the other two facepalm, Floyd muttering under his breath. "Crissakes..."

Hector looked back towards the small patch of upset earth, breathing a sigh of relief. it remained undisturbed. He then raised a hand, small motes of essence drifting and swirling around him, drawn from the steaming corpse splayed out before him. "Essence is essence, so..." he said. Technically untrue, but what remained after the strange creature's death was the same sort as what Helen gave him a vial of.

He carefully sprinkled the motes of essence into the small hole he'd dug out, carefully laying earth over it to cover it up. "Last instruction is...stand back." he said, the three of them backing away as the mound of dirt shifted, a tiny sapling emerging from the ground. Within a matter of moments it grew, and grass spread around it as well, the tree growing out just as the first birch tree had when Mica's influence altered the scroll she accidentally activated.

"Jesus...so are these trees gonna do that all the time? At this rate, when they're in season the whole farm is gonna be a forest." Nathaniel remarked, Hector shaking his head as he held up the now-inert scroll. A scroll of regrowth. "Only reason is using the same sort of magic. Evidently using just the wax seal makes the effect more focused." he said, before looking back to what had grown over the area in front of the cave. A sprawling patch of vibrant grass and a ring of flowers around a single towering birch tree, standing out among the barren ground.

Floyd simply grimaced a bit in concern as he eyed the tree, before the three made their way back to the tank, to head back to Walkerville. They had a long day ahead of them. And for Hector, another long week.

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5049 on: September 06, 2018, 11:55:05 pm »
Vikaar smiled to himself. Finally his opponent was weakened. HE WAS NEARLY DEAD! It was time to strike even if he was bonded to another soul. But no, he couldn’t do it himself. He unfortunately had matters that would require attention.

Snapping his fingers he found himself walking into a bar. The two men behind him jumped back surprised at his sudden appearance but he ignored them. Sitting down and ordering a drink he slid a golden coin onto the counter as he’d been told was simply what spirits did here.

Sipping his drink he started planning how to get rid of that damn spirit. He couldn’t do it today. Maybe in a few days he could arrange to have some people who would have a vendetta against Grey to take care of him.

Elsewhere Isaac woke up from a nap to find a white raven pecking at some food he’d not finished before falling asleep. Standing up he listened to the bird explain what had happened with Liam in the woods. Once they had finished that conversation Isaac found himself standing in front of the building sipping coffee. Looking at the bird out of the corner of his eye he said “Well since that’s taken care of word of warning for ya. If you ever hurt my daughter I will pluck you and cook you like a chicken.”

It nodded to that as the pair walked around walkerville to see what was going on.

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5050 on: September 07, 2018, 09:15:39 am »
"What did you do to him!? You monster! What did you do!"

The voice came drifting across the inky blackness of the dark sea to which Brynna found herself floundering. A tenebrious ocean of bitter tears she visited nightly to flounder in memories that emerged at night before sinking beneath the stygian waves like ghost ships under the light of dawn. This was the sea of agony and long had it haunted Brynna's dreams, bringing her closer to the truth than Astor had ever promised. All she had forgotten was revealed here before being ripped away from her broken mind by whatever dark god ruled this world of tears and secret things that sometimes rose to the surface.

"Liar! Where is my baby! You bastard son of a bitch! I'll fix you! Damn right I'll fix you for what you did!"

There were monsters here, chitinous black things with tendrils and claws that swirled about in the lower depths, dark secrets of the mind. Dark truths that never saw the waking world. They bit and ate away at the edges of her sanity, the dire truths of who and what and where and why. The book had the answers, the book could hold them. It held all truths, it... Was gone. The stable foundation on which she floated in the tumultuous sea was gone and she was sinking. Sinking down and down into a sea of her own making, down to depths where strange idiot creatures dwelled and fed on the scraps that tumbled into their domain. Down and down and...


Brynna shot up from a nightmare she could not remember, and into a world of light and life.

"Where the fuck..."

Then it hit her, what she'd been up to that morning. An attempt to skrye an answer to a question, and an attempt to summon something. The skrye had failed, but the summoning had not. She had made a sacrifice and brought forth... Something. She'd left it bound it in a ring of blood in the motor pool at the- The refugee center... was she seen? She couldn't recall. The break had been especially bad this time and took with it many of her memories of the previous night. She could remember that Kringle was dying, and that she'd felt suddenly very insecure. She'd summoned whatever it was she had summoned to protect her from the Canadians. Only, it wasn't with her now. Nor for that matter were her clothes, save for the bra covering a part of her modesty that she frankly cared little if anyone saw. More important than her clothes though, was the book. The book of hates was missing and that sent Brynna into a cold sweat. The book was gone, her book of answers. She had been robbed as she slept. No, not slept, passed out. But they hadn't killed her. They'd seen her robes and the signet she carried and not killed her, which meant... They weren't from these parts? They didn't know the significance of her robe and signet, otherwise she'd be dead. She checked her unlovely body of scar tissue for wounds beyond those she had inflicted upon herself and found none. Brynna Knight, Bishop of God's Army, was entirely unharmed.

Except that wasn't true. Her book was gone. In the right hands it could vestow power that would make the thief quail in horror when she caught up with him and used it on them. Gods, would it just. She just needed to find them, and to that end she had something to go off of. In the moss nearby, adjacent her own, was a foot print. Small and shapely like a teenagers, and pointed towards the center. Brynna would go back, but she wasn't going to do it naked. A vile grin twitched the corner of her mouth, she was sure she'd find something along the way.


Horace held the door open a crack and looked to see if anyone was watching. No one was, this part of the center was empty for the time being except for the night shift guards sleeping off their shifts before getting up and doing it all again. Atomos slipped in without a sound, and Horace gently closed it behind her, but not before making certain that Atomos could get out on her own again later.

It was kind of strange, looking up at her room from so close to the floor. She'd only spent a year here, and yet it felt like home. Only from this angle, it felt odd. Alien. She made a circuit of the small room, struggling with her foot locker a little before moving on to explaining things to Cheena as she went. A table, a chair, a couple shelves on which rested some of Atomos's most prized possessions, the footlocker, and finally the bed. This  last, she hopped up onto she kneaded the covers with her paws. It was still made, and Atomos liked that, but the room was cold. Unlived in for too long.

"Do you think," Atomos asked, "I'll ever be normal again?"

"You are normal." Cheena said, "At least to me you are. Red said you just needed to figure out yourself who you are."

"I know who I am..." Atomos snipped.

"Do you?" Cheena snipped back. Atomos didn't respond at first, then replied "I don't know."

Atomos worked the covers with her nose until they were loose, then belly crawled under the blanket. She was a bit surprised by the smell. above, the bed had only smelled faintly of herself but underneath the blanket, her own scent had persisted. Preserved from the outside world by heavy cloth laid over it. Her own smell, her own bed, her own room, and her own home. Atomos was home. She curled into a tight little ball on the bed, and slept the first easy sleep she'd had in almost a month.


The refugee center looked bigger than Branches had imagined it and on top of that, there were people everywhere. It wasn't crowded, but it was certainly busier than the farm. The homunculus hugged it's blanket bindle close so it wouldn't drop it and what they saw as it's precious cargo. Branches wasn't here to gawk, as much as it wanted to, there was a job to do. Someone to find and questions that demanded answers. They had gone over them in their mind while they walked, and now that the destination was in sight they loomed in the homunculus's mind even larger. It was made to harass Sharlene but at the same time, Branches knew things that Illiana knew and what Illiana knew was that Branches stated purpose was a lie. Branches shouldn't have lived past the first week, and that was another thing it wanted an answer for.

Branches pondered it's long thoughts and kept on on a beeline for the center, unaware that unfriendly eyes had fallen upon it, and what waited for it when it arrived.
« Last Edit: September 07, 2018, 11:36:24 pm by saltmummy626 »
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5051 on: September 09, 2018, 12:49:11 am »
(( Written with Salt. ))

Helen hmmed a bit, mask activated as she regarded the slab, and the magic it radiated with. "The sigil at least shouldn't interact with it now. However..." she said, kneeling a bit. "We might want some form of proper protective seal to prevent it from causing any anomalies while purifying it. We've already run through all the salt in the mess hall, but what we've laid around the Migard could be worked into that."

She then looked through the few dried herbs she had on hand. "Otherwise we might want...any sort of verbena we can get our hands on, or white cedar branches perhaps." she suggested, before making a gesture. Through Daniel's own mask he could see the aura she gave off, one that permeated the both of them, seeming to be fueled by the energy stored in her modified cross-and-hammer. A warding spell, the sort of seidr she was trained in.

Daniel traced the line of the crack running through the slab with a pencil and noted the way the wood seemed to darken. He had encountered one such stone before, but hadn't actually seen it. Catnip had seen it, and it had nearly killed her. The memory served to punctuate the danger the relic represented.

"Verbana, white cedar, yes. As it happens, my wife has a few sprigs of the latter in her trunk but perhaps not enough. Otherwise I think it may be best to simply smash it apart. This crack is exhibiting effects in excess of what I'd believe possible. Like radioactive material trapped in a tungsten box."

"The demon core." Catalina said off hand, remembering a case she'd read about while wiling away the hours in the vault. A sphere of plutonium that had, due to a critical mistake on the part of the scientists involved, gone super critical and killed the researchers.

"Exactly." Daniel said, unfastening the mount and unscrewing a pair of brackets holding the slab in place, "the first thing we should do is separate the halves."

Helen watched cautiously, regarding the slab with caution. "If that isn't enough that I can at least shore up the salt laid out, a bit." she suggested, retrieving the few candles she brought with her. She placed them at several points around the Midgard and the slab, where there were gaps in the trail of salt or thin spots, lighting them as she went.

"At a bare minimum this should keep the actual consequences of smashing it confined, otherwise it might affect everyone and everything in the room if it releases its energy too violently."

Daniel stepped back from his work and surveyed the Midgard with his mask. He and Helen were pleased to see that the aura of the slab had "calmed" somewhat now that the broken pieces were separated.

"This is turning out to be more routine than I at first believed it would be sister."

Helen smiled a bit, carefully examining the pieces to discern any unusual properties that might still be apparent. "Indeed, though it's hardly broken down properly yet. Can't rest easy until then..."

Daniel looked at Helen's hammer again, considering the ramifications of simply smashing the slab. It was doable, he knew, but as for whether it was safe or not was a mystery. Both he and Helen were familiar at least in some small way with the arch slabs. One of a few relics the Cleansing Flame had deemed too dangerous to contain. The order did not go about it wantonly or recklessly though, and had kept exhaustive records of the slabs before destroying any they recovered. Helen's hammer would do the job but the records indicated a certain unpredictability in how the slabs would react to their destruction, and Daniel didn't like to imagine what would happen if you broke something with "time" in it's name.

"We could certainly break it up with the tools we have on hand, but all the same I think we can afford to be more careful than that. Sister, it shouldn't be too difficult to assemble a thaumaturgists trip hammer should it?"

Helen regarded the slab with an increasing suspicion and concern, giving a nod at that. "I suppose we could do exactly that...not something very commonly-made to be honest. Most of the people who pioneered that idea were among those who joined Shadows of Arcana. They did take rather well to less traditional methods, it seems." she remarked, before smiling under her mask. "If Ms. Anq- ...Sandell could request the parts we need and the required assistance..."

Catalina nodded at that, writing up a list of what they needed, and getting a few of the motor pool technicians to help set it up.

"In the meantime, why don't we get started on this killing?" Daniel said. In the meantime, a guard stepped in and saluted Catalina.

"Captain, we got her. She came striding in like how-do-you-do and started demanding to see someone named 'Illiana.' Blue robe, pale skin, God's Army markings on the robe. Gave us a bit of trouble though. She's strong and flighty. Tried to run and managed to pull a door off it's hinges." The man explained.

"How did you manage to catch her?" Catalina inquired, motioning for the mage hunters to follow her.

"Simple Captain. They picked her up. She screamed and hollered at us, but she went as weak as a child when we picked her up. Damnedest thing I've seen in awhile, considering all we've seen since the cataclysm."

Catalina nodded at that. "Good. Keep her restrained like that, we'll need to question her." she directed, leading the way. Helen however regarded the news with suspicion. "We're looking for someone from the Cult of Agony though. That description...that damned homunculus?"

Catalina hmmed at that. "If it's a God's Army robe then that also leaves another possible suspect. However, we'll see what we can discern through questioning her." With hat the three of them made their way to where their suspect was being held.

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5052 on: September 09, 2018, 08:22:37 am »
Branches was grabbed bodily, a guard under each arm, and tossed into one of the newer cells built to accommodate any new trouble makers that might come from the newcomers who had settled in and named the center. A little bit later, another guard arrived with instructions to keep branches from touching the ground, but it was a bit late for that. The bars of branches cell we're leaning against the opposite wall, a little bent but otherwise still serviceable. Trying to escape would just make things worse for itself, Branches knew. After the accident with the bars, the nervous guards had ordered the homunculus to sit up on the cot, and not move an inch from it. Apart from believing branches was female, they also seemed to think it was a kid too. The homunculus looked itself over, having discarded the troublesome robe to the corner of the cell before it had ripped out the bars, and judged. Helens jeans and one of Helens seldom worn t-shirts. Branches had to admit, the jeans had been made to fit a more feminine figure and the shirt was rather... Girly. There was also the fact that branches had left the clay on a bit long while experimenting with it's body, giving it a slight female shape.

"I didn't do anything wrong..." Branches whined out at the guards. The two men and woman simply glared back at it. "I know my rights, I want to speak to a lawyer..." It added sulkily.

That was a thought. Branches didn't have a lawyer, even though the homunculus itself had a law schools worth of inhereted judicial knowledge stashed away in the mind behind that big eye of theirs and could represent itself if it had to. The homunculus wondered if they would assign it a lawyer, and hoped that if they, Branches hoped it wasn't a kreck. But then it had an idea. Branches didn't need an assigned lawyer, and it didn't have to represent itself. Branches had questions and needed someone who knew an awful lot about law to get it out of this mess.

"I want to speak with my lawyer!" Branches demanded. It kicked it's feet childishly, making it's demand seem less like a serious request and more like a kids attempt to pretend to be an adult. "And this cot is too high off the floor, someone could fall out and break there-"

"Lawyer?" Cut in one of the guards, "yeah, good luck with that. The cen- New Paris isn't gonna go get some God's Army law slinger just to defend a murderer like you."

"Excuse me," said a purple haired, shark toothed, bespectacled woman in a business suit who strode in at that moment, "But I heard my client was being kept here?"

Branches hopped down off the cot and the guards were a bit surprised. They had all seen the strange lady around the center, issuing citations and sitting out on the roof watching the Canadians, but they hadnt expected her to be more than an eccentric survivor. She looked over the damages to the cell and took down a note in a small yellow legal pad, Branches knew what that was. Illiana's citation booklet. From which every paper, every summons, every ticket the Deus Ex issued had come. The tear in the rift had ceased causing Illiana trouble, as made apparent by the sudden appearance of a block of wood which carved itself into a rather striking example of classic personal business surface. A small clock, the kind which would normally adorn a mantle crawled out from between the grains of wood and constructed itself opposite a framed picture and metronome on the opposite corner. Illiana took a seat in the same inexplicable chair she had brought forth when she'd made her appearance at Sharlene's and took out a pair of pens and a stack of forms.

"I can't represent you." She said stiffly. Branches slumped back down onto the cot, confused. "It's a conflict of interest Branches, but now that you have my attention I suppose you want to ask some questions."

"Which you aren't going to answer..." Branches mumbled with defeat. Illiana cocked her head, a little surprised. She hadn't expected this kind of response from Branches who by all right, should have been on the edge of panic. Illiana had watched from a distance as Branches had learned and lived over the past two weeks, reveling in the Homunculus's little triumphs and worries. The thing was though, Illiana had watched from second hand. The hair, she determined, the hair was the issue. The hair had acted as the catalyst for Branches artificial soul while Sharlene's drop of blood had built everything else. Instead of knowing everything Branches did and experienced through what she'd believed would be a conduit between them, Illiana had been locked out. She knew what she knew about Branches because she knew what other people knew. Or believed they knew.

"You are a silly bean Branches, a silly little bean! No, I'm not going to answer them. Not all of them anyway, and not all of them right now. Some of your less pressing and important questions though, I can answer." Illiana said. She slid a slip of paper across the desk along with a pen and Branches took them. It signed on the line at the bottom in an oddly blocky script made up of switch backs and spirals, then tore it in half. One half Branches ate, and the other was folded and thrown out the window. Another surprise for Illiana, Branches knew just how to file the Deus Ex's arbitrary forms.

"Why do I exist?" Branches asked.

"Because I wanted you to, more I can't say until later. Just rest assured that I had a good reason, and it wasn't to harass Sharlene and steal books or clothes from Helen."

Branches noticed that the guards had stopped moving and cocked it's head towards them. Sound too had stopped. Time had been stopped for their benefit, but if Illiana wasn't going to answer Branches questions then what purpose would it serve? The homunculus decided to surprise Illiana again by cutting to the chase.

"Will I die?"

"Well, everything dies."

"No, the time limit you gave me. Will I die soon?"

Branches asked with enough bitterness to make Illiana stop and think for a moment. After a space, she said "yes."

"When?"

The desk slid into the floor along with the rest of Illiana's office. She stood sharply and would have smarted her knees badly if the desk were still there. The guards blinked with momentary confusion

"Look at the time, I have to be going now. Listen sweety and listen good. What you do next and how you do it matters a great deal as to how soon. If you do everything just right, you may even come out of this entirely unharmed." She told Branches, then turned to the guards and informed them, "My client would like to plead not guilty, but I must regret to inform you that said client will be representing itself in the coming trial. I trust Ms. Sandell will adhere to the law in this matter."
I'm really just a sexy skeleton in a suit.
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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5053 on: September 09, 2018, 08:36:11 pm »
(( Branches stuff written with Salt, Horace stuff written with Salt and Wilson. ))

Catalina gave an irritated sigh at the scene before her as she led the way, one of the guards stopping and saluting as she entered. "Captain. Glad to see you. We still have her. Supposed to give her a trial, according to the woman claiming to represent her. Who then walked off..."

"In any case, we found a strange book in her possession, no sign of any weapons or other evidence though." the guard explained, one of the guards showing them the item they had set aside to examine, Helen and Daniel both reflexively tensing up at the sight of it.

Catalina facepalmed at that. "Oh God...let me guess." She was going to describe the eccentric woman that had been handing out citations,only for Helen to interrupt her. "Illiana." At that, the others looked over at the woman in the cloak and mask. "We may want to ask our suspect some questions first, then I'll explain." she said, stepping towards Branches. The way those eyeholes seemed to glow as the mask shifted, examining the homunculus, lent a certain menace to her gaze, not to mention unsettled the guards.

"What happened here?" Catalina said irritably looking at the bars leaning against the opposite wall. A guard explained what had happened while Daniel hesitantly took the book. It was by no means a modest thing, the cult that penned it having had a flair for the dramatic. He contemplated opening it, but decided right away that doing so would be a terrible idea. Instead, he activated his mask.

"It's authentic sister. You, homunculus, where did you get this?" He snapped, feeling a kind of anger overcoming him. In the sight of the mage hunters masks, the book seemed to drip with a deep red- black energy, tainting everything it touched with it's hateful power. Daniel dropped it surreptitiously back onto the desk where it had been sitting and rubbed a bit of salt into his hands. Branches aura was surprisingly clean of the books influence, suggesting it hadn't been in possession of it long.

"I found it in the woods..." Branches said, looking away. It hadn't expected Helen to be here. That was bad, Helen wanted to destroy Branches, and that wouldn't make for a fair trial. "She wants to kill me! Conflict of interest! I call conflict of interest!"

Helen in contrast had no interest whatsoever in handling that book, glancing at Daniel with concern as he handled it. She could tell through her mask that it was more dangerous than any other book she'd handled before. Once, most of her order considered To Master The Unknown the most dangerous book they knew of, but even it was a mundane book despite its content. This however was dangerous even without considering its writing.

"Found it? From who?" she said. Despite the seriousness in her voice, there was a bit less hatred in it, as she tried to calm herself. "Look. you stole this from someone, didn't you? That person is very dangerous...as much as I'd like to destroy you, especially if you're the one that killed that man, there's another person of interest here, isn't there?"

"I didn't kill nobody!" Branches shouted indignantly, "And I didn't steal nothing... Innocent! I'm innocent!" If Branches wanted to escape, Helen noticed, the homunculus could have. It's feet were grazing the floor. Daniel took the cot opposite Branches and lifted his mask.

"A homunculus? I wasn't aware they could even read. The book is very rare. I think you'll agree with me sister, the chances of simply 'finding' it in the woods is rather slim."

"I read just fine..." Branches huffed. Helen wasn't surprised, feral homunculi were notoriously difficult to reason with, but Helen thought of something that could give her an edge. She didn't have it on her, but that didn't mean she couldn't still use it's implication against Branches.

"You know, I have a little something back at the hall. I wouldn't take long to go back and get it. A certain little scroll that could make you tell the truth?" Helen suggested. Branches squirmed but didn't say anything. Using the scroll of command to subvert it's will would break Branches alright and that was disturbing to the creature who had only obtained a free will a couple weeks before.

"I didn't steal..." Branches whispered, "I didn't... I just...borrowed it..."

Helen nodded at that. "Borrowed it. But can you tell us from who? Because if you didn't kill them...well. The murderer left behind a sigil in blood. Not just the kind of blood magic that the Sanguine Order made commonplace, but a style that is effectively extinct. One that the book you...borrowed is linked to."

Catalina then got an idea, approaching Branches calmly. "Can you tell me when you came into possession of that book?"

"Earlier..." Branches mumbled, then sighed, "I'm gonna die anyway... I took it from a lady I found in the woods on my way here..."

A guard entered and stood patiently aside while the hunters and Catalina questioned the suspect. After a bit, he gave a little cough.

"What is it? Can't you see we're in the middle of an interrogation?" Catalina said irritably.

"Yes ma'am, I just thought you'd want to know. The Canadians are burning a pair of their trailers." He informed them. That was when they smelled it. Smoke. Not the smoke from the Walkerville smokers on the other side of the swamp but house smoke. Burning plastic and metal. "I believe," the guard added, "They are burning Kringle's body."

Catalina sighed a bit at that. "How much earlier would've been nice to know..." she grumbled, before looking to the guard. "I see. Send someone to check on them and confirm that they're alright." she said, before adding. "Additionally, ask them if they know of anyone known to wear a God's Army bishop robe and carry a rare...magic book. Fuck me, seven years cooped up in a place that stores anomalous artifacts and i still feel weird saying 'magic' like that."

Helen however looked back to Branches. "Look, we're not...going to hurt you unless it turns out you did this." she said, giving a resigned sigh. As much as she wanted to put the construct down given her experiences so far, she realized that she might have to tolerate her existence if it meant getting answers.

The guard nodded. "I think they are fine Captain, but as you say. I also thought though it was important to tell you that they are burning potential evidence."

"Wait, what? What evidence?"

"One of the trailers the Canadians are burning is the one this Bishop was traveling with them in." The guard clarified, gesturing at Branches and the robe the homunculus had stripped off and tossed into the corner.

"It's not mine." Branches scoffed, "what's a Bishop?"

"Oh for fucks sake..." Catalina said, facepalming. Almost instantly, Helen and Daniel perked up. "As much as I hate to actually defend her when she may well still have done something, she is no bishop. Nor even human, for that matter. The robe was most likely stolen as...wait. Helviti!" Helen said, trailing off before regaining her composure.

"Gods damnit, check on who is responsible for burning the trailer immediately. If this homunculus stol-" Branches promptly interjected. "Borrowed!" Cue a glare at the construct from under her mask. "...borrowed both items from the same person, that means the Canadians have been traveling with a murderous cultist in their employ."

Catalina nodded at that, looking to the guards. "Keep an eye on her, I'll see to this..." she said, turning to leave with the guard that had interrupted them. Helen meanwhile sighed at that. "I swear...God's Army is idiotic enough, I've encountered a former sanguinist in their employ before, so having a member of Cult of Agony among their ranks is no surprise. But that these people would make the same mistake of trusting someone like that...it's better off burned."



Horace sat at Atomos small table keeping watch. Not that he needed to, but it was a moment of relative silence in a safe place in which he could think and confer with the watcher. It gave the suit of armor a chance to see what sort of person this Atomos was based on her possessions. Her table was clear and clean except for the very thinnest layer of dust that had collected in her absence. In contrast though, her shelf was lined with a chaotically sorted array of trinkets, small hunting trophies, and photographs. Horace picked up an unknown object and after a cursory observation, determined it to be a fang of some kind. Long and slightly curved like a snakes. The photos confused him momentarily because they were mostly of other people and their families.

Watcher. Do you know what can fix her? The watcher's focus had briefly strayed to one of the other people there in the center. Already so many disturbances to deal with. The continued presence of Melody in spite of his orders was one such annoyance, though at least she had made no attempt to try and sabotage the charm he placed to hide her aura, and that of Despair. "This is no mere transformative effect. It would require magic designed to break curses, for one. If she still had the spirit formerly bound with hers, it would be easier to alter and subvert the effect. Otherwise, it may take magic of a divine nature, specialized in such effects." the watcher answered.

He was pulled from his observations by a sudden change in the atmosphere of the room. On the orderly bed under the covers where the tiny ball of Atomos had been, was a woman curled up and fast asleep. He could just make out the top of her head, blond hair and red furred ears.

Horace hmmed a bit at that, pondering the ramifications. That she had the potential to resist the curse meant she could likely do what she needed to do alone. She was out of danger, and he had a mission that grew more urgent the longer they delayed. He let her rest there, leaving the room for now. Instead, he decided to stop by and see what was available to trade for, before continuing on his way.

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Re: CDDA: Adventures in Cataclysm
« Reply #5054 on: September 10, 2018, 08:32:47 am »
Brynna glanced out across the field towards the growing blaze of the two trailers. Kringle was dead, the fires told her that much. They also told her how the Canadians would react to her return. She was "the enemy" after all, Kringle's unstable prisoner. They treated her with courtesy while he was around but now he was dead and they would show her no such treatment. For now, she spared only the barest of glances for the fire, waiting to see the black smoke that would surely rise out of the inferno of her trailer. The man underneath her squirmed a little, thinking Brynna was distracted enough to shake, and she stabbed him again with his own utility knife. He'd been lured away from the fields by Brynna, believing her to be a gorgeous woman coaxing him into the privacy of the woods for a trist only to find himself assaulted by a scarred madwoman upon removing his clothes. She twisted the knife, angling it so that it would carve a plug into his flesh, opening up the arteries in deep circular slice. She carved more of these little spiraling idiograms into his skin, taking perverse pleasure in the pain of another. In short order, her victim bled out. They always did.

"I can't fix you..." She groaned, lowering her face close to his rapidly cooling countenance. She looked up at the growing cloud of smoke through the trees and saw what she'd waited to see. The dimly outlineed lines of pulsing red in the smoke, invisible to all but the faithful and those with the gift of sight. She slipped into her victims clothes and set off again for the center, ready to take back what was hers.


After Horace left, Atomos stirred and looked around. Her body moved and her eyes saw, but it was not Atomos who moved it or saw with her eyes. Like Mikko before her, Cheena became more "awake" when Atomos was asleep and she wasn't about to miss this opportunity. It might be the last time she got the chance to explore with true freedom of movement.

She pushed the blanket away and marveled at the fingers. Atomos fingers, a little calloused but still somehow soft and delicate. The digits of a working woman. The clothes she was wearing felt hot and heavy, way too uncomfortable for Cheena under any circumstances but absolutely unbearable to sleep in. Especially the rucksack, how was a person supposed to live carrying something like that? Carefully, Cheena twisted in the bed until Atomos feet were off of it and touching the floor. The boots, how could Atomos stand that too? Cheena had yet to do much of anything and already she felt like being human must be a difficult life if they had to wear things like this all the time. She decided she would change that, at least for now. The rucksack, rifle, and jacket were dropped to the floor, and soon followed the light outer shirt Atomos had left New Bangor with. That was better, but not perfect. Cheena pushed away the blanket and wrestled for a long moment trying to figure out the belt on Atomos pants before giving up and moving to the boots.These she found easier to remove, simply tugging the strings the right way loosened them up enough that Cheena could slide them off with the assistance of the other foot.

Standing up was the next and most difficult challenge. At first she couldn't seem to get her balance. Two legs, Cheena marveled, was a lot harder than it looked. If she couldn't keep her balance and she fell, Atomos would surely wake up. She knew it instinctively, so she had to be careful. In the meantime, the puzzle of the belt was solved and then the button and zipper behind that. The reason for the strange discomfort regarding that particular article of clothing became very apparent as soon as Cheena stood and let the pants fall to the floor. Atomos had stuffed her tail into them before leaving New Bangor, and that was a shame. The fluffy appendage was one of the floofiest Cheena had ever seen. Soft and warm and such color. Why would Atomos ever want to hide such a fine brush?

Walking came next. She found it hard, but with a little help from a little nonsense song that drifted across Atomos mind, she managed it.

"Put one foot, in front of, the otheeer..." She whispered, taking another step away from the bed. She practiced moving around Atomos's room until she felt she'd got the hang of walking, then settled in in front of a mirror. The mirror was a little joy to her, something Cheena could examine herself in. Atomos's face, her teeth, her ears and hair. Her furless skin. Having no fur was strange. Atomos smooth white skin prickled out in gooseflesh, reacting to the cold air. Cheena looked her fill at the new body in which she found herself, then turned her attention to the things in Atomos's room. The mirror was a fascinating thing, but the rest of Atomos's things told Cheena more about the woman herself. A fang that Atomos memory told Cheena about her first adventure and triumph over a snake that had tried to eat her. Cheena had never seen a snake as big as the one in Atomos's memory, but if her memories weren't enough, the monstrous fang would be more than enough to prove that it had existed. The fang and the meat that Atomos had brought in. Those, and the long coat hanging from the hook on the door. Cheena ran a hand over the scales and enjoyed how it felt, how developed Atomos sense of touch was in leiu of hearing and smell. There were a few cans like those she and Atomos had broken open in the Footlocker under the bed. They felt so light and easy to move around. It was hard to believe so much food could fit into such a small thing, but then again, it wasn't so small. Cheena was just bigger.

She sifted through pictures and clothing, slowly beginning to see the appeal of the latter. Normal humans didn't have warm coats like foxes, so they had to make their own fancy coats out of other things. Cheena found that she liked the idea, especially after she'd eyed over some of Atomos's less often worn clothes.

When she was done exploring, she lay back on the bed and thought over what had happened since Atomos had come into her life. It made her sad, but at the same time Atomos was a promise of a new sort of life. A new adventure for Cheena. She gave the room another glance. She probably wouldn't have stayed awake had she not felt the change coming over Atomos when it did. What was it about this place that it allowed her friend to push off the curse laid on her? Cheena came to the conclusion that it must be because this was the one place where Atomos could be herself. Set aside her masks and just be "Jenny." Red and Mikko said she was experiencing a crisis of the self, looking for who she really was. The curse on her couldn't be lifted until she'd figured that out for herself. This room, this place, was a stones throw from that answer.

Cheena closed her eyes believing she was close to the answer Atomos sought, and drifted off to sleep.


Branches kicked it's feet disconsolately, occasionally kicking up a bit of concrete each swing. It was relieved, a little, that it didn't seem like it was going to be killed after all. At least not right away. Still, something felt off. The smoke smelled funny, and it wasn't the plastic or carpet or other burning things. Something IN the smoke felt off. Like a chemical fire or something someone knew would soon be out of hand. Catalina had only left one guard to keep an eye on the homunculus, a fact that the guard didn't fail to understand. The anxiety baked off of her like sweat and Branches didn't think she looked like she wasn't all too comfortable with the rifle in her hands. It didn't want to escape, but Branches didn't want to just sit around either.

"Excuse me?" Branches said. The guard jumped a little and Branches could see she was just falling apart, figuratively speaking. "I'm going outside ok? I'll be right back, I promise."

"N-no! You can't! You just stay in your cell, you're still under arrest!" The guard stuttered, lowering her gun at Branches. The threat would have held more weight if the guard had not at that moment engaged the magazine release and ejected most of her ammunition. "Er... T-there's still one in the chamber! Ju-just stay in your..."

"It's not much of a jail if it doesn't have bars on the cells and the guards don't have bullets in their guns. I swear, I'll be right back!" Branches said casually stepping foot outside it's cell. The homunculus was feeling mischievous again, but tempered it's need to do something it thought would be funny with purpose. The gurad followed it around the room with the barrel of her gun but her conviction, if it had ever existed in the first place, was gone. Branches picked up the book off the desk and left, leaving the guard to slump back into a chair and wonder if she was really cut out for the job.
« Last Edit: September 10, 2018, 06:33:32 pm by saltmummy626 »
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