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Cross Effects: Rebirth (2.0) The RP

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Knick:

--- Quote from: Umbra of Chaos on May 25, 2014, 09:27:34 PM ---"I am Grigori. It is a pleasure." He sighed.
--- End quote ---

‘So his name is Grigo….’ Zolgen's thought was cut off, as the man in front of him changed into a woman. A rather beautiful one at that. ‘ohhh, that is interesting, massive change in physical structure, water element based perhaps? No the amount of energy that would be required would be immense, illusions then?’


--- Quote ---"It was a waste of mana, but I was not focusing much on the cost of a spell as weak as that. I am interested in these insects of yours though, Zolgen Makiri."

A snap of her finger bound a beetle in tendrils of shadow. "What purpose could these creatures possibly serve?
--- End quote ---

‘Interested in my familiars is she? Rather peculiar she cannot recognize them as such’, Zolgen watched contemplating his how he could approach this. ‘Well a brief answer on something so simple is not an issue.'

“They are simply my eyes and ears my lady, as all familiars are.” Stretching out his arm one of his hornets landed on his finger, its needle coated with a red liquid of some kind. “However some have more esoteric uses.” The insect then once again flew into the air, hovering slightly behind him with a light buzz, “But enough about something so trivial. I am interested in why you would do something like hiding your true gender. Maintaining an illusion for such of purpose seems like a waste.”

The Man With All The Cute Boats:
Ragna woke up sweaty, uncomfortable and in an unfamiliar place. His eyes took a moment to blink until they shot open completely.

"Jin! Noel!," He shouted, getting up as fast as he could. Last he remembered, the Imperator had driven him berserk with those two around. The rest was nothingness, a blur.

He looked around, an alley. He ran out, into a completely unfamiliar setting. If he looked to his right, there was a city and a massive tower. To his left, a few buildings going into a bay, and in the middle of it a huge statue of a robed woman holding up a torch.

"What... the hell? Where is this?" He exclaimed loudly. "I don't have time for this shit, I need to, ugh..."

Ragna holds his head for a moment, his earlier berserk state having completely drained him.

"Damn it. I guess, I should get some food, get my strength back. Then... I'll figure things out."

With this Ragna walks towards the city, away from the statue, in search of a restaurant.

Kurogami:
After a while walking Minato stumbled upon an unfortunate victim of a werewolf attack.

Face nearly gone, but the wounds themselves are minor, the bleeding has already stopped, it is the all but certain infection that will end this pour soul.

Minato switches to Messiah and kneels down placing his hands near the spots where the damage is greatest.

White light pours out of his hands and the wounds close, leaving no trace.

After he has finished, he stands and begins to walk away before stopping.

Reaching into his pocket, Minato pulls out a small crystal that he throws at the person he just healed; Upon impact the jewel burst apart wrapping the person in light before vanishing, taking the person with it.

Isn't it wasteful to use up a traesto gem for one person?

The nearest hospital is forty Kilometers away, would you rather have carried them all the way?

Good point.

Mooncake:
The plants in the bookstore were agitated. Their leaves were frantically rustling in the still air, filling the abandoned store with a sound like a multitude of pages turning. They climbed the walls, growing from cracks in the floorboards and spaces where the floor had been removed entirely, leaving black, earthy soil. They wrapped around the shelves and ran across the floor, mingling with the many trees that had grown there.

The bookstore store was old, older than a lot of things in the city, and the person who lived inside of it was older still. Books mingled freely with the plants, creating dense stacks and haphazard piles. The musk of pages and leather made a strange combination with the abnormally large plants that grew from every angle, something that the resident found to his liking.

Pale skin slowly made it's way out of one, hollow pile, a hand randomly grasping at the floor in search of food. Not finding any apples in range (a favorite) the hand threw itself into the air in an expression of disgust, before retreating back into the pile. The stack of books crumpled in on itself as the sole resident of the old bookstore emerged, his pale features twisted into a scowl.

He would have to go and find some more apple seeds to plant, which required even more water. To some people, this would be the equivalent of simple grocery shopping, but for an existence like the resident, who disliked interaction with humans, the supernatural, or the city itself, going outside was a chore. A slight blur was all that accompanied his sudden movement to the door that creaked open with a touch.

Still scowling, he closed the door behind him and walked forward, fully intending to take to the roofs and go take seeds from a convenient flower store. He made it five steps before a black, 1967 RS SS Camaro roared into life right behind him. Freezing like a deer in it's headlights, his head whipped around at speeds fast enough to blur his entire form.

Arch-Magos Winter:
Some good old fashioned rock n' roll came in from over the radio of the old Firebird Trans Am, the stereo system refurbished and retouched along with the classic fire red paint job, and of course, the firebird itself emblazoned upon the hood. Lawrence, not for the first time, felt a serious sense of pride in everything he'd done with the old car. Finding replacement doors and patching up the bullet damage had been an utter bitch, not to mention all his blood stains he'd had to scrub out. But now, it was truly his... or more accurately 'theirs.'

This place is strange. I can smell him nearby, though. Trying to hide from us. From those who hunt him.

The Drivers voice was its usual self, a mix of a bloody gurgle and the staccato cracks of a gun. He'd dragged Law back from death, offered him a deal - host me, and you'll be able to get your revenge. So far, this deal had worked out well, for both parties.

'Good.'


Law glanced at the .45 Auto in the passenger seat, taking a hand off the wheel to grab it, pulling the hammer back as he pulled into an alley, the muscle car rolling to a hault. Something that looked like the Eiffel tower, except painted a bunch of garish colors, loomed over the building in front of the alley his prey had escaped to. There was no escape now. Not for this son of a bitch. He'd been as good as dead the moment the Driver had dragged Lawrence back into the world of the living. It was time for some of the dish best served cold, with a side of hot lead: Revenge. Lawrence walked down the alley, pistol held at his side, his heart beating faster and faster as adrenaline kicked in. He was nearby. That son of a bitch was nearby. And he was going to pay.

Law didn't even flinch as a bullet flew past his head as his quarry sprinted out of from behind a dumpster, desperately firing at the man he'd killed almost a year ago. Not a single bullet touched the Sin-Eater or the car behind him, as Lawrence raised his pistol, took aim, and fired. The man's left kneecap exploded in a shower of bone fragments and blood, causing him to collapse to the ground. The gangster started crawling as fast as he could away, not even screaming in pain, fear driving him to move forward, to get away from the monster behind him. Law didn't even have to walk fast to catch up to him, kicking away the pistol the man had dropped as he did. Law's foot smashed into the gangsters back, forcing him to a halt.

"Please... god, no, I don't want to die...."

The man was begging him now, for mercy.

Do you think he deserves such a gift from us?

'No.'

"Neither did I," Law said, and pulled the trigger a second time. The heavy .45 caliber round did it's dirty work , blood starting to pool under the gangster's head, as Law lowered the hammer on the Automatic. It was over. Finally, this long, bloody task of revenge had been completed. The last of his murderers were dead, by his own hand.

The question was what to do afterwards.

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