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Messages - YOLF

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1351
Rafalia

This was why she kept coming back. This was precisely why she had lost her heart. The promise to do what was absolutely beyond the means of rationality, even should it doom you.

She laughed and took his hand, looking into his crimson eyes with an expectant void sprinkled with falling lights. "I might destroy, you know. And if you succeed, I'll be tempted to kill you.""

1352
Longinus

Only years of inadequacy prevented him from wincing as he took the man's hand. There was nothing he could say in response to that which was not crushed in his throat, but still the words bothered him. It was by his hand which the Son of God found death, but Longinus was not the one who had condemned him or strung him up to endure punishment and shame.

He had still commanded the men who watched it and shirked his duties in the face of Jesus's resilience. He had done nothing to stop the crucifixion, and realized the sanctity of the man who had been judged only as he left the earth. Most likely, it had been his destiny to be the holder of that sin and the proclaimer of that truth for the life he lived until then. But the weight of his role was not an excuse, and neither forgiveness nor veneration could make him forget.

Longinus was certain now this hero was a Christian holy man, and a great one at that. The knowledge distilled into him made it clear exactly how much. Told by the awareness of the modern world given to Servants that his clothes matched the official regalia of the Pope, the highest leader of the Catholic Church, the soldier was glad for the presence of Orpheus to temper the air between them.

"Maybe there's an epicenter we can..."

Sensing the approach of another, he trailed off, letting the hand grasping his spear fall to his side where it could quickly be brought to bear.

"You're not in luck. We were just trying to figure that out ourselves."

His tone was neutral, but his hawkish eyes focused inquisitely on the newcomer.

1353
Methuselah

Methuselah looked like he was deeply absorbed in his own thoughts, trying to come up with an answer to Rafalia's question. His eyes closed, his serene expression turned into an ominous, mischievous smile.

"Hmm, I could start with eating your chips."

As soon as he said that, a pitch black snake-like tendril emerged from his shadow and went straight for the prize, fully intending on snatching a good couple of tasty snacks from poor innocent Rafalia's bag, bringing them back in the palm of the culprit's hand. And it did, oh dear lord it did, much to the dismay of the witnesses and children. Without a shred of mercy or compassion, he devoured them one by one much like a demon devours daughters and wives.

" *crunch* Forgive my callousness, but allow me to answer your question with another question. *munch* What would you consider an ideal peace?"

The dark god turned to face her with his moon pale face, closed eyes staring at her expectantly.

Rafalia

It was fine if he wanted to snag a few chips. She completely understood their appeal and would not condemn him for this audacious action! What was a picnic without sharing some food with your friends, even more so when you had more at your disposal? But the question he made made the excrucian pause to look at him, swallowing what she had in her mouth at once.

"Ideal peace?" She asked, tasting the words in her mouth before she licked her lips clean. "To know that every gesture on your path, no matter how foolish or shortsighted it might be, will have meaning. To live in a world where you can accomplish your dreams, no matter how impossible, and to rest at the end of your journey absolutely knowing it had worth, and that your resolve is rewarded always."

Her starlit eyes focused back on her sandwich, and she grabbed a handful of chips to put in her mouth. Rafalia's smile stretched delightfully at the taste.

1354
Longinus

If the lowly skeletons stayed he was going to end them all, but now that they were dispersing, there was no reason to pursue. He'd gone and aided Servants without even knowing their allegiance, so there were greater concerns at hand.

But for all his composure, even the nameless soldier's mouth went wide at the casual exposure of the young man's name. To reveal one's true identity as a Heroic Spirit was nothing less than to lay out your greatest strengths and weaknesses, presumably a challenge over the honor of your legend or the most reckless of taunts in an epic duel between anonymous icons. Even for the exceptional occasion, it was offputting. Or maybe the roman deserter was just old-fashioned? He'd been proven wrong about more important things before.

That train of thought dragged a dry chuckle out of him, and he rested the shaft of his spear over his shoulders in acceptance. "For one with scurrying wings for feet, you are quite bold," he said. "But maybe that is natural for the one who... walked into the Underworld with nothing but his harp to retrieve a loved one, if I recall."

The keeper of the holy spear then rested his gaze back on the other man's serious and hardened countenance, wondering to what degree he would return this clarity. To Lancer this was only a limited foray of prowess for an objective of uncertain good, but it tickled at the knowledge ingrained into him as a Servant. So at least for this meeting, he went with a compromise.

"I have no name, but to the world I am known by this spear. Call me Lancer or its appellation, whatever suits you."

1355
Leo I

Leo stood firm as the undead creatures approached him.  The head of the pack struck first, raising his sword above his head and swinging downward.  The priest stepped to the side the moment the blade came down and grabbed the monster by the head.  Meanwhile, two of the creatures sped up, attempting to get him while he was attacking the one in front.  In response, Leo finish ed his movement by ripping the first soldier's head off and with a whip like kick, sending the creature into the others. 

Then, after a quick windup, he threw the skull into the center of the crowd.  The head hit the undead in the center, causing its body to shatter into pieces with explosive force.  The pieces flew in every direction, striking the skeletons the remaining skeleton like bullets.  Those near the center of the formation were filled with holes, causing them to collapse.  Only two creatures remained.

Leo began walking forward, his eyes focused only on one of the creatures: the guardian.  "Cease this farce and face me," He announced to the creature.  His voice slowly rose in volume.  "I do not care much for killing the weak."

Longinus

Above the devastation and spreading darkness, a tattered shroud billowed like a candle in the dark. Its owner's harsh gaze surveyed the fields of chaos.

The soldier in red had no name, for he had abandoned it to be known only by his actions. He had no home, for he had forsaken the empire he had sworn to serve and nowhere he could bear to turn his face in friendship. He had received forgiveness, but he could not ever return his gratitude. He had no purpose, and so he wandered disconsolate but not lost until the end of his days.

His presence here was accident, and his coincidental accomplishments would not earn him what he desired most. But if he turned away from this strife, then shame would be reflected in his eyes and no repenting would make up for his failure of virtue.

Although he thought that, it almost seemed like a waste to get so worked up when the two that he could see from here looked capable enough to deal with the threats squirming on the ground. One of them, at least. But they were too soft.

Servant Lancer stepped back on the plain roof, winding up for a certain leap into danger, and with a deep breath he snapped forward like an arrow. In a second, his physical form covered dozens of meters and dissolved into the wind, carried towards the surviving foes by superhuman momentum. As he neared striking range, he assumed flesh and blood once more, landing behind the large surviving abominations with a restrained stomp and an old spear now in hand.

Revealed by unfailing eyes, the stained tip of his weapon was shot at the weakest point of the undead's armor, boring straight through it. The great body of the abomination shook at the impact, and as if it had suddenly remembered its age and unnatural being, and crumbled at once. Only dust was left.

He swung the gleaming edge of the speartip in the direction of the remaining enemy and turned his head to glimpse the other two Servants. Ordinarily, he should not have helped them, but their nature was irrelevant. It was evident to any that this was no more any Grail War as it ought to be and something foul infested the air.

"You are dignified, but your kindness is wasted on these husks. All there is left to do is return them to the earth." He said, gaze drawn to the man who bore a seeming of holiness upon his brow and expression.

1356
They had been walking for a while together through the city, looking for a good spot to grab a bite. Along the way they found a nice sandwich shop, so he used what little remained of his pathetic savings to buy one for each. With that, they set off until they found a park where they could lie down and relax.

The dark god and the faerie were sitting on the grass under a tree. His back leaned against the trunk while he unwrapped his buffalo chicken sandwich and took a healthy bite. The cool wind, the comfortable shade of the tree's foliage, the ducks swimming peacefully on the pond. For a moment, he felt at peace.

"What a beautiful Nexus. There is no better place for a picnic as this, wouldn't you agree?" He said, turning back to look at the little cheeky fairy.

Rafalia Tredecim

Refreshing wind, soft shade, happy animal life paddling along unaware of the brutalities of nature, a well stuffed turkey sandwich in her hands ready to eat... it was a very idyllic scene, but it was missing something. Not that it wasn't very comforting and nice, but a little part of her brain told her this wasn't right. It took her a moment before snapping her fingers and retrieving a pack of chips from her jacket, which she popped open swiftly.

Rafalia bit down on her main meal just as she popped a single chip into her mouth, letting the small salty delight mix with the pasty and filling taste of the meat, bread and other ingredients, and chewed thoroughly before gulping it down. The judgement of her tongue and stomach immediately deemed it delicious, but a lingering feeling over the emptiness in her chest told her this just wasn't the same.

Huh, déjà vu.

"If there's a best spot to have picnics around here, it's probably this," the rider answered, humming with pleasure at her meal. She swallowed another bit of her sandwich and reached for more chips. "So, what are you planning to do now? Priorities, plans?"

She cracked the snacks quietly between her teeth, looking at Methuselah expectantly.

1357
Methuselah winced and blinked with wide eyes while Rafalia suddenly cut his dark dome. C-crap, why did she have to make things harder instead of easier for him!? How cruel of her, this was beyond what his dark heart could bear. He covered his face and narrowed his eyes, the sun almost seemed to be brighter all of a sudden. But when he glanced back at her weapon, he looked intrigued for a second.

"Jeez, what a waste. You're not very good at listening to others, are you?" He poked her forehead again, this time a little tad bit annoyed, though still warm in a way. "Can you lend me that butter knife for a second? I would like to gaze upon my humble reflection. You wouldn't be so savage as to deny me even that, would you?"

Rafalia Tredecim

She shook her head lyrically, accompanied by a 'tut-tut-tut' while the knife spun between her fingers.

"I'm afraid this power is only for me," she sung, but reversed her grip, showing him the face of the blade, wicked and unreflective as if hazy obsidian had eaten into the metal. "Besides, it doesn't reflect very well."

The flames in the building adjacent to them crackled and hissed in protest at the efforts of water and determination to snuff them out, but began to falter, leaving even greater plumes of smoke decorating the sky. What had not dispersed of the crowd was cheering in anticipation.

1358
Name: Irene Maiden

Race: Vampire

Age: 127

Appearance:


Around 175 centimeters tall, typically she completes her ensemble with pants, combat boots, and a blazer-type jacket over her vest.


Physical Attributes

Strength: Incredible

Agility: Amazing

Constitution: Incredible

Other Abilities:

Baritsu: A self-defense and combat school that incorporates eastern martial arts techniques with principles of kickboxing, cane fighting and other western martial arts. An eclectic martial art created in England employing European wrestling alongside judo and jujitsu to control all ranges of close combat and its striking foundations to disturb the balance of opponents and subject their joints to strains that will leave them unable to resist. Irene is a seasoned expert of this art, which she learned from its pioneers.

Well-Traveled:
Globe-trotting adventures in her youth have enriched Irene's skills and knowledge. She's at least familiar in passing with piloting all kinds of modern vehicles, knows a number of languages, and picked up a slew of practices from different cultures and fields.

Regeneration: Vampires have incredible regenerative ability, allowing them to live with the loss of vital body parts and recover from most damage at great speed. Wounds that would be lethal to humans heal in a matter of seconds, and they can easily reattach severed limbs. Even when dealt extreme widespread damage and blown apart into meaty chunks, they can pull themselves back together and restore their flesh as fast as several minutes, although this is very energy consuming and will not completely undo the harm done. Given enough time, they might regrow full limbs outright, but they possess more efficient ways of replacing them.

Vampiric Essence: A substance produced in the blood of vampires akin to a highly reactive poison, which can turn corpses and living beings drained of blood into zombies, monstrous and physically powerful undead with a hunger for blood and violence. Vampires can spill this substance from their bodies at will or inject it into other beings directly.

The blood of vampires itself is dense with stolen life force, and injecting it into a body just drained of blood will instead create a new vampire.

Body Control: Vampires possess a very developed degree of control over their body functions and organs in addition to limited flesh-shaping abilities. While they cannot blatantly morph their bodies they can consciously manipulate them to a physiologically horrific extent, growing their nails into sharp claws, wielding their hair as a prehensile weapon, sprouting their blood vessels as vicious tendrils, and controlling severed or detached body parts. Able to ignore the loss of most organs, they can even survive as just a head and move around with their blood vessels.

They suck blood through their fingers by puncturing and digging into flesh, and can grab someone's carotid artery between their fingers without causing hemorrhage. If they permanently lose a limb (or their lower body, or even everything from the neck down) they can replace it with another's, which when attached gradually molds itself into the original part. Similarly, they can also meld the bodies of different creatures to create grotesque zombie chimeras.

Healing: Irene may heal others by directly transfusing her blood while mending open wounds and forcing them to close. Their bodies are repaired as though her vampire regeneration acted on them, allowing recovery from the most grievous of wounds. This power is a developed form of body control employing refined flesh-shaping and life force manipulation. They may also receive these benefits simply by ingesting her blood, though less efficiently.

Impaling Missile Arms: Employing explosive power through her blood vessels and willfully separating her flesh, Irene is able to shoot her arms (from the elbow down, typically) like cannonballs to impale or seize enemies even a hundred meters away. If she suffuses the Ripple into her arms she can infuse it into undead struck by the attack, though its range is greatly reduced by the action of the solar life energy on her own flesh.

Enhanced Senses: Vampires have heightened predatory senses, several times stronger than those of humans. They can see clearly in the dark, hear heartbeats from several yards away, and possess a hound-like sense of smell.

Hypnotism: Using their transfixing stare, skilled enough vampires can hypnotize those lacking sufficiently resilient minds, allowing them to mess with their recent memories and make them follow their commands. Irene is particularly skilled at manipulating animals in this manner.

The Ripple: A breathing technique that allows the practitioner to channel and wield life force resonant with the energy of the sun itself, which travels through the blood in the form of ripples and is projected through the extremities of the body.

Use of the Ripple can strengthen living beings and particularly objects to an incredible degree, and project enough force to split rock and wood, even leaving people or creatures unharmed as it passes through them. Users can produce powerful attractive or repulsive forces that allow them to do such things as stick to walls and walk on water. One of its primary uses is to heal wounds and various ailments, fixing bones or damaged organs and cleansing the body of harmful substances, and this same affinity makes it prodigiously effective against the likes of vampires and the undead. Blows and items infused with the Ripple are lethal against such creatures, leaving searing injuries from which the energy continues to spread.

Ripple energy is conducted especially well by liquids, but it can carry through clothing or metal and pass from one object to another, even through solid walls, and is best at strengthening organic matter, which can also store it. Using the Ripple requires one to constantly breathe in a controlled manner and their blood to be able to flow, so users can be weakened or prevented from using it entirely if their breathing is disrupted or they suffer from extensive blood loss.

Irene was a powerful master of this art who had refined the flexible basics to a point, but as a vampire she cannot use it without destroying herself in the process. However, if she is ever in dire need, she can channel the Ripple through a single limb and then sever it before the energy spreads.

She might still be able to teach it to another, employing a traditional technique which strikes the diaphragm to make the target breathe the correct way and use their own Ripple.




Equipment

Stone Mask: A damaged stone mask portraying a masculine face with fangs poking out of a slight smile and sunken sneering eyeholes, excavated from Aztec ruins in the middle of the 19th century. Kept by Irene as a memento, it possesses the power to transform the wearer into a vampire, and she used it on herself decades ago before breaking it to ensure no one else would be able to exploit it.

Satiporoja Scarf: A scarf woven from the stomachs of 30.000 beetles of a particular species native to Southeast Asia, making up a near-perfect Ripple energy conductor. In addition to its many uses for a practitioner, the material is supersensitive to motion and can act as a life detector.


Origin:

Irene Maiden was born in the peak of the Victorian Era of Britain, born to a small but wealthy family who had their fortune localized in the Bristol area. Irene spent her early childhood in those parts, attended to by a busy mother in the wake of her traveling father and waiting for him to return by sea. With the flowering of their legacy, they eventually moved to the greater London area. Her father was a member of the Argonaut's Club, a society of explorers, adventurers and extraordinary scholars which rebuffed discrimination in its recruitment. More taken with boyish dalliances than ladylike pursuits and enraptured by the tales of his fellows, she became involved in their meetings, and later joined their membership.

It was at this time that she joined her father in hobbies and occupation and he began to teach her the ways of the esoteric technique he had learned during his time in distant Tibet. She would not have need of it until years later, when a murder in Paris accompanied by the theft of a relic set them both and others in hot pursuit of the culprit through Europe and Asia. It was during this journey that Irene faced her first zombie and her mentor saw himself forced to pass on the secrets of the Ripple.

At a high cost, they put an end to the threat which had appeared in front them this time, but it was not the last they would see of the problems created by the stolen Stone Mask. Irene continued to learn the Ripple from her father as they tracked down artifacts in Casablanca before the remnants of an eerie cult; the tribulation that ensued led them through Africa in competition with French agents pursuing a track of clues left by Napoleon himself. It was at the end of this adventure that they learned the stone mask had resurfaced in France.

Irene's father would lose his life in their endeavor to neutralize the artifact once and for all, with his daughter vowing to carry on his ideals. Knowing the mask was not a unique piece, rather than destroy it they decided to take it in for study at the Argonaut's Club to develop countermeasures against the undead spawns of this ancient artifice, but at the dawn of the 20th century the society diminished and by the end of World War I, it had dissolved entirely. In the following years the Maiden family moved to the United States where they invested in the industry, and after putting her accounts in order Irene left for over a decade to study with the Tibetan Ripple masters.
Upon returning, she continued her adventurous activities and participated in archeological expeditions to Mexico, where the stone mask was supposed to have originated, competing with groups such as the Speedwagon Foundation. It was in these times, when she looked for those who would inherit her mastery of the Ripple and use it for good, knowing wicked beings and goals might prey on people even after her death, that she began to hatch a plan.

When Irene had established a succession of Ripple users to pick up her torch and carry the art through, she committed the act of sacrifice she never thought she would: she gave her humanity to the Stone Mask, becoming an immortal vampire who had no need to fear time or natural death, and used this power to sustain her own resources and finance her goals.

By 1988 she was in the trail of a set of ancient arrowheads stolen from an archeological expedition, when a strange encounter sent her through time and space into the Nexus.


Weaknesses

Sunlight: Vampires are extremely vulnerable to sunlight. Being directly exposed to the sun will turn them to ash in an instant and vanquish them forever.

Hunger: Vampires must consume the blood of living creatures to sustain themselves. Their stolen life force is what fuels their long-term regeneration and monstrous powers, and in the event that they suffer extensive damage or are deeply weakened for some other reason, they may need to consume many people's worth of life to recover completely.

Brain: The brain is the one vital part of a vampire's body. They cannot heal damage to the brain as easily, and destroying or sufficiently damaging it will result in their effectively irrevocable death.

Likes: Traveling, cleanliness, tea, white wine, beating up crooks, chit chat,
Dislikes: Undead, immortals, waiting times, timidity, relic thieves

1359
Role Playing / Re: Fate/Grand Adventure [A Fate/Grand Order Lewd RP, OOC]
« on: February 14, 2017, 08:48:12 PM »
Spirit: Longinus
Class: Lancer

Gender: Male
Appearance:


Parameters
-- Strength: B
-- Endurance: B
-- Agility: B
-- Mana: C
-- Luck: C
-- Noble Phantasm: EX

Alignment: Neutral Good
Equipment: Lorica Segmentata

Class Skills
- Magic Resistance: B
Protection against magical effects which cancels all spells with a chant below three verses and makes it difficult to be affected even by High Thaumaturgy and Greater Rituals. Longinus, who came into conflict with pagan icons and practitioners after converting to Christianity, sports notable magic resistance, but it has no effect on the sacraments of the church.

Personal Skills
- Saint: A
The individual is acknowledged as a Saint, venerated as an especially holy person through deeds performed in their lifetime. At this rank, Longinus is able to surround himself with a holy shroud and recovers automatically from harm over time.

- Revelation: A
The ability to "hear the voice of the heavens" and instinctively discern the most optimal action to take at any given time. It functions as a sort of sixth sense in battle, but covers all matters related to the achievement of a goal. In Longinus's case, he is always able to see certain things and details that escape the notice of others which help him achieve his objectives.

- Protection of the Faith: B
A form of divine protection possessed by those who have sacrificed themselves for a religious view, born from personal faith rather than an external blessing. This absoluteness of body and soul aids in resisting physical, mental and spiritual interference. Because Longinus does not consider himself righteous, his rank is lower than it should be.

Noble Phantasm
-- Lancea Longini - The Spear of Destiny
-- Rank: EX
-- Type: Anti-Unit

The spear which pierced the side of Jesus Christ and confirmed his death. One of the most famed holy relics of Christianity. Having come into the roman centurion's hands as if guided by an invisible thread so he could realize Christ's divinity upon the declaration of his death, it represents the natural life allotted to every person by heaven and the idea of destiny.

An armament which inflicts the concept of mortality, removing the deathlessness of beings wounded by the spearhead and leaving injuries that can only be healed naturally. It causes damage proportional to the level of the victim's immortality and their rank of Divinity, proving more lethal the greater their inhuman power and creating a poison which scales indefinitely in effectiveness to consume the total extension of their existence.

1360
Rafalia Tredecim

She exhaled deeply once her work was done. Not so much dark and terrible god anymore, but still handsome. It was of no consequence! The true poise of a divinity lay in their actions, and Methuselah could certainly throw down with the best... well, when he wasn't stammering.

"You look fine! Very presentable, so," Rafalia answered, producing a blackened knife with a flourish of her hand. Her eyes were perfectly adapted to the darkness and trained on his features, but her recognition was not the point of this. "Quit hiding your makeover!"

And with a gleaming arc, her blade devoured the dome of shadow he had raised like an inferno to a paper curtain.

1361
Rafalia Tredecim

She took the finger flick in stride with a light-hearted hum. Dorky and unspeakably dramatic inside he might have been, Methuselah had a good eye on him. And a good spirit. He was different, but she still wanted to see what he would do for the things that mattered to him. Perhaps she could do this little thing for him.

"Any request within reason? I'll hold you on to those words," she cooed. Concessions were fine. Faeries and excrucians were experts at stretching what was acceptable to suit themselves. "One thing, though."

Her hand shot up, catching his skull in an iron grip.

"I do enjoy some punishment, but I don't recall being your follower!" Rafalia complained, her voice not carrying anything like a threat and yet rebuffing him like he had just pet a violent dragon. "Now hold still."

Her other gloved hand rested on a coal-black cheek like cotton, and as it pulled back and slid over his face, the excrucian's fingers left behind pinkish skin. The Outside drew itself to them, fabricating a kenning of mortal life that spread over Methuselah like paint.

1362
Methuselah

Methuselah frowned. He really had no wish of having to deal with his, no, his retroposition's negligence. That aside, having to explain it would be more embarrassing. If there was a way to draw less attention to him, he would be mad not to take it. After all, even if his shadow shifted, he was still himself. His wish to sleep in a peaceful dream did not change.

Heh, how frustrating, how embarassing! Having to deal with all of these mundane problems was quite frustrating, but he supposed it was part of the package called mundane life.

"W-why would that be necessary? Hmph! Call it cowardly, but I would rather just wipe the slate clean. Besides, why should I pay for the mistakes of my past self, eh?"

Rafalia Tredecim

Well that was a perspective on his reincarnation, but existential questions aside Methuselah didn't seem to be taking this very well. "Ho-humm, but it's irresponsible all the same to not go in like a warrior and lay down your abandonement of the responsibility, yeah?"

Her mischievous smile stretched mercilessly for the dark avatar before she continued, her steps dancing around him and casting flickering shadows in the light of the conflagration, numb to the social bewilderment that surrounded them. "And you remember your past actions as your own, even if they were from another lifetime, do you not? You are the only target for the continuation of their consequences."

1363
Methuselah
But once he arrived before the building he was all to accustomed to living under, he realized that his resolve hadn't been the only thing that burned. He stared, along with the horse, his companion, and the dozens of horror struck people looking up at the fiery apartment.

If he had the biological abilities to do so, there would be nothing but cold sweat dripping down his face. His body trembled, his voice shook, but luckily they were far too behind to be noticed by the distracted crowd.

"Aah...alright, I see. I s-see, let's keep calm. Just keep cool and be logical about this, Methuselah. T-t-they say that s-some doctors can change people's f-faces. That's right, r-right? All I need to do is hide and change name... it's fine that way, right? Yes, r-right?"

Rafalia Tredecim

The faerie sucked in air through her teeth, riding out a wince at the vivid crimson and grey clouds that had the building of Methuselah's attention as their epicenter. His anxious trembling on her by comparison dainty lap told her this wasn't exactly what he was hoping to find, although undoubtedly the original target of his haste.

"I hope you have good insurance, because that fire isn't exactly small," Rafalia said, her voice a whisper amid a panicking crowd and the blaring of approaching sirens. Her horse neighed in agreement. "Oh! I could change your face if you want. A little bit. But wouldn't you have to report to your police superiors anyways?"

1364
Methuselah

"It's too late, how could I have forgotten..."

A bead of sweat, if it could be called that even, rolled down his face. With a furious, desperate but determined face, he grabbed Rafalia's hand and floated away like the wind. He had paid 12$ for an entire package, he wasn't going to let it all go to waste!

For you see, before leaving, the foolish God had put the hot pockets in the oven... only to forget to turn it off!

Rafalia Tredecim

"Whoa, easy there!" The fae huntress beckoned, letting herself be taken by the hasty avatar of darkness on a merry trip to rush out of the hospital. Practically floating along with the erratic but determined missile seeking his freedom and whatever purpose he had taken from his ineffable mind. And apologetically waving to the hospital employees they nearly ran over.

The yelping and outraged screeching of suprised nurses and disturbed patietnts was left behind their unrelenting path. "Sorry, but it seems important!" Rafalia said, pondering their momentum and skipping along to match Methuselah's pace. "You know, I have a mount if you think it'll help."

1365
Rafalia Tredecim

She stared at the same person, perhaps with the same soul, but there was little wondering that something had changed. It was difficult to tell if it was widely or deeply, but seldom were the minds of gods mapped so easily that two dimensions were a satisfactory plane of reference.

"Hey, your style works. But yyyyyyy-up, you were strongly cliché just now," Rafalia quipped, rolling her eyes in amusement. It took her smile a second to settle before she looked at where the concern dimming his expression was pointed. "What's wrong, something up with the time?"

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