A Trillion Stars (Jumpchain/Stellaris)

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Hangover Cure, Please
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    • "Why the fuck do I always get lost when I go drinkin?" I ask to no one in particular as I stumble across the moonlit hallways. Blinking, I stare out the window and realize that there's nothing but sand as far as the eye can see. Sandier than Anakin's bastard ass planet.

    Hic.

    Memories came back faster this time around than I thought, was barely out on my first job as a merc when most of them came back in a wave while I was busy trying not get jabbed full of arrows, dragging the only other survivor of my little band to safety. He'd decided to retire, and I got stuck wandering alone.

    Again. Not the first time in this life, and certainly not in all the ones leading up to this one.

    So, guess who decided to go out and get shitfaced!

    Though, I could have sworn that it had been daylight when the drinkin started, and it was definitely a lot colder than this place. As in, it was snowing and I was surrounded by rowdy meatheads. I didn't mind. I loved meatheads.

    They tended to be straightforward and more likely to stab in the crotch than in the back. At least I might be able to dodge when they came at my front than at the back. More likely to get up the next mornin that way.


    Why did I get the feeling I was on the other side of the continent? Eh, well. No need to worry about it now. Wandering through the dreary gloomy halls, diagrams and intricate patterns of a large black dragon swallowing the world, I realized I'd probably dived into something more worrisome than I expected.

    But I was drunk, so what did I care?

    "Halt!" A woman's voice called out, and every barren torch lights up in purple flames. Turning around with a slight stumble in my steps, I find a very scantily clad woman with pink hair of all things, lot of black spiky jewelry, and purple tattoos on her face and her mostly exposed chest.

    Guess I was somehow in the red light district of wherever the hell I am.

    "Now, just who are you?" She purrs out with a smile that didn't reach her eyes as she sauntered over, her high heels clicking along the stone floor with each step. The way that she swung her hips around, the light leaving just enough shadows, told me that she's done this before. There was a practiced ease with each step, a certainty that I had seen many times before in other lives.

    So, I had my response ready. "Sorry ma'am, but I think I'm just a bit too drunk to partake in anything that you're offerin. Don't want to puke on you in the middle of the deed."

    She stops, staring at me as if I had sprouted wings and grown a pigs tail while dancing like a ballerina, mouth hung wide open. Guess she didn't have many customers deny her companionship for the night.

    "What did you just say!?" I wasn't expecting the venom in her voice, or the way that she sneered at me.

    "I'm flattered, really, I just don't think that I'm up for any form of companionship right now. Sides, I don't really have any money on me." Typical of drunk me really. Dumbass always managed to lose all of his money by the time my brain came back to me.

    I shiver as a particularly cold wind blows through, realizing that the heavy coat I'd been wearing up in Regna Ferox was no longer around my shoulders. I still had the far thinner one, and I start to grip it tighter to myself when I realize that the woman in front of me was wearing even less than I was.

    I shrug the jacket off and place it around her shoulders, the woman flinching away from me and bringing up a hand full of dark magic towards my face as the coat hangs from her shoulders.

    "I ain't gonna hurt ya, promise. Ya just seem kinda cold wearing only that in the night." I tell her honestly. Blinking, I can feel the haziness around my mine start to disappear, and realize that now is probably the time to figure out where the hell I ended up, before the hangover settled in.

    Before I could turn around, she darts at me, a dagger in one hand while the other launches the ball of darkness that I barely manage to dodge with a roll, the last of my drunkenness leaving me, replaced by a damned headache I could do without.

    "I am going to kill you!" She shrieked as she stabbed at me again.

    "I take it you don't get denied much." I replied as she shrieked while I danced around her, bringing out metal wires that I wrap around her wrists after I manage to slap the dagger in her hands to the floor.

    "Who are you damned insolent rat!?" Her voice echoed across the empty halls, and I could make out the calls of distant shouts and echoing footsteps at the edges of my hearing. "One of the oh so wonderful dragons little spies sent here to investigate!?"

    I now realize that I probably stumbled on some kinda cult. Ritualistic markings on the wall, edgy jewelry, dark magic. I could even hear the entire facility waking up around us. Which meant that she was screaming as bait instead of just outrage.

    "Well little man!? Or has that 'gentleman' routine finally run dry!?" She asked, right as I take out some duct tape and wrap it around her mouth.

    Why did I have duct tape in my pocket?

    You know what, I don't think I want to know.

    "Sorry ma'am, but I don't think that the rest of your friends are going to be good company for me if they find us." A muffled shriek that was no doubt a death threat was my only response. "And I can't leave you here, cause the moment they find you, they'll know who to look for." Her eyes widen and she starts struggling even harder, trying to kick me her heels that might have been sharp enough to stab into me.

    I took those off as I threw her over my shoulder and booked it through the hallways, walking up the walls once I was outside and gazing out across the complex from the roof. Stone architecture that jutted higher than the sand surrounding it. A river nearby, with the ocean just a few leagues away. And there, at the nearest port, a small boat. Not quite a ship, more of a small two person thing that was perfect for me.

    Plus, it was less likely that someone would notice a small one leaving compared to one of the bigger ones. My uncooperative companion shrieks and hollers underneath her duct tape, limps thrashing uselessly against my body as I got ready to jump. "You might want to stop hitting me like a limp earthworm and hold on."

    Her shriek increased in pitch as I jumped into the air and threw a few chakra lines, finding purchase in the nearest building and pulling myself towards it, her muted shouts causing the headache to get even worse. First thing I was going to do when I got out of this was make myself a hangover cure.

    Hopefully everything would go well and I could leave her somewhere that she'd be able to return home from.     ​



    "Bullshit." I growled at Ghost as I held my head, the floating robot hovering past me to clean the gore of my exploded head off the walls and floor of my workshop. Melina was sitting in one of the nearby chairs, holding her head in her hands while she too groaned from the pain in her head. "If you can bring me back from the dead, then that means that you can cure a simple hangover."

    "I didn't say I couldn't, I said that it seemed like you're still hungover. There is a difference." Ghost smarmed back at me, bouncing up and down a few times in amusement.

    "I didn't even want to drink though! We were literally surrounded by people! They wouldn't leave us alone!" I almost yelled at him, but I lowered it down to a hiss when the spikes in my head decided to dance with each other, and Melina groaned even louder from her seat.

    "Be silent." She whispered. "Or else I shall make you so."

    I waved off her threat as Yazera came back with two glasses of water, both a greenish hue thanks to the herb that I'd cultivated a few days ago. One of the very first of the newest batch. It was still in it's beginning stages, but it was supposed to be what would help create real medicine in the colony, instead of us having to forage for whatever herbs grew out in the wild.

    The herb was meant to help with headaches and other symptoms of illness. Nothing too drastic such as life-threatening illness, but something that would be a step in the right direction. Too many of us had been lost to simple things that either didn't exist in this world, or were far too rare to go around.
    It was the closest thing to aspirin that we had on this planet. Huh, aspirin was a thing.

    Might have to figure out how to synthesize some of it. Chemistry wasn't truly my strong suit, but maybe with some work, I could throw in some of my biological specialization into it.

    Somehow, someway, I would make sure that I made a hangover cure, if only because I had a feeling that events like last night are more likely to happen now that we no longer have to worry about imminent invasions. If memory serves right, we weren't only at the one bar. Roland wanted to introduce the 'kid's' to the 'joy's of barhopping'.

    Then the running started, everything got blurry again, Veranda wandered away to become his inner tree again, and then I woke up hanging with threads of steel from a Walker arm that looked like I'd tried to patch together using metal wire, copper fillings, and I think that was duct tape instead of actual welding work.

    Ugh, that was going to be a pain.

    Thankfully, there was something new added to my arsenal. A new star glittering in my sky, accompanied with a number of smaller stars as well. Looking down at the bracelet, I noticed something new added to one of my hoops. A miniature golden hammer. It wasn't anything special, simply the same run-of-the-mill hammer that you thought of when you heard the word. Sleek rubber handle, one side a blunt instrument, the other a split end for ripping out nails.

    Then I looked over to the finagled pieces of metal and duct tape that tried their best to be something useful. And I could see the ways that they could not only be improved, but perfected to be something more than just simply an arm. I could make it a work of art.

    "I take it that you are seeing the same things I am?" Melina asked, face scrunched up in disgust as she downed the makeshift hangover cure, looking at the arm with the same intensity that I was.

    "It's more an outline than an actual idea." I responded back, already drawing up a few ideas on to make the arm operable, instead of rusting away the moment it moved.

    "Did I help with that last night?" Melina asked as she looked at her name carved into the bottom of the arm, the knife wok jagged and dodgy.

    "Maybe? I don't remember anything after climbing that building." It had been quite fun actually, the chase. Though that wasn't something that I would ever admit to.

    "Perhaps we believed that we were creating something more than just an arm?" She mused, walking closer towards the robotic appendage hanging from metal wires connected to the workshops ceiling. Metal wires that were also keeping the duct tape from bursting at all the work that the poor fabric was doing.

    Truly, duct tape was a miraculous invention that I am happy I found inside of the dojo. It had only been one roll, but it was enough to make more of it with the fabricators help.

    "Could I see those shards? The fire one's specifically." She asked.

    "Yes." I respond back, digging through one of cabinets where we kept any of the conceptual crystals stored away, tossing her one of the warm shards which she catches it with ease, climbing the walls until she sustains herself by the arm using chakra wires.

    Instead of inserting it into the arm, she takes off a plate from the rest of the arm, the sound of duct tape ripping digging into my soul as metal wires fall to the floor. Maybe I could salvage it later?

    Hopefully? I could dream right?

    With the plate in her hands, Melina takes the shard in her hands, eyes closed as she held it towards the plate of gray steel, and I feel the changes to the magic in the air. She was tapping into the power of the shard, much like I did to extract the energy out and use them as either power sources, or to conjure magic from them instead of tapping into my own reserves.

    Only, she wasn't using it as a battery, or as a focus to concentrate the essence of it. Instead, she was pulling that very same essence, and imbuing it into the steel plate. An idea that we'd both had before, but hadn't been able to properly apply without the crystal breaking in our hands.

    Until now that is. I watched, eyes wonderfully transfixed as the energy in the stone transitioned towards the metal slab, normal everyday steel turning into something much different.

    Energies coalesced and solidified within the metal, the shade of gray turning into the warm orange of a crackling flame.

    "What the hell did you just do?" I asked, all but jumping up to where she was at, using strings of blue to hang midair next to her as we inspected the changed metal.

    "I am not completely sure. Whatever it was that joined our sky, it improved what we already have. To a degree that might have been impossible beforehand." Turning the steel plate in hand, she takes a contemplative look on her face and tosses the metal away before she summons the glyphs of glowing orange, conjuring a spell of flames towards the flying steel.

    I barely had time to duck away out of sheer instinct instead of any actual danger of becoming a charred changeling. "DUST!" I shout out as the gout of flame hits the metal… and I watch as it dissipates.

    No, more than that, the metal seems to absorb the heat away from the flames, the temperature cooling around it forcing the flames to simply disappear. The plate doesn't become hotter, it doesn't change in any way that I can see. If anything, it seems to shine even brighter than before.

    "I do believe that I have outdone myself." She murmured, an accomplished smile on her face as she picks up the metal plate and turns it over in her hands.

    "Give me some form of warning next time you do that!" I shout at her while Ghost laughs behind us, the little bot taking some twisted form of enjoyment over my misfortune. At some point, all the life or death situations seemed to have twisted my oldest friend. The same could be said of me of course.

    "I do believe that I fired in a direction away from you." Was her simple response, golden eye keen with amusement as a smile tugged at her lips.

    "Fine then, next time I'm going to 'forget' to pick you up when you pass out drunk!" I pettily shout back, the heat in my voice just a bit exaggerated.

    "We both know that isn't likely to happen." She fired back, that smile on her face only wider now. "You're far more soft-hearted than that."

    "I beg to differ." I responded back, remembering some of those corrosive grenades and weapons that were being welded onto my next batch of walkers.

    They were little more than large bulky tanks, but they proved to be cheap and efficient to make. With some armament from the waves of beasts that were being thrown our way, it was the best option to go when those that wished to fight were still being trained.

    I did have further plans to advance them though. Make them more than just lumbering brutes meant to take hits and mow down waves of creatures.

    Only, now there was something else springing to my mind. Little ideas for improvement that I hadn't thought of before.

    Ideas, and the capability to make them come true when they were merely thoughts of imagination floating around in my head because I didn't have the time to get them done.

    It wasn't so anymore.

    I glance up at the ramshackle arm, minus one plate, and hum in thought, remembering the stash of crystals that had been collecting dust for weeks now.

    Glancing at Melina, I give her a small smile. An expression that I hope I would make more often.

    "Up for a little project?" I asked her.

    We had time before the sun rose, least another hour or so in real time, which meant almost five on this end.

    And I could get down ten hours of work in those five.

    It isn't more than the planning stages, along with some small experimentation with parts and materials, but it advanced us in our work farther than either of us thought would be possible.

    Even just drawing the blueprints that I made in my head, which Melina needed to know where I was going with certain ideas, happened far faster than either of us expected. Ghost was right next to us, providing his own input and additions to any calculations that I added onto the notes.

    Before I knew it, the entire page was littered with diagrams and notes in two different sets of handwriting. Scattered here and there in a chaotic mess was my meager tawdry chicken scratches, and in more organized blocks of flowing script was Melina's. The oddest thing wasn't the speed that they were written on, though that was added to the pile.

    No, it was that my writing improved the further down the page we worked on.

    Where before it was barely intelligible scrabble, now it was somehow readable to someone other than me or Melina. And that was only because she'd been forced to learn to read my atrocious handwriting to know what in the galaxy I was doing in my other notes.

    We'd end up going through four or five sheets before we finally arrived at the final design, the clock showing only three hours having passed in our arguments/spats/academic disagreements.

    The first thing that was noticeable for the next issue of mech was just how lean it was compared to the clunky walkers. Gone were the extra pieces of plating that I thought were needed, replaced by denser plates that were to be reinforced with whatever crystal would prove to be most beneficial. Perhaps simply a mythril shard, or one of Power?

    "I believe that attempting to imbue an entire construct is going to take more expertise than either of us have." Melina quietly said while helping me disassemble the monstrosity that was the robot arm.

    "True. We must also make sure to experiment with different shards and crystals before we can truly build this." I grunt out while we used our chakra strings, and a few clones, to lower the robot arm down onto our level, while making sure that it doesn't break down during its trip.

    Scrapping it for parts was as easy as tearing off the duct tape and wiring that held it together, each of us, the clones of Melina and I, to store them away for later use. The foundation was set for where to go forward with the next bot, the only question was, how to get there.

    Experimentation and time was the only cure for what came next. Seeing what crystals could be used for what, and more importantly, if they had the same effect during each process. Doing the same thing over and over again might be insanity, but when had change ever been sane?

    You had to be a little bit crazy to truly change the world.

    That, I knew better than most people would it seemed.

    I wonder how many previous world's believed me to be some sort of madman, and on what wavelengths?
    Laughing at the raging gravity demigod that turned himself, and his ridiculous horse, into a flaming meteor did not seem to be the acts of a normal man. No matter how many lives he'd lived before.

    Before I knew it, the work that we could get done was over, and on went to the experimental stages of testing, something that the clones could take over while the two of us moved on to get some modicum of sleep.

    Apparently, I needed to further tweak the painkiller herbs, because I could already feel my eyelids drooping far heavier than they should have. At least the pain of the hangover was gone.






    "Get up." I say as I kick Roland's wheezing form on the ground, the psionic man grunting to the blow to his leg, but not reacting any other way.

    "Can't. Brain hurts. Threw up all morning. Can't train." He gasped out, purple eyes closed as he tried his best to keep the nothing in his stomach from coming out.

    "And I don't care. I gave you some of the painkiller, not my fault if you drank far more than you're supposed to last night. You didn't have a bunch of people surrounding you, begging to have more drinks with you." Otherwise I would be having a much more pleasant morning.

    "I have to drink more than most people to feel a buzz! Not my fault if I tend to forget when to stop. Hurgh!" He doesn't finish his sentence before he begins to dry heave, the contents of his stomach long since run out.

    I kick him again. He could only groan in annoyance.

    "We made a deal when I gave you those chakra coils." I told him blandly, giving him a good kick every now and then. Let's see if he starts a fight the next time we go out together. "I give them to you and you become my guinea pig for experimentation on them, along with studying your psionic capabilities."

    "And where in that agreement comes with the abusive, asshole?" He retorted through his heaves.

    "It comes with my foot in your ass." I respond as I deliver another kick. This time he actually giggled. Fucking weirdo. "If I'm going to train anyone, it's going to be the way that delivers the best outcome out of them in the time that I have." Any less and I was just wasting both of our time.

    "In what life did you turn into a dictator from hell?" Roland whined as his dry heaving eased.

    "I think it's just something I picked up from my many years of bullshit." There was certainly that feeling of irritation and amusement at the back of my head any time that I taught.

    "Oh, so now you're an old man, huh?" Roland asked as he downed yet another glass of crushed herb painkiller. He made another gagging noise as he choked it down.

    "Certainly far older than you." At least I thought. Most of the memories were foggy at best, and just missing at worst. Like missing photos in an album, or film cut off before being put back together.

    "Yeah, an in any of those did you finally get that pole out of your ass?" He snarked back as got back to his feet, throwing the glass over his shoulder, which I caught with a flick of my wrist and strings of chakra.

    "I, in fact, did. And proceed to use it as a blunt force instrument." I blandly reply back, snapping my fingers, to which he begins the exercises of basic chakra training.

    Unlike the rest of the newest 'recruits', pushing Roland to his limit wouldn't lead to unconscious control of his chakra system. Not when he already had other reserves to tap into. If anything, already having something else inside of him, that connection to the realm underneath this one, has allowed him better conscious control of the 'new magic bullshit' flowing through his body.

    Though, the process to create those new coils had been… more violent from Roland. There was never a point in the process where I feared for his life. Instead I feared for my own when lances of flames and ripples of warped reality started to tear through the room.

    We'd had to do it somewhere else that wasn't filled with dangerous experiments and flammable materials, along with having to tie him down with anything that we can find during the implementation.

    It was… quite terrifying how quickly he had taken to the chakra training though, blowing past the basic jutsu and quickly surpassing academy level before long. Experience, it seemed, was the deciding factor.

    "It's weird." He said while he tentatively took steps up the wall, one foot or the other occasionally slipping for a moment before he managed to orient himself firmly back on the wall. "Whenever I tap into my psionics, it's… different than when I'm using this? I use the energies between worlds, from the other plane, to make changes to this one. Conjuring fire, manipulating it, focusing it, strengthening my body, stuff like that. Only, with this it's like I'm using something that I already have. The middle and end are the same, it's just the beginning that has different steps."

    "Yet the outcomes and changes are still the same." I chime in on, reader on my bronze gauntlet reading the chakra readout, even through the interference of whatever energies Roland took in from the other dimension.

    It… honestly reminded me of the magic held within the Dojo. Only, instead of relying on the energy between dimensions, it seemed to be localized to one next to ours. Whatever this was, it was beyond my current understanding, though, that didn't extend to the effects that they were having on his body.

    Though, for some reason, tapping into that particular… 'frequency' seemed to be unwise. There was something about the energy, about where it came from, that was uncomfortably familiar.

    Familiar in the way that most Korinthians were when I looked at them out of the corner of the eye. A memory that I would rather not have. It wasn't from any of the lives that were connected to me once again.

    This was one that had yet to come back to me, memories and abilities that were just out of my reach for whatever reason the bracelet worked.

    Roland jumps away from the wall, his legs allowing him to jump all the way to the other end of the room, twisting in midair to land feet first on the opposite wall. Instead of landing neatly on the wall, he slides down a bit, much like mildew on a leaf, before he manages to get a handle on his chakra control and regains his balance.

    "HA! Told you that I could get this done!" He taunts to me, dancing in place, red hair and beard practically shining as he walked higher up the wall, closer towards the light.

    Which is when he takes a step, fumbles, and promptly falls to the ground, cursing all the while.

    I snap a picture with my Ring.

    Could plaster them around town later.

    "I GET THAT SCROLL NOW! IT COUNTED!" He shouted from his place on the floor, scrambling up and dashing towards the desk at the back of the workshop where I kept said scroll, becoming little more than a streak of red.

    Urgh, I knew that I should have moved the goal post a little further away. Would have let me milk this just a bit longer.


    26.0020 Artisan 100CP Generic Builder Crafting Artisan: You have a talent for creating works of art. Creation times are halved and your natural talent increases with each purchase of this knack. Your artwork has an almost magical ability to invoke a particular emotion that you set at the time of its creation, scary masks, awe inspiring fountains, creepy puppets or such. The degree of emotion-induction effect increases with skill. * Can be taken indefinitely for creation time modifiers
     
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    • Mahakaal said:
    Who was that pink-haired, purple-tattooed girl?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I honestly thought he was in Skyrim, what with the Dragon cult imagery and cold weather. The hair though….. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ no idea, but it must be wild when Xac in a mundane or low magic world. Like everyone's 'normal,' and then here's Xac with Anime power levels as he goes on drunken pub crawls or saves children from their Truck-kun appointment.
     
    Night Raid
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    • I dodge out of the way as the kidnapped witch princess tried shooting me with one of those hexes again, shifting the wooden beam that I'd just finished fashioning with some help from the sword that managed to survive the storm a few weeks back. I mean, I doubt that it'd be enough to kill me, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't hurt like hell.

    "You utter boorish moron!" She shrieked while launching even more volleys of dark magic, small flares of purple pestilence streaming through the air, focused right on me. I don't even bother breaking my stride, kicking up a pillar of sand thick enough to take the barrage of spells.

    "And what exactly have I done to warrant such abuse, oh mighty princess?" Her growl is enough to bring a smile to my face as I add the beam to the rest of my soon-to-be cabin. There weren't many materials on this deserted island, but there was enough to make at least some measure of comfort here.

    I could build something more high-tech, but this world wasn't developed far enough to make a difference. Perhaps those books and notes that I started to publish in some places would be enough to get them started in a direction.

    "EVERYTHING!" The vibrations of her stomping her foot were music to my senses. "If you hadn't been such an utter fool, we wouldn't be stuck in this mess!"

    "I already apologized for crashing us here, not my fault that a hurricane got in the way of everything." I complain back as I pressed the beam into the wall of the cabin, smiling as I walk towards the next tree, hefting the stone axe that I'd fashioned when I'd woken up.

    "Apologies mean nothing! We're still stuck here on a deserted island!" She shrieked again, pink frazzled hair flaring from the dark aura that surrounded her.

    "Hey, I'm building shelter here!" I fired back as I cut through the log with one swing, turning it over and delivering a blow that cut it in half, right down the middle. Wonderful, another perfect cut. "Isn't that enough for an apology?"

    "If you can build a home, then why in Fell's name aren't you building a boat!?" At least she wasn't threatening me again. That had gotten annoying fast. Almost like her attempts to kill me.

    I shrug my shoulders, beginning on the next wall of the cabin with steady bored hands. I could be finished in a heartbeat if I wanted, but where was the fun in that? I stop my work as a nice cool wind blows past us, my long dark hair blowing in the breeze as I let out an appreciative hum. Good weather for the day.

    "Why not? It's not like I got anywhere to be right now. Besides-" I turn and gesture to the miniature farm that I'd started on. Turns out the ship I'd drunken hijacked had been full of goods. Or maybe that's why I'd chosen that ship in the first place? "-got enough food here to last for a while. And I saw some game out in the forest of the island too!"

    She screams again, a shrill viscous thing that would not be out of place on a demon or wild animal. I let my smile grow wider at the wondrous noise. "WHAT ABOUT ME!? I AM ROYALTY! NOT SOME PAUPER MEANT TO SCROUNGE AROUND IN THE DIRT LIKE A PEASANT!"

    "Really? Because from my view, you look like a normal person to me. Sure, prettier than most, but how are those going to help you here on the island?" It was always so easy to wind up those from nobility. She threw a knife she'd been keeping… somewhere at me. I caught it in my teeth as I continued work on the lodge.

    Her scream was music to my ears.


    ​



    Everything changed the moment that mad scientist activated that little device of his.


    Suddenly, energy that we didn't know had always been around us focused on just about every person that had set foot into his tinker ware mansion. Then the screaming started, and the fire and smoke engulfed everything.

    I don't remember running out of the building, I especially don't remember grabbing the pretty Indian lady that had been a few feet away from me, and all but dragging her out of the building, while some pretty boy that was gayer than Times Square on Pride Day dove back in, calling out "MAX! WHERE ARE YOU MAX!".

    I mean, it's obvious to me because I was around during the eighties, and the nineties, and the early 2000's, and I was… well me, so my gaydar is far far better than most people here in the fucking 1920's.

    So, did he hide the way he kept looking at blond money bags well? Absolutely not. But this wasn't when everyone's first thought was that he was crushing on him, so maybe that's why he was able to stay in the closet. No one really expects it right now.

    Now, a few more decades, and that would be another story.

    For now, it was best that the stunted broodful pretty boy stayed where he was, less chance of the 'brilliant' Micheal Donighal to get lynched and discredited in these times.

    I don't know what I was thinking when I chose this world as my home when my apprenticeship ended. Damned Rynhardt should have warmed me of the shit storm that I was walking into. Sure, choose any of the boundless pathways inside of this multiversal traveler, too bad this thing only opens once every     fifty years on your side!

    Damned git.

    Thought that getting work with this Dr. Hammersmith would have been a gateway into something fun, and it was for a time. Until everything exploded.

    Then the energy went crazy, and I felt it leak into the room, spreading and going     into the people there. From moneybags, to his emotionally stunted admirer, and the kind Burano who'd managed to show the brilliance of her mind, rising from a mere staff member into Hammersmith's head assistant.

    It had been pleasing to watch. Knowledge and creativity cultivated from some of the unlikeliest of places. They weren't builders, no, but they had that drive that one couldn't help but admire.

    Then the energy hit me, that special brand of cosmic residue that gathered between worlds… and I started to remember.

    Damn it, the memories were coming back far smoother than I realized. They came back faster and faster with each passing life. Soon, I think I'll just blink and     BAM, they're all back.

    Memories of life when I wasn't a Builder, but a human. One of them, capable of so much, even though they…     we, are so weak.

    Or at least, appeared to be.

    I could only watch helplessly as Saraswati walked back into the flames, a serene expression on her face as if the roaring flames in front of her were nothing more than a warm breeze, and watch as they just… parted in front of her. A literal Red Sea simply dividing itself as she walked into the burning building in the middle of London, people coming out in no time.

    What the hell was I doing? Here there were a bunch of humans running into the building, rushing to help their fellow man, even though most of them would surely die in there, if it wasn't for the telluric energy that changed them every passing moment

    Well, I wasn't going to be left behind, no sir. I was a Builder in this life goddamnit, and I wasn't going to just sit on the sidelines and wait for everything to get fixed without chipping in!

    Rushing back into the building, I grab any piece of machinery that I can get my hands on. Watches, clocks, the occasional screw off a window frame as I hold my breath, hands working lightning quick, assembling the small heat absorber no bigger than a small .38 pistol. Had to cheat with some magic to makeup the lack of specialized parts, but that was fine.

    The rush of Tellurgic energy had me running on a high that I'd never felt before, and I ran further into the flames, ignoring the heat against my skin and the burning in my lungs as I absorbed as much fire around me as I could, diminishing the killing fires.

    ​



    "This is bullshit." Roland said as he stared up at our newest creation.

    It was far less bulky than the clanking Walker, reinforced with a combination of stronger alloys that we'd managed to scrounge up from a former manufactory down below, and Power/Mythril shard enhanced parts.

    It stood shorter than the three-story tall Walkers, with far less plating, but I'd focused instead on speed and maneuverability. Instead of thin legs, they were reinforced with more plating, the cockpit a rounded carriage instead of an open-top, cannons and energy weapons attached to its chest and thin red arms, enchanted with flame resistance thanks to Melina, and me once she taught me the trick.

    While the Striders wouldn't be the walking tanks that the Walkers are, they made up for it by actually being able to maneuver instead of simply lumbering around like a pair of drunken brutes.

    "What exactly about this is this… 'bullshit'?" Melina asks with a tilt of her head.

    "You built this damn thing in only two hours!? What the actual hell!?" Roland screamed, pointing up at the prototype Strider that some clones were attaching various weapons to. Hmm, might need to add some of those acid grenades. Less chance to get out of control compared to incendiary ammunition.

    "That is simply incorrect. Designing it and testing out other variations easily took up twenty or so hours." I chime in while adding the last Lightning stone into the power supply, humming in appreciation as the Strider hums with power, ready to go.

    "THAT! THAT IS ALSO BULLSHIT!" Roland screamed again, pointing with shaking hands at the remains of the last failed project that had blown up in our face a few days ago. "It took you almost a week to get the last attempt done, and this one already looks like it's ready to go and stomp some fucker into black salsa before ninja jumping running on trees!"

    "Speed is simply a byproduct of what we wished for this particular model." I quietly said, walking up the Strider's body and taking out some pigments of paint that we'd made out of greenery and foliage found out in the jungle. "The true goal of this project was to see just how magical imbued machinery and parts would fare compared to the normal mundane Walkers. While it has less firepower compared to the others, it's just as durable, with some versatility added into it." Not caring for any design in particular, I glance down at the ring on my finger and begin painting the stylized Bull Moose head onto the mech's red-bronze chest in black paint.

    Hm, perhaps adding in a few tesla coils and lighting conductors wouldn't be too bad an idea? Sorta, lightning cage thing that flash fries anything that gets too close.

    No, no, it'll drain too much power far too quickly. No need to use up all the Lightning stones that we have at the moment, least not until I manage to figure out how to create a more mundane power source.

    Siphoning off power from the Dark Matter core underground was a work in progress that I still hadn't figured out, and trying to inject magic into the problem was… unwise. I couldn't come back to life if I blew up the city, or continent, because I put too much magic into dark matter causing a mass extinction event.

    More work added onto the pile of everything that we were already doing. At least the teaching was coming along, Columbus and some of those others that were interested in furthering their studies had shown strides in picking up some of the basics.

    There weren't any budding geniuses or prodigies in this batch, but that didn't mean that they weren't all bright students, even if some of them were four times my age. Lifespans were incredibly varied amongst the life that inhabited the galaxy, some people having been here for at least one human generation before this point.

    Warriors and soldiers were harder to come by, but they still came.

    Separate from the Korinthian 'recruits' more for the horned one's protection than because I wished to keep them away from everyone else. It only made their rapid advancement in chakra manipulation and learning all the more hilarious.

    Some struggled, and there was only so much that I could lean on to teach them properly. Memories of past lives came and went, little snippets that I could use here and there, but nothing truly concrete or useful in those that truly struggled. Patience was the key, and that particular skill I had long since mastered. Impatience tended to get you killed in the tunnels. Too loud, and too fast meant that a Stoneskin would crush you into a pulp before eating the slurry meat that you left behind.

    Time, while not as precious as before given the five times speed that the clock gave us, was still something to be valued. Space was another key issue, the Dojo capable of holding only so much. Speed was Melina and I's advantage, anything that we could deem as 'art' accomplished in far less time that should be possible.

    And, dare I say, it was increasing the more that we pushed ourselves into whatever field we touched.

    "So, what's the plan? For real?" Roland asks, all the bravado and exasperation gone from his face as his green orbs pierce into my hazel ones. "You've been doing hit -nd-run's for the past few weeks out there, using those blimps of yours to cover more ground than they can. Well, they're running out of land to take."

    "From what we have gathered, we've managed to cut off their… 'supply' of fresh victims to turn into those creatures." Melina intones, hands brushing against the black dagger that sent terror down my spine. "This has made the latest resistance attempts far more minimal and quick compared to those we engaged in previously."

    "Meaning they got their back to the walls." Roland finished, the machete that I'd reinforced with some alloys scavenged underground glinting and shimmering in a violet haze.

    "Any creature will resort to desperate maneuvers in this situation." I say, flashes of lonely days and bitter plans floating through my mind. Some of them were clearer than others, some were from lives that I had no connection to. Those had been rising far more often lately.

    Our goal had been obvious from the start. Their little stronghold at the center of their old territory, before they'd taken the other groups that had gathered together for survival.

    "So, any plans? Overwhelming firepower?" Roland asked, staring up at the Strider as it lifted a thin arm, the clone inside shifting its hand into a fist with its nimble almost delicate digits.

    "Not upfront." Is my response as I walk across the room and take out my new armor.

    I'd used the plates and what was left of the armor that Roland had given me all those days ago. Before I'd died my first death. Before everything else that had come with each following one. The lightweight plates had been reinforced with both strengthened alloys, and stones of Power and Mythril, along with a few shards of Darkness.

    We'd tried using a stone instead, but tests had deemed trying to imbue materials or objects with too much magic was… unwise. And liable to magical overload that tended to end in an explosion.

    That's how I'd managed to learn what being swallowed alive by darkness felt like. It was cold, choking, and every bad memory that I've ever had swallowing up my mind.

    10/10 in the worst ways to die category.

    Ghost had forbidden us from trying to shove more than three or four conceptualized stones into any one thing.

    Burning alive was still up there, as was buried alive, though nothing would ever top taking some… mushrooms that I'd cultivated as a relaxant, and wound up creating a paralytic one instead that slowly shut down the organs.

    Too much time brewing certain ingredients in the lab, and not enough cultivating them in the ground. Melina and Ghost had found me sitting in a chair, the tea long since cooled in front of me, my paralyzed form staring at the doorway with bug-eyed eyes, screaming as loud as I could in my mind, unable to even make the slightest twitch.
    I finally heard Melina laugh for the first time when I'd woken up and explained everything after putting me out of my misery.

    If it hadn't been for that death though, a good chunk of my engineering knowledge wouldn't have come back to me. Memories of a world under threat of alien invasion. An earth before humanity had taken to the stars.

    An organization hiding underneath a mountain, taking from the very best that the planet had to offer, both in its personnel and military. The knowledge reinforced what I already knew, while opening paths that might have been more… difficult before the new star connected.

    Regardless, action was required.

    Perhaps soon, this entire ordeal would be over. Not quickly or quietly, the experience from the memories told me that every plan almost always went wrong. It was an occupational hazard after all.

    "The plan is going to be a much more… subtle approach." I tell Roland, glancing over towards the diagram and map we'd spent so many days going over. I wasn't expecting everything to go according to plan. Which was fine.

    I just needed the first part to do so.





    Winth

    I'm going to die tonight aren't I?     He told himself over and over again as the gateway separating this reality, and the planet opened, the familiar scenery of the growing city replaced by that of a dreary dark fortress made of steel and stone.

    Xircoul. An amalgamation of prebuilt architecture and crafted stone that the first Rokarthians built using their own knowledge and slave labor.

    "You've been here before, right?" Xavier asked him in the darkness, dressed entirely in his black armor, the bronze gauntlet painted black, the lightning absent from his magical conduit.

    "A couple of times." Winth admitted, his horns practically itching from the nerves of being here again. He always hated coming here, into the den of fanatics and monsters. He wanted nothing more than to forget everything that he'd seen here.

    The rooms in the basement. Cells where countless species simply waited for whatever fate came their way. If they were lucky, it was simply a beating or some slave labor. If they weren't…images of chains and torches came to mind. The smell of cooking meat and strangled screaming echoing in his ears.

    He fights the bile rising in his throat. "I remember plenty of this place." No matter how much Winth would prefer not to.

    "You're going to be fine from here on out?" Xavier asks, stretching his limbs back and forth, even more of his clones drag the dead Rokarthian bodies into the Workshop, quickly pocketing their weapons and armor for whatever in the universe he's working towards.

    "Do I really have any other choice?" Winth asked, stretching his fingers out over and over, forcing the energy that flowed through him.

    "Of course you do." Xavier said, looking at him with… soft eyes. "If you want to just turn around and walk back in, I'm not going to stop you. That wasn't part of the deal." The words were more informal than his normal speech, yet, there was a bluntness to them that was very much the strange man that looked older each passing day.

    It wasn't that he grew more wrinkles, or his hair grew white. There was a… weariness in his eyes. One that promised he'd seen more than even the oldest Korinthian ever would. A thousand click stare that he would sometimes slip into when he was alone, staring blankly at whatever memory he focused on.

    "As if I would just turn tail and run." Winth responded back, mainly out of spite against the way that this place made him feel.

    "Alright. You know what the plan is. Let's see just how much chaos we can weave." With that, the tear in reality closed, a miniature key reappearing on the golden bracelet around the dark haired man's wrist. That was the last thing that he heard of the strange human, as he disappeared into the darkness with nary a sound.

    "Let's go see what we can do then." Winth said, voice full of steel that he could almost believe was real. At least, his men did.

    Their steps, while not as graceful as their teacher, they were at least good enough to sneak through the dimly lit hallways, catching the guards on patrol by surprise. Night had just fallen not even four hours ago. Meaning that there were plenty of unsuspecting and sleeping Korinthians that they tore their way through with nary a sound.

    Xac had given them all their own 'ninja' tools. Kunai and shuriken that, while impractical in actual combat, were more than enough for this particular 'activity'. He didn't know how many he killed. He didn't care. Not when he noticed the various blood stains and chains that lined the rooms.

    It was enough to remind him of his… last visit to this damned place.

    "What the-!" A voice shouts, driving his blood cold, and he throws the small pointed piece of metal in his hands out of sheer instinct, the scream of the guard dying out in a wet gurgle as his throat was sliced open, his laser rifle landing with a thunk on the floor.

    Too bad his friend was already raising his own weapon towards him. Fear him like a bucket of cold water over his soul, his chakra flaring to life as he jumps to the side with all the speed and force that he can muster from his body. The flare of the rifle flashes red, lightning up the room in its glow as he feels the blast burn itself into his arm, barely managing to keep his chest from sporting a new hole.

    Instead, he had to deal with losing a good chunk of his shoulder.

    "Get him!" His fellow Korinthian 'traitors' shout, jumping on the panicking Rokarthian, who began to scream and fire blindly as they all threw their weapons at him, the others raising up their own energy weapons and firing with beams of light and rays of cryogenic cold, the sound of hissing steam filling the air.

    Biting his lip, he looks over at the still gurgling dying male, who stared at him with hate filled crimson eyes.

    Winth meets them with his own, giving him a cold smile as he reaches over as slowly as he possibly can. The gurgling intensified as his victim realized what he was doing, the dying man trying to wriggle away from him, grabbing the shuriken embedded into his neck and trying to force it in deeper.

    "Ah, ah, ah, I don't think so." Winth whispered to him, like a secret shared among friends as he forced the sharpened metal away, grabbing onto his opponents dying fingers with his own. "I think that it's about time that you feel what they all felt, don't you?"

    The Widow takes no pleasure in activating the 'gift' that every Korinthian had. Expelling millions of cells through his skin into that of another living being, connecting to their very lifeforce for a split second, their lives tied down to each other. He feels his victim's pain as if it was his own, the fear that pulsed and kept death just that little bit farther away from snapping the thread of life, the seeping coolness as warmth leaked from his neck. He also felt what wasn't there. No guilt. No remorse.

    Not even a second thought or emotion to the millions that were in chains and dying below them.

    With snarl, he pulls back, 'eating' every bit of life and biomass that grunt had left, grunting in pain as he ate his fill while meat, blood, and bone regenerated from his burnt arm.

    What he'd just done would be considered the gravest of all crimes in the Empire. Cannibalism against his own kind, an act that was deemed too painful for the 'good people' of the Empire.

    He was already in hell, so what did he care?

    By the time that he got his wits back about him, the other one was dead, and the rest of the facility remained its cold stone quiet stillness that reminded him far too much of the Necrophage worlds. The withered corpse of the dead Korinthian lay there, forgotten by the rest as they took their places, eyes searching for any sign of further combatants.

    A dreary name for a dreary planet type. Eternal night over an endless landscape of eternal tombs. Memorials of the dead that fueled the empire.

    No thanks.

    Winth preferred the sunshine of this death trap.

    "Let's keep going, shall we?" They knew their part of the plan. It had been their idea after all, even if they all had second thoughts along the way to this day.

    Kill as many of them as possible before the 'hammer' came down. Which they returned to with abandon.

    The death of thousands of aliens were already in their hands. More wouldn't do a damn thing to their conscience.






    It was far easier getting into the complex of this damned city than I would have liked. Air support wasn't something that they had, and given the activity that we'd observed over the past few weeks, they were scrambling trying to do… something for them to even notice us. More and more alien slaves were sent into the main complex, of all ages too, with none ever being seen again.

    What came out instead were more of those bioengineered monstrosities. Most of them looking like they wouldn't last to see the end of the month. Rushing the process seemed to only make it worse. Unsurprising given what I'd seen of the various corpses that I'd examined.

    While the Korinthians, would have to think of a name for them, were weaving chaos, I'd dive deeper into the facility, spawning clones to investigate the facility. Looking for codes, gene tanks, supplies, anything that would help when we decided to stop playing this game of waiting cat.

    We found that and more than I would have ever liked.

    Spent withered corpses that were waiting to be cremated. Scared shaking remnants of 'used' slaves, frightened new ones that were waiting to take their place. I couldn't help the crackle of my gauntlet, the influx of magic wishing, no, begging me to let it all out.

    I simply unleash a few mend spells on those that I found, knowing full well what kind of horrors they all had experienced in this place.

    Most of them were human. Others were Yarroreaches, and the various other races that had allied themselves with humanity, as Winth had informed me.

    I had to keep Roland in the dark about all this, or I warranted him going off the leash and unleashing every ounce of psychic power to turn this place into an infernal wasteland. Couldn't let him do that before I managed to get every last piece of salvageable utilities out of this place. Whether that be information or equipment, it didn't matter.

    I blink as a clone's memories rush into me, corridors leading further and further down the levels, deathly silence as we dispatched a retinue of guards and opened the door leading down into the 'pens'.

    Flashes of other lives flowed in. Of humans bought and sold like cattle. Of entire empires built upon the backs of their lives, the suffering and horror forgotten to the sands of time.

    Nothing stands in my way as I slip through the dimmed hallways, lifeless corpses left behind in my wake as my clones go to work all throughout the facility as the Korinthians sow their own chaos.

    It hasn't even been twenty minutes, but already our presence was felt by those that were awake and operating, the chattering of dead men speaking to each other as corpses were found here and there, shouting echoing through the stone metal hallways.

    Their fear and shouting wouldn't matter. After all, I doubted anyone would wish to remember any of them after today.

    "Shouldn't we offer them at least a chance of surrender?" Ghost asked in my head, worried about the turn of events, but already knowing my answer as I opened the door that stood between the headless corpses and I stare out over the countless cells.

    Each one inhabited by some form of life, most of them wounded ranging from light bruises, all the way to lacerations and broken bones. Other's look like they haven't eaten in days, while some could only sit there helplessly, staring out with empty eye sockets. The putrid smell of countless forms of waste reached my nose, more memories of traveling through sewers and warzones from lives that I couldn't quite remember yet making their way back.

    I feel red haze my eyes as I look across the countless people in front me, as I glared down at the stone cages that had been carved and brought in here. How? I don't know. The singing at my fist reminds me of the ring around my finger, the orange singing flames tinged with a red swaying haze.

    A tell I'd forgotten was always there.

    This place might have once been a natural quarry, or a deep storage site. Whatever it might have once been was lost and forgotten, now just another slave pen for those that waited for the horror to end.

    More clones are summoned, my chakra flowing and blazing at finally being used for more than simple strings and experiments, an old ache forgotten until now.

    I watched with dispassioned eyes as my clones rushed down into the cells, breaking through the stone and opening the gateway into the Dojo, rushing people inside, diagnosing those that remained motionless in their spots.

    And I felt something else happen. For the first time in… so long, I felt another star connect, no need for the void of death cloying at my soul.

    I couldn't help but laugh. Loud, long and hard as I closed the door behind me, uncaring for the noise that I made as images and diagrams danced through my mind. Of walking humanoid robots, of wonderful makes and designs that put anything I made to shame.

    Of Gundams that danced through the sky, clashing against each other in the dance of war, to the heroic black and red of the Mazinger that had the capability to become a god or a devil. Other memories flitted through, smaller Knightmare Frames intended for urban fighting, all the way towards biomechanical abominations that shouldn't have been possible.

    Then I remembered the green glow of Getter. Of the infinite possibility of life to always evolve, always push on towards the next peak, the next frontier of evolution.

    And I remembered all the friends that I had made in that world. Of poor Amuro, who died saving the world from that fool's last ditch attempt to force Earth to 'embrace the stars'. Of hot-blooded Koji that always threw himself into whatever fight of justice came his way. Of wild Ryoma that refused to lay down and die, fighting for the next day, just as hard as the last.

    Oh, my old friends, how I have missed missing all of you.

    How I wish to see you now. How I wish I could have felt this loss yesterday.

    Were all those battles worth it in the end? The horrors of war that no one but us could know?

    Horrors that I faced now with a different face and life?

    I still felt the rage that flowed through me. I still wanted to burn this entire damned place down into the ground, stone by stone, brick by brick.

    But I stayed my hand. There was a cost to senseless horror, and its barest edge had entered into my memory. The hazy fears of fighting Gundams and invading monsters refreshed in my mind.

    Needless slaughter and blaze of glory was not what was needed now. Part of me regretted setting the Korinthians to sow chaos amongst the ranks, killing those that they could before retreating back towards the roof where a clone waited, concealed in darkness. Needless killing helped no one.

    Yet, I couldn't quite silence the howling of the rage at the back of my mind.

    So, for now, I would simply continue on.

    Finishing the path that lay before me.

    More memories filtered through, more from the dispersal of my clones, forcing me to pause as an image reigned clearly in my mind. A vast laboratory, filled with pods and other arrays of equipment that I did not know, with only a single occupant inside. A Korinthian, the first one I'd seen wearing a collar around his neck other than the ones that took them up willingly on my side.

    By the time I'd reached the room, on the same level as the stairs that led into the dungeon, the key to my Workshop had already returned back to my wrist, the jingling of the other tools a comfortable anchor against the torrent of emotions that warred within me.

    Opening the door, I found the lone Korinthian in the same exact spot, sitting on an uncomfortable chair, watching me with one golden eye, the other a crimson red, bereft of fear. If anything, there was… hope? Why would one of them feel hope at seeing me?

    That wasn't the oddest thing about this one though. Unlike the rest of the Korinthians I'd met, his horns weren't completely black, or speckled white with age, instead, rings of gold marked both of his horns, adorning them almost like jewelry as they glittered in the green light of the pods filled with floating monstrosities.

    I would have shot him where he stood if it weren't for the collar around his neck, or the pieces of metallic string that swerve his mouth shut, the entry points jagged and torn, as if they had been put on while he struggled against the act.

    He doesn't make a sound, but he does rise and… bowed?

    Yes, he bows with either arms against his sides, head down low before rising again, and makes a fucking peace sign with one black scaled hand.

    A human gesture. One that I'd never seen in this life before winding up here on Refuse.

    "What the heck?" Ghost asks, appearing next to me, staring at the surprised Korinthian with a blue eye. "Do you know what that means?"

    The horned one nods his head, bringing both hands up in dual peace signs while gesturing towards the gun at my hip with a shake of his head.

    "You don't want to fight." I answer, understanding the charades, because I'd had to do them too at first before I'd managed to get a ring with a text-to-speech program installed.

    He nods emphatically, gesturing to the strings on his mouth, making a snipping motion with one hand while keeping the other one as a peace sign.

    I stare at him, wondering if this was just a ploy to let my guard down before I dismiss the though. Not like I couldn't get back up if he blew himself up.

    Reaching into my bag, I pick up a simple Kunai and slice through the strings, careful to avoid his lips as the metal strings come undone at the fast chakra enhanced blade. He gasps in surprise, almost taking a step back before I grab him with one hand to keep him in place.

    "Easy now, just stand still for a little bit." Ghost soothes towards the surprised Korinthian, who nods and gestures at me to finish. With one hand, I reach up, and begin to pull the strings off, careful not to exacerbate the wounds.

    He grunts in pain, but remains resolute, staring at me dead in the eye as I finish pulling them off, reaching in my bag for disinfectant and dabbing them on the wounds with a bit of cloth that he offered off one of the many tables.

    Before I can bandage them though, he gently grabs my hand.

    "Thank you." He whispers to me in perfect Japanese, before repeating it in English.

    I blink. "You know Earth languages?"

    He nods. "Teachers… human." He grunts in pain, his mouth having been sown… probably months ago if I was looking at the wounds right. "Never… wanted… this. No… choice." He mumbles out again, while looking at the surrounding lab with a haunted expression on his face, nightmares playing out behind his eyes that I could not see.

    "I garnered that by the collar and lips." I offered softly. Speaking off…

    With nimble fingers, I bring out my screwdriver and tweezers, the golden screw quickly undoing the outer plating of the collar while I use my wires to maneuver across the insides, the tweezers cutting the wires connecting the laser mechanisms from the power source.

    Shattering the collar was easy after that, and I was given view to chaffed skin and cracked scales. The collar had been intentionally created to be too tight.

    "I reckon that someone brought you here, right?" I asked as I dug into my pack again. Damn it, not enough medical supplies. I was going to have to go back into the Dojo for more to treat these. I had no idea how to deal with Korinthian infections.

    "Brother…asshole." He weakly said before I finish wrapping bandages around his mouth.

    "Explanation is going to have to wait." I tell him, gently lifting him up while offering him an arm. He quickly takes it with his thin shaking limbs, and it's only now that I realize he was mostly skin and scale instead of actual meat on his bones.

    "For now, I think that it's about time I raze this place, don't you?" He widens his eyes, fear rampant, though not for himself. "I already got everyone in the basement out of here, I'm not leaving a single slave here behind." I promised him, and he relaxes.

    Realizing that I wasn't going to get more out of him like this, I take off my ring and hand it to him, showing him how to use the little device. I didn't even use the thing that much anymore, so it wouldn't serve me much anyways.

    "Thank you again." He typed out.

    "It's no problem really." Ghost offered softly, hovering next to the Korinthian as he stared in wonder at the tear in reality that I opened, gazing at the Dojo with tears in his eyes.

    "So, got a name?" I ask as we step through, clones walking past us as they begin stealing equipment and breaking shit.

    "Xelincos. Rekinth Xelincos." He answers, the former prince of the Empire, and supposed Butcher giving me a smile underneath his bandages.

    Well, shit.
    33.0010 Customized Weapons 100CP XCOM Quality Design You know that efficiency is number one, because waste is a thief. You know how to make the best designs better, and will ensure that the equipment in use is ergonomic, streamlined, and efficient. 39.0078 A Whole World of Tech 400CP Super Robot Wars International My Added Stuff You can easily reverse-engineer the various technologies you will find in this world, such as Mazins and the biomechanical evas.

    Yes, I added Super Robot Wars stuff to the Forge. I have found the drug that is Mecha and have injected into my veins. Setting that Xavier lived in specifically was SRW 30, which ended right before the beginning of the game.... which I still need to finish. Which I have almost 120 hours on. Please help.
     
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    • Xolsis said:
    Yes, I added Super Robot Wars stuff to the Forge. I have found the drug that is Mecha and have injected into my veins. Setting that Xavier lived in specifically was SRW 30, which ended right before the beginning of the game.... which I still need to finish. Which I have almost 120 hours on. Please help.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    oh boy
    that mean Mazinger and Getter

    one Getter reactor = Emperor turning it head toward the local universe direction = Stoner Sunshine
     
    I love the little snippets of other lives we get, though I wonder if it would be possible to leave a little note at the end about what settings those snippets are set in? I recognize Fire Emblem Awakening, but decidedly not some of the other ones.
     
    expikah said:
    I love the little snippets of other lives we get, though I wonder if it would be possible to leave a little note at the end about what settings those snippets are set in?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I might start doing that with the second snippets of the different lives. Writing them has been really fun, as every time I roll perks I make up the various live's that Xavier has lived.

    Most of the time, they will be one that is already 'connected' to Xavier's Forge, other times, it'll be one that I can't stop thinking about. Like Xavier accidentally kidnapping Aversa before canon starts.

    Now, the other snippet was one that is probably very niche. It was Generic Builder, but since the actual setting for the Jump was whatever you wanted, I chose Trinity Continuum: Adventure! A tabletop roleplaying game that takes place in the 1930's that is meant to evoke the era's of pulp fiction.

    It is the fourth main book for the Trinity Continuum by Onyx Path, the second edition of Trinity that had originally been created by White Wolf. Now, Continuum does away with a lot of the... dumb grimderp crap that infected most of the original gamelines.

    There are 4 main gamelines, the Core Book, which provides the base rules and character creation for Talents, a form of Inspired capable of unconsciously shifting probability and pushing their abilities to the limit. Aeon is the last on in the chronological order, taking place in 2100's after a huge Aberrant war that left a good chunk of the Earth a tainted wasteland, and therefore humanity looks towards the stars with Psions their only bastian against the mutated former hero Aberrants. Aberrant is the 'third' gameline that takes place after the Core book, and before Aeon.

    An age of heroes capable of things in the realm of demigods, with the looming threat of war hanging over everyone's heads.

    Lastly, and most recently, is Adventure! which is the first on chronologically, but the most recent book to have come out, an era of Adventure and hope as Inspired first take to the field. Daredevils(Talents), Stalwarts(Novas), and Mesmerists(Psiads).

    Now, Aberrant and Aeon each have jumpchains, at least the first editions, and there are some perks in the Forge, others which I've added myself. So, I wanted to add in Adventure for the hell of it. One of the few worlds that Xavier has been able to return to in his travels through his chain.

    RookDeSuit said:
    Good Civ, and have you considered grass to curb gaming enthusiasm? ;)
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Hey! I can stop whenever I want! Shivers and scratches
     
    Ironically this is the "easy" part of the adventure/story, it's going to get difficult once everyone and the galaxy is aware of him and his settlement. You'll have governments making accusations of his knowledge, space warlords seeing him as a upstart simply wanting too " put him in his place", also the politics people wanna enforce on him. It probably gonna gets worse for his group.
     
    Memories, Laid to Rest
  • Threadmarks
    • "You're an idiot." The princess said to me, even as she angrily munched on a fish that I'd just caught this morning, a small side of berries and other assorted fruits added to the menu. Seaweed might have to be something I dived for later on as well, wouldn't do to lack any sort of veggies on the menu.

    "Oh? And might I say what stroked this wonderful commentary from you Aversa?" Getting her name had been like pulling teeth, but I managed to get it in the end.

    "I know you can get us out of here." She glared at me with those dark eyes of hers, looking like she wanted nothing more than to shoot curses from her eyes that would eat me alive. Which… might be something that she could do with enough time and practice.

    Best not to focus on that.

    "You're not just some random construction worker, or builder." I bite into my own fish, humming in appreciation. Missing a few herbs here and there, but still delicious.

    "I won't argue that point, but just because I'm not a normal craftsman, doesn't mean I can just whip up a ship to get out of here." Her glare intensified, even while she helped herself to another skewer by the campfire.

    "The cabin first of all. You have gone… overboard on just a simple cabin." She stared pointedly at the elaborate cabin that stood three stories tall, the wooden logs perfect and immaculate, even as my carvings of trees and woods along the edges seemed to dance in the sunset sun.

    I could just play with her emotions. Try to be coy or pretend to be a dullard. But that song and dance had long since grown old. Mainly because she stopped screaming at me a few months ago. She gave up trying to keep her distance after the first three nights of no food and no shelter.

    The assassinations attempts stopped about a week after that. Which is good, because wake up call by dagger to the throat was never fun, even if it didn't penetrate my skin anymore.

    "Second, what in the blazes is this novel even about? And where did you get it?" She said as she lifted Lord of the Rings into the air. That had been a surprise when I'd first found the novel.

    And fucking hilarious. Especially because it answered all those questions I'd had in that life so long ago. Didn't know how long ago, memories became blurred with the amount of lives I've lived.

    "It was written by a linguist that made up his own language, and wrote those to give said language history." I said between bites. "I managed to make that book out of some of the trees around here, and used some ink that was left from the wreckage of the ship. Sure, the paper was ruined, but the inkwells were at least properly sealed. Making a miniature printing press had been fine with some wood and time.

    She stared at me, the wish to call me a liar on her lips, but she knew that's what I relished. Unfortunately, just like how I'd learned more about her during our time together, she now knew more about me as well.

    "Well, he tends to drag in places." She eventually said, flipping the tome containing all three books back to a page in the middle. "Also, strange obsession with feet."

    "Not going to argue that." I still didn't understand Hobbits, but I missed the quite folk. Wacky and uproarious adventures were always out there. But one also needed those quiet days too. A good book in hand with a fireplace to sit at.

    We stay there until the sun sets, the only sounds the rustling of pages and crackling of fire, the both of us returning to our rooms inside of our cabins.

    "Goodnight Xavier." She said from room, whispered so quietly, that I don't think she intended for me to hear it.

    Huh. I think that's the first time she's ever used my name.


    ​


    It was done. The Masquerade was over.

    I watched with dispassionate eyes as recordings filtered through the televisions screens far and wide, the same images displayed throughout the world. I'd broken one of my rules.

    Of keeping myself from severely impacting the status quo of a peaceful world. Of keeping the magical secret from the greater consciousness of humanity, all while using technology decades beyond what was possible in the late 20th century. Smartphones weren't even a dream in a programmer's mind, let alone a ring communicator used to hijack every signal in the world. Which was only possible because it wasn't like there were any defenses against tampering with satellites above the earth.

    At least, not if no one knew you could actually reach them. Space travel was at least a few decades left. Perhaps more now, given the chaos that I watched unfold through my drones scattered through the world.

    I watched with dispassionate eyes as Death Eater apparated into Parliament, which was currently having one of their more lively chats, only blow into the stratosphere given the severity of magic being real. And now there were a bunch of wizard supremacists there, wands in hand wearing their shame on their faces, the skulls that would have been intimidating if it weren't for what happened next.

    Even as lines of green shot through the air, bullets echoed through the room as well, bodies dropping on both sides as those in Parliament that were warned fought back against their attackers, many of their companions already still and dead. Pressing a button, drones, tiny flying things, lighting zappers attached to their hulls, detached from the ceiling, joining in on the battle between science and magic.

    "What have you done?" A voice asked, and I turn to find an owl sitting on my window sill, a piece of parchment enchanted to morph into a familiar face with half moon glasses.

    "What no one else was willing to do." I said with a voice as dead as ice.


    "Millions will die. Hundreds already have, in these few moments since your declaration." I heard something that very few people ever did from Dumbledore. Rage. Pure, seething, helpless rage.

    I couldn't even bring myself to be satisfied at that. "I know Albus. Believe me, I do. Maybe someday I'll care enough to regret it. To understand just how much of a mistake I have made, perhaps I'm even doing it right now." I turn away from him, focusing my flames onto another little project, a small piece of enchanted crystal capable of 'harmonizing' a certain area. A sorta magical EMP grenade.

    "Your regrets will do nothing for the lives that will be lost in this Wraithwight." Ouch, he wasn't even using my last name anymore. Pity.

    "And what have you done? Have     any of you done in order to actually bring understanding between the magical community and the non-magical one? Other than simply hide away from the world, afraid instead of actually trying to bring peace to everything?" I didn't shout, didn't raise my voice, simply asked as the floating paper head stared at my back, the owl long since flown away through the window. "How many dead children and carnage must be sown for you all to be satisfied? How about the slavery that you keep the rest of the magical creatures under? Or the inbreeding and racism amongst the elites?"

    "Even if we did strive for what you speak of, those ills would not simply disappear."

    "The point isn't that it'll happen right then and there. The point is that none of you even     try." I finally turn back to face him, eyes blazing and ring screaming in my hand, magic sparkling amongst my fingertips as I raged at wishing to just break something, anything to make this roar in my ears be fucking quiet. "Maybe then Zoran and Rena would still be alive. As would all those other kids." I'd already long since gotten to the Death Eaters that attacked the train at the start of the year, but that did nothing to quiet the storm that rage in my ears.

    "This carnage isn't going to bring them back!" Desperation echoed in the old wizards voice, true fear that he probably hadn't felt in years.

    "It won't. It will probably pave the future with bones and blood before any sort of peace can be found." I give him an empty smile. "Best go and work on that diplomacy that you so love."

    In the end, Voldemort would die. Not because of some prophecy, or any child that should have been protected instead of thrust into this fucking nightmare. Now he was dead too. Like his parents. So many dead kids. And there were going to be more. But as long as the snake perished, not to wizard hands, but to 'weak' muggles, then I would laugh as the rain pours blood around me.

    He took the one thing I never knew I wanted from me. A family of my own. Not even a dream in those horrible days strapped to that chair, alone in the dark with     him. Now, I would shove into the dark box. Incapable of looking anywhere except the hell that he culminated.

    And I would be the one to provide the rope.


    ​




    I didn't know what else to do, so I just helped the former crown prince into one of the many common rooms of the Workshop, past the crowds of people that… hurt to see. The lame, the wary, the crippled and enslaved, each one being examined and helped to the best of my clones, and those that volunteered's ability.

    A Yarrowreacher ran past me, carrying so many bandages and healing paste that I couldn't even see his head as he disappeared into the bustling crowd. My clones were the ones doing the examination, while those that had accompanied us for this mission helped with the manual labor, those more trained in first aid flurries of activities.

    Sad to say, most of the slaves being kept in the fortress had been a blessing in disguise. Meant that I didn't have to wrack my brain trying to figure out how their biology worked. Human biology along with certain forms of botany? I was pretty sure I was one of the leading experts.

    But when it came to alien biology? Especially with the amount of species running around? I at least had two eyes and a functioning brain that could eventually adapt. Unfortunately, eventually didn't seem like it meant much right now. And I couldn't exactly let them out of the pocket dimension to buy some time. Not when the entrance was connected to the palace.

    It was so busy, and chaotic, that no one noticed as I escorted the frail Korinthian former prince through the crowd, careful with the thin alien's limbs, his eyes watching everything with a… sorrowful look. One that didn't fit the image that I, and many others, had conjured when thinking of the Genetic Butcher.

    "He isn't what I imagined after hearing your stories." Ghost said to me .

    "The same for me. Certainly didn't expect to find him with one of those tied to his neck." I stared at the collars that were being switched off and removed, shaking trembling limbs and pseudopods delicately touching their skin or scales for the first time in years. While there were plenty of moans of pain, of loss and despair, cries of joy were on the rise. Hopefully, they would drown the rest out by the end of today.

    "How is all of this possible? This space between spaces?" The emotionless voice conveyed from the ring that Rekinth typed into, joy and sadness warring inside his eyes, fingers twitching as he stared at medical instruments and tools. Looking as if he would bolt any second.

    "Something tied down to me." I shrug my shoulders as he stares at me and glances towards the clones running around us. "Them too, along with… certain other things."

    I leave it at that, and finally get us into a room, sitting him down into one of the more comfortable chairs that he all but throws himself into. Tired, ringed eyes closing as if he was about to go to sleep before he sat back up straight in his chair.

    "If you wish to rest, know that we won't hold it against you." Ghost said softly as he materialized next to me, hovering down close to the former prince's eye level.

    "We do not have time for that-uh, what is your name? Ah, right. We had been so busy that the thought of introducing myself didn't even occur to me.

    "Xavier Wraithwight. Scavenger turned freak of nature." To illustrate my point I shift into my Changeling form, only I got the opposite reaction that I'd been expecting. Instead of jumping or leaning back in a muffled scream, the gold ringed horned prince leans in, eyes open far wider than before while his golden orbs zipped inside his eyeballs. As if they were bouncing balls launched at high speeds and dropped into a room with no signs of stopping.

    "How?" Was the only thing that he asked, piercing eyes practically stabbing me.

    "I think that we are the ones that should be asking the questions here, don't you think? There are, after all, assholes to deal with outside here. And the sooner that we deal with that, the sooner that we can deal with actually healing everyone that needs it." To his credit, he doesn't hesitate to nod enthusiastically, gesturing towards his mouth, before pointing to his stomach.

    "Already on it." One of my clones said as… I?- stepped into the room, an enormous plate easily the size of his torso in his hands with Stoneback bacon, baked potatoes, along with some sauce that smelled oddly sweet drizzled on top, a glass of water in one hand. Rekinth's nose twitches while his stomach growls, and I'm fairly sure that he was drooling underneath those bandages.

    "Wait, how is he going to eat if he has those bandages around hi-" Ghost cuts himself off as Rekinth simply sticks a finger into his food and… we just watch it disappear into it. Like a vacuum sucking up dust.

    Right, I made magical flames come out of rings, I'm not going to even try to comprehend how that works. He releases a moan of incomprehensible pleasure that might have made me uncomfortable if I could bring myself to care.

    With a happy sight, the still thin, but now much livelier, Korinthian went up to his mouth and started undoing the bandages, using his longer nails – more like claws -to better cut through them.

    "Should we stop him?" Ghost asked, but I just wave him off. There was a reason why I had that clone making that huge meal.

    The last strip of white fabric comes loose, and while the holes remain there, they are no longer clotted with blood, or in the proverbial air of getting infected. Instead, they looked as if they'd had at least a few weeks to heal, the smallest of them bare dots on his scaleless skin. Emaciated no longer, he leaned back in his seat, and gave me a smile, a brilliant wide thing that looked… human.

    Very, very human. Then he raised a peace sign and bowed while sitting down. "Thank you very much, Wraithwight-sama, this humble one is in your debt."

    Urgh, I always hated the extremely polite ones. The real ones, not the ass-kissers. Made it harder to mess with them without feeling bad about it. He was… beyond strange for supposedly being the prince, but I suppose that kinda stuff can wait till after I go cull a slaving racist faction and take back the planet.

    Plenty of time to worry about anything else. One day, Refuse, I would explore your depths and uncover what lay beneath you. But, much as it pained me, I couldn't do it now.

    "You weren't raised by your parents, were you?" I asked, remembering something he'd mentioned, his teacher or some such.

    "No. Their attention was more on my brother, Rokunth. The warrior instead of the scholar." I was surprised at how… little bitterness there was in his voice. How little care shone in his eyes as he said those words.

    "So, twin?" I asked.

    "Yes. A secret that was only shared amongst the royal family." He nodded his head, while flopping back down into his chair.

    Explained why his former master never mentioned anything about it during his more… enthusiastic beratings of the royal families. Though… "So, he's the one that would uh- take 'unruly' slaves back in the Empire."

    For the first time, disgust rolled across the thin Korinthians features. "Monster would enjoy forcing some of the more 'useful' bioengineer slaves to conduct his little displays of cruelty and amusement."

    "I'm surprised that either of you are even here. Didn't think that anything would ever cause someone in the royal family to get sent here." While time was valuable, I at least could spare some here. After all, one minute outside was over five in here.

    "Well, when one of the brothers keeps trying to escape to human space, and the other one has been selling Empire secrets the Holy Guardians, the greater Imperial court isn't going to be leaning towards leniency." A wicked smile spread across the calm face at that. "Of course, it probably didn't help that I knew far more about his operations than he thought I did. Very unpleasant business that."

    "Why punish you both though? It wasn't like you were accomplices. Right?" Ghost asked, to which Rekinth scoffed.

    "It's more that they didn't want the fact they hid one a member of the royal line to go public, especially since I was trying to betray the Empire for those 'filthy stubborn humans'." He looks like he's about to spit to the side, looks around where we are at, and swallows whatever he was gathering in his mouth.

    "Why hide it in the first place though?" Ghost bobbed a bit, no doubt he would placing his hand on his chin if he had one right now.

    "Politics. Let's leave it at that, it's unimportant now." Rekinth waved away with a dismissive hand, slowly standing up, using one hand to grab onto the chairs arm to sustain him.

    "I'll get some more food before I go poof." The clone says with a sigh, and walks out the door, clean plate in hand.

    "Listen, you need your rest, even with the healing that gave you, you still aren't strong enough to walk around." Ghost tried to advise him, but Rekinth shook his head.

    "From what I saw, Wraithwight-sama, you need every pair of hands you can get. And I suspect that the numbers are only going to increase." I don't wince or move at that, nodding instead. "I'm going to suspect that I'm probably also the leading expert in various different studies of biology, specifically xeno-biology across various species?" Again, I nod. "Then you need me."

    "Which is why we are getting you more food." I said evenly, walking towards him and leading him back towards the chair, to which he doesn't protest. "Only way that you can heal is to consume more biomass, and unfortunately, I didn't think to grab any of the Rokarthians for you to chow on." Rekinth suddenly looked incredibly sick, as if the mere thought made him want to hurl right then and there. "Or not, it's your choice in the end." I knew there were other's that had joined us during the raids that were of the same opinion of 'eating' another intelligent being. "So, sorry, but you can't rest right now, even after being stuck under your brother's thumb for so long."

    "I wouldn't have it any other way." His voice is clear, and resolute, eyes hard and staring back into my own black voids. "I might have been enslaved during the time, but it does not excuse what I have done, or the blood on my hands. If I have to slave away for a hundred, no, thousands, of years to wipe away any of the blood on my hands, I will. Gladly, with a smile on my face. I wouldn't be able to mourn Hiroshi properly if I didn't."

    "Was that your teacher?" Rekinth nods at Ghost's question.

    "He was the one that taught me the basics of biology, and set me on the path of mastering as many fields of it as I could. He also taught me much of your home, of Earth. Your culture and various beliefs. Of the horror days that was the Empty Century, and the renewal of the Great Forestation."

    "That's something that we can talk about later. For now, I have some… things to get done." Primarily making sure that as many people survive this nightmare as possible.

    "Of course. And… thank you. For talking me out of there. While you have done much for me, I would like to make a request, even if I don't deserve it." He lowered his head again, refusing to look me in the eyes.

    "Oh?"

    "If you find my brother, if you find Rokunth, don't let him live. Kill him the moment that you find him." There was something unsettling about the hatred in his voice. About the swelling, barely contained rage that he held as he spoke his own brother's name. "For the things that he's done, not only limited to me, but to close in his attempts to sate his ambition, he deserves to die. And he has survived more assassination attempts than you would be likely to believe."

    "I'd have done it, even if you didn't ask." I said as I walked towards the door, fastening the box emblazoned with the symbol of the bull moose at the front to my belt.

    With that, I leave the Korinthian to his rest, passing by my clone as he ran back inside with an even bigger plate than last time, steam and succulent scents of meat and vegetables wafting into my nose.

    "You're being far more trusting than I thought you would be." Ghost said conversationally as we passed through the crowd in my workshop.

    I shrug. "I just don't think that he's lying. I've never met a Korinthian like him, and most of them don't bother learning anything about Earth customs or culture."

    "Right, the whole honorifics and peace signs that he was throwing around." Weeb. A voice much like my own whispered into my head, one from a life that I couldn't quite remember yet. "Though, your instincts on people being truthful have been a lot more accurate since you gained those flames. Far more so than during our life together, Guardian."

    "Reading people is easier now. Harmony has a tendency to do that." I say offhandedly, the flame singing into existence on my finger before disappearing again. Using the flame, understanding it and what it was telling me, was a struggle in and of itself.

    A feeling that was always there, if only I just listened to it. I still didn't get everything, but that was something that would come with time. While the Box Weapon was another piece of tech that was still beyond my understanding, it didn't mean that it was beyond my repair.

    Took a lot longer than i thought possible, but here it was. Whole, cleaned, and ready for use.

    Well, who was I to say no to some harmonic mayhem?

    Hearing the screaming, the pleas for help, and the horror of being stuck in that damn tomb they called a fortress of those unfortunate enough to have been caught by the Korinthian brought back memories. One's that I wished had remained forgotten, both in this life and others.

    "Five minutes and forty seconds, boss." My clone says to me as I step out through the gateway, closing it behind me.

    I look at him and say the word that would raze this place to the fucking ground. "Express." He nods and disappears without a word. High above the sky, still in the atmosphere, a dozen airborne blimp carriers open their hatches and deploy every single Walker and Strider that is on hand. Each one plummeting at controlled speeds right onto the key buildings and areas that we had observed over the past few weeks.

    None of them would hit the main Fortress, but that's where I came in.

    Melina was already spread across the necropolis, clones scattered all over, freeing what slaves she could while waiting for the signal to escape. It came when the first Walker shook the earth, unleashing a torrent of incendiary rounds the size of my arm onto the wings containing those biocreations.

    I knew that portals would be appearing all over the 'city' leading what innocents we could out of this damned place.

    Harmonic Chaos, I think that I quite liked that name. An orange singing flame ignites on my finger before it presses down into the hole in the center of the boxes face. The hatch opens down the middle, coalescing singing flames blasting out and forming into a creature that had almost an entire foot over me, horns included.

    It had four legs that ended in hooves, brown glossy fur practically shining as it's flaming horns shook with its head as its eyes blinked as if it had been asleep. A long face with a large snout at the end looked at me with peacefully, deceptive brown eyes. I knew that he was just waiting to on a rampage. Around the spear like points of his horns were different rings, each one engraved with a different symbol, while others remained blank. I recognized the symbol for Konoha amongst them, the interlocked triangles of the Warlocks a bare blurry thing, but they're all the same. More and more that became clearer with each passing, death blazed with orange singing flames, memories taking form in the image that was the friend I'd made.

    The box itself wasn't one of Geopetti Lorenzo's original designs. No, I could tell by the sheer complexity in the biology of this Bull Moose that Verde, Innocenti and Koenig had nothing to do with this one.

    No, this was an original creation of mine. The very first box weapon created by someone other than the original three. Innocenti and Verde were long dead in that world, with Koenig having gone into hiding, selling what he could to keep his head around his neck.

    Good times, the Mafia were not. Especially not that one.

    Even while he walked towards me and nuzzled into my neck, I couldn't help the irritation at the back of my neck. He was incomplete, when I knew that he had been complete before I'd moved on from that world. A certainty of fact that was spat upon by whatever laws this damned bracelet worked.

    His full potential was less sealed away, more than just not there. He was at the base he had been at in the first stages, future progressions blocked and my memories gone. Well, it was something that I would just have to work on in the future. For now…

    "Come one Hearth, let's go burn this place down." If only people could understand the rage that rested inside those innocent brown eyes. There would be fewer deaths across the multiverses of America that way.

    Instead of climbing on top of him, I run alongside him, manifesting a few… choice guns that I had made with one of my latest acquisitions. Slabs of metal with miniature tubes of concentrated air instead of the bulky, heavy things that I had grown accustomed to making.

    "Let's get this mission done, Guardian." I couldn't help but smile at those old familiar words.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Acolyte said:
    Yes, terrorists do terrible things, what do you want me to say about that. Like human terrorists capture and kill people and we don't do shit.
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    The fact that non-Wizardry Governments probably can't do anything about this specific group of terrorist because of a long-standing information blackout. Just for an example, the Roberts Family who's land was used for the Quidditch World Cup gets multiple memory charms by the Ministry to maintain the Statute of Secrecy, and then Death Eaters torture the family after Cup is over. That Family isn't getting compensated, and they could have died through no fault of their own; because they were close by to a unknown problem.
     
    Actually why the fuck am I defending rowlings works. I despise her. Its reflex from reading too much grey! Harry or independent! Harry fanfics back in the day.


    Go off xavier, burn that world to the fucking ground I am with you.
     
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    Acolyte said:
    Yes, but masquerade wouldn't have saved the family either way. When prepared terrorists break into your home and kidnap you, then it doesn't matte if they are human or wizards. A gun is just as dangerous as a wand in this case.
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    Sure, but generally speaking criminal or terrorist elements don't have access to reality warping powers, nor mind control. The amount of damage that can be done by a person with access to magic is disproportionate than a gun.

    Though, I believe my frustration lies with that fact that Rowling's politics shine through in her work, and retrospective look at Harry Potter leaves….a lot to be desired.
     
    RookDeSuit said:
    Sure, but generally speaking criminal or terrorist elements don't have access to reality warping powers, nor mind control. The amount of damage that can be done by a person with access to magic is disproportionate than a gun.

    Though, I believe my frustration lies with that fact that Rowling's politics shine through in her work, and retrospective look at Harry Potter leaves….a lot to be desired.
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    Acolyte said:
    Actually why the fuck am I defending rowlings works. I despise her. Its reflex from reading too much grey! Harry or independent! Harry fanfics back in the day.


    Go off xavier, burn that world to the fucking ground I am with you.
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    I agree, its just old habits.
     
    RookDeSuit said:
    The fact that non-Wizardry Governments probably can't do anything about this specific group of terrorist because of a long-standing information blackout. Just for an example, the Roberts Family who's land was used for the Quidditch World Cup gets multiple memory charms by the Ministry to maintain the Statute of Secrecy, and then Death Eaters torture the family after Cup is over. That Family isn't getting compensated, and they could have died through no fault of their own; because they were close by to a unknown problem.
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    To chime in, the previous snippet of the Harry Potter life was intentional in mentioning that 'they don't listen'. Think about this way. Xav at this point has lived so many lives before that one, and has lived in times around our own, which is only like two or three decades ahead of the world. In the world that we have, it would have been impossible for the Wizarding community to remain completely hidden, no matter what Rowling says. Satellite, computers, the internet, cameras, etc. Now, Wizards could learn to make countermeasures, but remember, most think that it's a waste of time to understand muggles or the technology that they use.

    It was originally done to laugh at the 'mundanity' of normal life, but when taken into the broader context displays a very bleak future for what remains of the magical community. Most Wizards pretend that muggles aren't real, or that Wizards are above them, which is where Death Eaters start to be created. Not to mention how casual most Wizards are with casting spells on unsuspecting muggles.

    Now, all of this was frustrating, but not something for Xav to want to burn the world to the ground. Then they're kids died. The only children that Xav has had up to this point, while also being an Orphan in most live's they've lived. Any parent would want to go on a rampage spree if they're kid died, now take into all the trauma and lack of love and affection that Xav has experienced in most of they're lives.

    Also, I'm not going to deal with any of the house elf slavery defendants, so if anyone starts spouting that crap, you can move the fuck on cause I'm ignoring you. I dealt with enough of that tripe in Celestial's Entertainment.
     
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