The Return of Rasa Sayang (The Child of the Spire)
Posted 19 September 2009 - 12:29 PM
Chapter 1: Rebirth of Chaos
Ron and Dawn Parker were your average retiree couple; three kids, six grandkids, a nice pension and retirement fund. Ron, a former military general had been around the globe and back. He was a mild mannered and orderly man: disciplined, controlled, yet a loving husband. He had promised his wife that they would travel the world together one day and always remembered Bali as one of his favorite locale for excursion. She didn’t ask for much, but he was never intent unless providing her with the best. Funny thing about good intentions…they make great pavement on the road to hell.
Bali, Indonesia: A tropical paradise of sandy white beaches, luxuriant jungle expanse and mountain scenery. It was a day to remember at the newly renovated Sayang Hotel: the kind of day that breeds nostalgia: a day that a visiting family would remember forever. A cool sea breeze whisked throughout the bustling crowd congregating for that evenings festivities. The aroma of fine Indonesian cuisine followed in hot pursuit. The chattering buzz was soon halted however by a boisterous drumming. The Sayang had always been known for its dazzling cultural performances; today was no different. As the night progressed, the multitude; a mixture of employees, businessmen, tourist and the like, all began to congregate in front of a small platform built for the evening’s entertainment.
As the percussions rumbled, several young Indonesian girls adorned in bright gold and azure wardrobe processed from behind the Sayang. Smiling, they aligned themselves in a row as a well dressed announcer approached a podium nearby. The hum of the crowd died down as the young man cleared his throat and spoke to the crowd. As he spoke, the low drum coupled with his monotone chatter seemed to mesmerize the spectators. Everyone seemed to sway calmly to the hum. The sound slowly lulled Ron into a near trancelike state. “RayaSayang.”, he suddenly whispered. Dawn glanced at him puzzlingly. “What?” Dawn questioned. She noticed him drifting in and out of sleep. Dawn stared completely confused. It was not like Ron to snooze in midday. “RayaSayang.” He repeated. With a gentle nudge, Dawn roused him to consciousness. “Wha?!...sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He stated. Minutes later, the young girls are introduced to the audience. “Ah…I believe our performers are ready.” The announcer proclaimed proudly. “Now, they will bring you a traditional song of love and joy. It is the trademark song of our superior resort hotel, the Sayang. Without any further hesitation, it is our honor to introduce to you…the Rasa Sayang.”
Applause flooded the night and then a hush as the familiar drumming beat swelled in intensity. In time with the rhythm: the girls sang, dance and sway in a brilliant show of synchronicity. The precision and order of the dance was unbelievable. Dawn’s mouth hung open in awe, “How wonderful.” She proclaimed. Ron smiled; pleased with himself. The beat persisted and soon the entirety of the mass was transfixed on the performance. An utterly faultless arrangement, until suddenly one of the young dancers shuddered. Whispered gasps were heard throughout the audience. Taken back that such synchronicity was halted by a single blemish. Regardless, the dance continues. Moments later…another child’s head jolts backwards, “Raya Sayang!” she shouted. Again, the assembly looks astonished.
“RayaSayang.” Someone else said in the audience. Another voice shushed the interruption as the dance carried on. A look of concern fell on Dawns face, “Did you hear that Ron?” she asked. “Hear what, dear?” He barely managed to register, still transfixed on the dance. “Raya Sayang? What is that?” Ron looked at her confused. “It’s the name of the dance, honey. Now pay attention.” Dawn mulled over this, she was sure the name of the song was something different. Bothered, she decided not to become hysterical and finish the show.
Finally in the closing stages of the dance, the tempo increased two fold. By this time, the crowd is completely enthralled. Strangely, the drummer faltered a step…then again. Subsequently, the entire rhythm began to fall apart. Dawn looked around and noticed everyone dancing off kilter. The once clear night sky became an eerie red. A once methodical drumming became completely disorganized. Dancers began to bump into one another. “Rayasayang.” Someone muttered…and again. “What the hell is going on?” she cried to her husband. She nearly stumbled backwards upon inspection of his appearance. His body was stark white. As he turned his head, it shook and tremored wildly, she could barely make it out. “Rayasayang Rayasayang Rayasayang Rayasayang Rayasayang!!” He bawled loudly. Unexpectedly, the entire horde followed suit. “Rayasayang Rayasayang Rayasayang Rayasayang!!” Dawn shrieked. “LORD HELP ME!” she shouted as he approached her with hands outstretched. “NO!” He returned in a voice that is not his own. The ethereal voice whispered and screamed simultaneously. Effeminate in nature, yet masculine; it haunted Dawn to her core. She screamed into the night to see the man she loved in this state. Her boisterous outburst was completely drowned out by the symphony that was chaos. With her mind clouded in madness, she languidly gazed in the direction of the nearby waters. As she succumbed to unconsciousness, she questioned if the little girl that suddenly emerged from the deep really existed.
“Bloodbath…” Detective Graves utters as he surveys the scene that was the Sayang hotel. He cringes as his nose catches the pungent, rancid smell of death. With many years in the field, Graves is no stranger to mortality. He thoroughly remembered the terrorist attacks of 02, however, this is different. His home country of Australia already ranked Bali at a danger level four on a one to five scale. But still, this was beyond his mind’s capacity to understand. Upon arriving most of the police force stood rapt for minutes before even beginning to proceed.
From staff to residents, the entirety of the Sayang lay dead scattered across the surroundings in no discernable manner. The word Raya Sayang is written hundreds of times from corner to corner of the hotel: in blood, scratched with fingernails and burned into the grass. Body parts hang from trees looking as if they’d been pulled from the body with bare hands. The hotel itself smolders from being burnt to the ground. Local police dart in and out of the crime scene. Some try to keep out the horde of reporters that snap away trying to get the money shot. It is of no use. Every snap of the horrific panorama was that shot. “What in god’s name happened here?” The Australian’s thinly veiled accent fades away unanswered when suddenly, “Chaos, my good sir.” Graves peers towards the distinctly European voice. An eccentric appearing man stands before him. Wearing a bright red sarong and a contrasting blue peci over his black hair, the gentleman seems to be unable to stand still. “Stay behind the barrier sir.” Graves insists. The man smiles flamboyantly and theatrically flashes a card that reads: Matthias Xiamos, Spiritual Consultant/Master Psychic. “Master psychic, huh…stay behind the barrier please!” Graves pushes the stranger behind the blockade. His first thoughts are that the foreigner is a swindler hustling tourist with local lore.
“The natives seem to think this is the work of the Ogoh-Ogoh, you know?” Xiamos declares. “That’s great.” Graves states angrily. The statement further reinforces Graves’ thoughts of the man. Yet despite Graves’ disposition, he lingers near the spiritualist. Though he had surveyed the gruesome display for most of the day, he was at a lost for motive. Moreover, the stranger’s eerily odd whimsy was a welcomed departure from the gory spectacle. “What’s coming is much worse than the Ogoh-Ogoh…” Xiamos says. Graves’ interest is slightly peeked by the comment. A concerned look comes across his face. “Okay hit me, mate. What’s coming?” Xiamos smiles and begins to tell his tale…
“Her name was Rasa Sayang…” He begins, but is immediately stopped by an inquisitive Graves. “Who is “her” and why was she named after a song?” Xiamos seems bothered by the interruption, “Merely coincidence, now please let me finish!” Graves crosses his arms grumpily, “Sorry…finish.” Xiamos continues, “Her name was Rasa Sayang: The Harbinger of Chaos.” But once again before he can conclude…“Chaos!?” Graves interrupts again. Matthias glares in great disapproval. “Sorry…finish.” Graves repeats in a huff. The two begin to walk away from the crime scene as Xiamos continues.
“…As a representative of Chaos, Rasa Sayang would cross the threshold into the corporeal realm. She would act as harbinger of those entities that would seek destruction to all things.” Graves looked confused. Paying no heed, Xiamos continued. “She was the ultimate herald of the end times.” Whether from boredom or an odd fascination for the unexplained, Graves began to take a slight interest in the conversation. “Okay really, what’s with the name? Rasa Sayang…Raya Sayang? She’s some sort of Indonesian goddess, right?” he queries. “NO!” Xiamos shouts irately. “Never something so inconsequential: she is primordial.” Xiamos says. His earlier cheery disposition clearly faded. “She is the personification of the wrath of the universe. Her disarray is always in direct conflict with the natural order. In the beginning of every new rotation of existence, she is born anew. From a child she grows into maturity, until she is able to oversee the apocalypse once more.” Graves sighs in disbelief. “So the Ooga Booga is back and she’s ripping apart tourist for fun?” he says. “SHE IS NOT THE OGOH-OGOH! SHE IS ALLPOWERFUL!! SHE IS VENGEANCE…” Xiamos roars furiously and then continues in a sinister whisper. “…and she is now Raya Sayang: Bringer of Chaos.”
Finally Graves’ hospitality has come to an end. Grabbing Xiamos by the collar, he lifts him nearly off the ground. “Okay look mate, if you know anything about this…this incident, speak now or get the hell out of here!” Xiamos smiles wickedly. “Her job was not finished as Rasa Sayang. She was engulfed by the Void.” He says. “The void?” Graves questions. “In the beginning, there was nothing…the void.” Graves shrugs; his patience wearing thin. Still clutching Xiamos by the collar, he assert, “Look, I don’t want the bible. I want the answers…” Xiamos grimaces and interrupts abruptly. “She has returned…weakened, but vengeful. Order has reigned too long and reciprocity must be had by any means necessary.” Graves sighs again, having heard enough of Xiamos’ lunacy. Lowering Xiamos back to his heels, he mutters under his breath. “Master psychic huh...more like psycho.”
Xiamos does not reply, instead he hunches over and begins to chuckle bizarrely. “That’s Master Psychic Psycho to you.” He whispers sinisterly. Graves leans in closer, “What did you say?” Swiftly Xiamos lunges forward and grabs Graves’ forehead. Graves is suddenly flooded with an onslaught of mental visions. Frozen in place, he begins to drool as his mind tries to comprehend the dizzying images. Mental pictures of death, cities burning and utter bedlam completely dwarf the crime scene before him. In the midst of it all, an unclear apparition of a young girl glares ominously. Surrounding her are a mob of men and women of all shapes and sizes each chanting the words, Raya Sayang. Louder and louder the chant continues as the images become more vivid and destructive until suddenly…black.
Graves collapses onto Xiamos. Quickly, he hoists Graves’ arm around his shoulder as to not draw attention. Having walked far enough away from the crime scene with Graves, the two go unnoticed. Carrying the body as if the two were old friends walking and talking together, he whispers in Graves indifferent ear, “Ah, what a scene. You see, this whole affair had to be. Order is a façade that must be squelched. It was pointless of you to try to make sense of the senseless. With that being said, I’m sorry to tell you that I lied. My real name is Marshell Percy. The man that was Xiamos pulls off his cap with black wig attached and reveals his blond hair. “Honestly Graves, I’ve always wanted to play a detective.” Marshell shoves Graves into the back seat of a car and makes a daring escape. His laughter barely heard over the chaos behind them.
Posted 01 December 2010 - 09:01 PM
This wasn’t where he wanted to be. There were too many people – too many witnesses. It was Super Hero Appreciation Week (SHAW) in Khazan City and the town was full of tourists. Jason Redfield happened to be one of those visitors. However, his trip was not due to pleasure. It didn’t help that the noisy Toho Bar on Main Street in which he sat was known for its lively happy hour crowd. Furthermore, happy hour in the Toho was indeed that…Happy. Since these hours were karaoke hours the multitudes, tired from their work days, were eager to celebrate SHAW. Jason Redfield did not share in this sentiment and he knew any disturbance to this working class throng’s relaxation would not go over well. But, Jason was here on business and deadly business at that.
Jason had been tracking the criminal known as Koji Ito for weeks since he had heard of his arrival in Khazan City. He had first taken notice of the elusive criminal during his years with the C.I.A. What he knew was that Ito had killed many and it had been rumored that he was affiliated with some strange new sect with a zeal for destruction. Once he had heard through his rather unofficial channels that the outlaw was presumably in town, he didn’t hesitate to pick up the scent. For this reason, he sat in a bar he wouldn’t normally frequent and he watched a man who had no good reason for being there. He frequently peered across the bar waiting for the perp to leave on his own terms. Then, he would wait for night to fall and he would make his move.
Across the bar…
“I can smell him…” Koji Ito sniffs the smoke filled air. Next to him, Dr. “Keijo” Namura watches him, wondering if he is really getting a whiff of his opponent’s scent or are these theatrics some sort of abstract test. “He is close. Are you ready?” Keijo looks around clueless. She knows that Koji informed her that they were being followed, but he never informed her of who the perpetrator was. Is she supposed to know? Should she do something? She thinks, but she doesn’t act. Koji sees her perplexed face and smiles. “Look, there in the corner. Do you see him?” Keijo slowly turns her head and immediately spots Jason sitting in a cozy corner spot. He is the only person in the entire bar that doesn’t seem to be enjoying himself. He is the only patron that seems decidedly sober. In a very obvious attempt to appear inconspicuous, he quickly looks down at the ground. “That’s right, hero…you’ve been made.” Koji quickly rises to his feet and unceremoniously waltzes straight for the now extremely surprised Redfield. Keijo’s face drops, “What am I supposed to do?” She screams. Koji turns and smiles a Cheshire grin, “Try not to die.”
To be continued with newly written material from the Clash of Khazan RP. Click for details on the fight ( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=7208 )
Posted 02 December 2010 - 08:46 PM
Dusk was fast approaching. The Fallen member known as Perish sat perched atop a mountain high skyscraper with binoculars in hand. Intently, he surveyed the ground below. The city streets teemed with SHAW activity: Parades, costumes, food and a not so routine bar fight. He listened as the sirens rushed towards the busy tavern below. Inebriated patrons fell through the doors, some flew through the windows as flashes of destruction erupted below. ‘Such a chaotic savior’, Perish thought. His mind raced with contemplation at the reflection. ‘The emergency vehicles weren’t going to make it in time’, he thought. The battle was literally explosive. A lunatic hero had set off more bombs in the place than Forth of July in a heated battle with someone whom Perish was much more interested in. The lunatic hero’s foe was a parasite of a man Perish knew as Koji. But, it wasn’t Koji’s unnaturally evil bloodsucking abilities that fascinated Perish. It wasn’t his unflinching ability to cause chaos amidst a room full of innocents that attracted the villain. No. It was something much worse. It was something older, deadlier and far beyond the scope of these men. It was the Parasites affiliation with a being known as Raya Sayang.
In his never ending efforts to grow his own supremacy of the dark arts, Perish needed to find more about this Raya Sayang. He needed to find, learn more about and own its power as his own. Perish had noticed the increased fervor of disorder throughout the globe. He had felt the unnatural rise in psychosis in himself as well. This was no coincidence. The world would never piece together this anonymity. Perish however, relished in this whodunit. Therefore, he watched from above on this busy day. Blissfully enjoying the chaotic fight below that was attracting all the wrong attention.
Unbeknownst to the evil power-monger, was the vaporous apparition that also watched him. A. Vimes, ghost detective also sat rather restlessly atop the skyline. As a detective of the things otherworldly, Vimes had also noticed the rise in the unordinary and macabre. And it wasn’t long until he fell upon the trail of the plundering servant of the Fallen. Neither Vimes nor Perish really knew the full truth behind the essence of this chaos. Only that some of the most atrocious and terrifying events in history have been occurring in terrorizingly increasing accounts. After these events, one name was always present…Raya Sayang.
For this reason, they watched their leads. Perish observed the Parasite and Vimes observed the Fallen known as Perish. That was until Vimes heard the destruction below. He walked directly past the oblivious Perish and peered at the bar below. His investigation would have to temporarily halt. For now, was the time to be a hero. Another explosion rocked the ground below. And with it, Vimes lost concentration only momentarily. Perish fell back in shock as he briefly glanced the ghostly vision standing beside him. “Show yourself!” He shouted and before the ghoul could vanish, a searing palm smashed him in the back. Vimes turns to see a deadly serious Perish standing in a form Vimes knew as the Kung Fu Snake Style. Vimes again peers down at the implacable fight underside. He knew he could become intangible shortly and drop. However, he would have to return to his physical self at some point. He could be trapped beneath the Earth and the plunge was ridiculous. Even he would be shattered if he impacted. He would not die, but he did not like the prospects. Therefore, he turned reluctantly to fight his way to the exit.
( http://www.electricf.......c=7236&st=0 )
Posted 02 January 2011 - 05:04 PM
During SHAW, the Mall of Khazan usually held the best festivities in town. The air hummed of cotton candy and popcorn as corner vendors catered to the frenzied shoppers, hard earned money burning holes in their pockets. Meanwhile adults and children alike hustled and bustled impulsively, dressed as their favorite Khazanian heroes. In spite of this, one lone consumer sat nonchalantly in front of a small bookstore. Wearing a leisure suit and appearing to be an out of place college professor, he seemed very distracted. The book that he held was apparently uninteresting as he constantly gazed at oncoming bargain hunters between sentences. However, what really held his attention was the crowd that gathered at a central location in the mall before him. A series of cheers and laughs amongst the white noise finally made him drop the book and focus on the commotion. He beamed with a sinister grin.
Behind a hastily prepared partition, Shinjin and a few other new heroes from the Sentinels of Liberty and Justice (SLJ) stood anxiously. It was their big Khazanian SHAW debut. Traveling from a nearby city in California, Shinjin had never been to Khazan. He was made aware that as an SLJ member, a lot of his time would be spent here and so far he really loved the place. Honored as he was, he couldn’t help feeling like a primped up poodle in a dog show. Despite this, he reckoned it was a good feeling. That’s when he heard it – the name of the first hero in line. The announcer had begun and the heroes marched forward methodically. They were the highlight of the mall ceremonies. Usually, tourist from outside of Khazan had never seen actual Khazan heroes. Although the parents knew these were just a few noobs, the kids didn’t. As a result, Shinjin hit the stage and he couldn’t help but feel swollen with pride as the tweens went crazy as they called his name.
Suddenly, there was a stir in the crowd: seems like a few parents in a nearby store had begun to fight over the last Captain Khazan action figure. The SLJ members did not stir as a minor scuffle between moms didn’t herald a super hero effort. As the ceremony continued, another neighboring scuffle took place: this time two fathers began to fist fight for unknown reasons. More security ran to break the fight up. Additionally, Shinjin and a few others noticed that the original mom-fight hadn’t ended. In fact, the mall guards were now becoming heated. Abruptly, another scrap broke out in the pack right before them: Two kids skirmishing fitfully. Before the heroes knew it, the entirety of the surrounding area seemed to erupt. One hero leapt from his perch and flew to break up a fight, then another and another. Finally, Shinjin hurdled past the crowd and went to break up the guards and mothers who originally began this mess.
As he neared the chaos, a voice whispered nearby, “Well, you’re nothing but a kid.” Shinjin quickly turned to see a properly dressed older gentleman sitting calmly as the women tore at each other before him. “I was hoping to get one of the more intimidating heroes. Oh well, I hope you can provide more entertainment than the rest of the clouts.” Shinjin sternly frowned at the suspicious chap. “Please clear out from this area…” before he could finish, his mind began to cloud with anger. Quickly and with vigor he realized the problem, “You!” Before the mind tampering could take effect, Shinjin raised his staff and the surface smoldered with a cold glow.
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=7209 )
Back at the bar...
Drained, Exhausted and wounded beyond belief, Jason Redfield and Koji combatants fall to the ground...unconscious in the middle of the ruined bar. Sirens fill the air as the bar is immediately swarmed by police. By dusk, S.W.A.T. has secured the area. All civilians long exited. As they forcibly enter, only one man is laying in the floor in the eerily quiet room. Dust and a sick smell heighten the strangeness of the atmosphere. The man on the floor is immediately surrounded by guns. "They went that way..." He points to a back door. A bloody skid mark heralds the exit path of the evil duo. It is easily assessed that an individual has pulled another through the kitchen doors and down into the sewage drain outside the building. The S.W.A.T. looks around horrified at the maddening display of chaos. Leech-like creatures litter the floor, bullet holes swathe the walls and one man is left to explain. Jason Redfield is hurried into the back of an ambulance. First, his wounds will be tended to and then...the interrogations begin.
Meanwhile above the fray...
Despite his highly lethal and effective fighting skill; the villain known as Perish was outmatched in a field that mattered a great deal…strategy. Having taken the measure of his opponent early in the skirmish, the ghostly detective meticulously made short work of his foe. Although attacking like a viper, Perish never realized that A.Vimes was studying him, reading him and playing him like a fiddle. Any other man would’ve been hammered relentlessly by the onslaught. Vimes however, was no longer a man.
Striking fast with a few snake style jabs, Perish was soon surprised to see he was coughing blood. His psyche blurred with anger and confusion from his otherworldly opponent’s taunts and ethereal powers. The blood just added insult to injury. To make matters worse, he momentarily peered down to view his trickling life force and was brutally hit with a telekinetic blast to the face. Whirling backwards in bewilderment, Perish didn’t take notice of the small archaic booklet that fell from his pockets. Vimes did. “I’ll take that.” He said as he quickly snatched the item from the ground. With that, he hurried to the exit of the building before Perish’s senses came about him.
It was late; Vimes cursed himself as he realized that the sirens across the street had stopped. His opportunity for heroic endeavors at the neighboring bar had come and gone. At this point, he was sure that Khazanian police had the problem under control. This was all well and good, seeing that he had commandeered something to compensate. He quickly dashed down a stairwell and glanced into the pamphlet. It was as he suspected. Perish had been keeping a journal of his investigations into the Raya Sayang. Vimes quickly turned to the current date…inside the text made note of one of the combatants down below in the bar fight. A man named Koji. Even more beneficial was the fact that the passages alluded to Koji being associated with a name that was beginning to become synonymous with trouble: Raya Sayang. “It would seem that this Koji and Vimes would have to meet.” Vimes thought aloud. Phasing through walls and unto the street, Vimes viewed the surrounding police squad cars, S.W.A.T. and crowd. Shifting invisible, Vimes made his way inside the ruined bar.
Simultaneously at the Mall of Khazan...
Shinjin futilely attempts an ice slide, E. Yore calmly moves to the side. The now delirious hero continues to rise and fight a heartrending fight. The problem being, this fight is only in his mind. Yore's constant barrage of mental attacks completely sapping him of good sense, Shinjin swings wildly at the air as the mental threat known as Yore laughs at the chaos. Around him, the mall has become a mad house. So, intense in their own personal battles, the surrounding heroes don’t even notice the unfortunate scene.
Yore continues to toy with the hero and multiple others in the area until suddenly a thunderous thudding sound is heard. He turns to see a monstrously huge veteran member of the Sentinels veer the corner…then another and another. He decides a hasty retreat is in order. As he leaves and his influence wavers, Shinjin and dozens of others fall to the floor mentally and physically exhausted. With a final smile, he admires his work. His presence has been felt. His name is E.Yore.
To be continued with an all new piece of the puzzle that will showcase where the Actor's Guild has been and what they have been up to during this entire plot and an all new opening to the Monster from the Fathoms versus Robert Remington fight.
Posted 26 March 2011 - 04:47 PM
Mid-afternoon, weeks before S.H.A.W…
A ringing tried to perforate the predominate noise of a bustling Khazan City street...it failed miserably. The telephone booth was a machination that was on the endangered species list as far as modern technologies go. However this section of Khazan City, often known as the artistic sector was known for its vintage art-deco style. The booth was stylized with a classic nineteen forties panache. In essence, it looked like something from a Superman movie. In all honesty with what was to come to Khazan or better yet, the world, Superman would’ve been a welcome sight. But for now, a handsome young man answered the phone. It was a moment that would herald a nightmare.
Meanwhile, sitting in a nearby diner away from the noise were the odd couple of Koji Itto and Keijo Namura. As they discussed whatever thinking’s psychopaths may wonder upon, the handsome gentleman from the phone booth rushed towards the diner. Bursting into the eatery with a resounding ringing of the entrance door bell, the gentleman screamed into the mass of patrons, “I have a telephone call for Mr. Itto?” Koji Itto’s ears perked as he heard his name. Strange, he thought. He hadn’t received calls in a long time; even less from a public phone. In fact, he and Koji had long abandoned the usage of cell phones in the name of clandestineness. Koji smiled. He liked strange. “Is there a Mr. Itto in the building?” The man asked again. Itto rose, “That is me.” The man pointed towards the phone booth which had a receiver that lay off the hook waiting for him. “Thank you.” He said devilishly. “I’ll be right back.” He told Keijo and left. She frowned. Sometimes she wondered if he really had anymore idea of what was going on around them than she did. Regardless, his little bit of something was much better than her whole lot of nothing. So, she sipped her coffee, looked around a bit and waited patiently. Suddenly, the handsome gentleman sat beside her and smiled, “Is this seat taken?” He said mildly. Keijo gleamed.
Nearby, on the phone…
“Mr. Itto, I presume.”
“Who is this?”
“…A friend. Tell me Mr. Itto; are you truly devoted to Raya Sayang?”
“Who is this?”
Manners please, Mr. Itto. Answer me first and all will be revealed.
“Look whoever you are, don’t @#$% with me. I…”
“You’ll listen or the girl dies.”
Itto looks to the window of the diner to see the handsome man sitting across the table from Keijo. Quickly, he flashes a gun beneath the table which he has pointed directly at her. She smiles meekly and waves. Itto shook his head in exaggerated shame and embarrassment.
“You can kill her. Her fate is her own.”
“Kill her? I don’t want to kill her. She wants to kill you.”
Koji looks back towards the diner to find that Keijo and the handsome gentleman are missing. With a loud crack, there is a knocking at the phone booth. Startled, Koji turns promptly in irritation to find Keijo standing behind him. She knocks again persistently with the butt of a gun. Without warning, she turns the gun towards Itto and fires. “Dammit!” he yells as he drops to the ground. The shots fire high as if on purpose. A car nearly wrecks upon witnessing the scene. Spectators scream and run for cover. Meanwhile, Itto’s fists burst through the glass and in an instant he is throttling the neck of his former apprentice. She drops the gun, struggling to breathe. “Ack! Help Oldcastle! What are you waiting for?” She whimpers. “What is the meaning of this, you b!tch?” Itto yells, continuing to throttle her wildly. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, Quimby.” The handsome man known as Sir Angelo Oldcastle replies nearby. With his attention occupied, Itto’s answers come in the form of a gun butt to the back of the head. Oldcastle stares downward calmly as Itto blackens out at his feet. “I’m…going…ugh…kill you, b!tch…” He stutters as he falls. A van pulls up quickly. A coughing Sheryl Quimby disguised as Keijo Namura and Sir Angelo Oldcastle playing the handsome gentleman grab the unconscious body of Itto into the car, they bow and pull away hastily.
“I’m glad you so graciously decided to join us, Mr. Itto.” Percy jests. Itto snarls as he remains cuffed to a radiator with his partner in crime, Keijo Itto. Before him the Actor’s Guild stands like mad jackals before their prey. “…I join for Sayang, Percy….not you. Let’s just make that clear: I ain’t joining your little clown circus. I’m not into playing dress up.” Percy smirks sardonically. “Of course, Mr. Itto. Of course. Mr. Talbain, could you please release our friend’s restraints?” Mr. Talbain steps forward obediently. He uses a key in his possession to liberate Itto and Namura and no sooner does Itto spring forth like a leopard, backhanding Percy to the floor, “Now we’re even.” Keijo laughs at her partners antics as she rubs her sore wrists. “I don’t know. I kind of like the cute one. He was quite a gentleman for an abductor.” She says. Percy rises from the floor likewise gripping his chin and laughs heartily. “Indeed he is. Aren’t you two a pair? Truly, Sayang will prosper greatly from this alliance.” Percy proceeds to Itto and grasps him about the shoulders. They look down at the floor, which is adorned with ritualistic diagrams. “Through her way, she has shown us the road to chaos; Itto this is our time. Once we gather the proper sacrifices for her return, nothing can stop us. The streets will revel like never before.” Throwing his arm around Itto, the two begin to walk away from the crowd. “So go now, bring me the desultory effects needed for the ritual and I’ll meet you in Mexico. Let nothing stand in your way.” As Itto and Keijo leaves, he turns to see the Actor’s Guild fitted or fitting themselves in lab coats. He smiles and exits. There are several articles from various publications laying about the floor:
By Nakahama Yoshimura, Science Weekly Contributor/ 20XX
Long time evidence of a massive predator on the Japanese island’s of Izu has recently been confirmed. Still unidentified, what can only be considered as a Shark-Man was discovered during an expedition to the volcanic tropical getaway. For quite some time carcasses of sea life had been found with large bite marks. Local experts recognized the biting to be the work of sharks that dismember their prey by shaking them violently. However, no one would suspect the manner of Shark that would later be found. Located in the Philippine Sea, the area is home to the Mariana Trench, containing the deepest point on the planet. The sea area of Izu boasts a plentiful food supply in its waters making it an ideal home for the newly found beast. A recent rash of sightings of a Shark-Man prowling the seas had alarmed local fishermen. The large beast had been spotted rising to the surface with unmistaken characteristics of men; such as arms and legs…
Excerpt from Shark-Man Captured, but not without misfortune!
By Mary Hall, Khazan Today
Five were left dead today as the Shark Man of Izu Island was finally caught. “We came in with ten of the best men we could find. Five of those men are no longer with us. This great day is shrouded with tragedy.” Said Research Scientist John Odierno. The creature’s capture was based on long study and many failed attempts. Long known as the Monster from the Depths, the creature had been discovered 2 weeks ago. Within that 2 weeks, the creature had brought in huge groups of tourists all trying to get the shot of a lifetime. “The sheer amounts of people on the island hampered are efforts greatly. Those people were in danger everyday they inhabited that island.” Odierno said…
Excerpt from Monster from the Depths!
By Mary Hall, Khazan Today
Since the Japanese government has seized control, the current whereabouts of the creature are unknown as Japanese officials are keeping the entire affair completely confidential. Locally, Japanese government representatives have been seen talking to American nature experts at the Khazanian Wildlife Institute: A center known for its study of the more eccentric of nature’s inhabitants…
Excerpt from John Odierno interview
News Channel 5 Khazan City
Odierno: “They’ve stolen my life’s work. They’ve stolen my Shark-Man and I will not take this lying down. I’ve hired lawyers. I’ve hired…”
Reporter: “I see you’ve also hired a bodyguard. Are you worried that the Shark-Man will get loose? Do Shark’s usually seek retribution?”
Odierno: “We fought tooth and claw to apprehend that specimen. Shark’s have a exceptional sense of smell and I don’t think those half wits at the Institute have what it takes to keep the specimen constrained. I’ve seen what it can do first hand…”
Reporter: “Oh my! Your bodyguard…is it…is that..?!?”
Odierno: “Yes, it is a wolf-man. Special situations cause for special needs.”
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=7568 )
Continued from above link...
Rising from the disgusting muck of the cesspit, Robert Remington finally took a deep breath. It wasn’t minutes after tracking the monstrous beast into the sewers when Remington was assaulted face-to-face. The tussle was fierce, quick and decisive. With massive strength that rocked the surface above, the two titanic beasts rumbled. But fortunately, only one would rise through the manhole cover beyond. “Well?” Dr. Odierno was heard saying. Remington looked around. He wasn’t too keen on being in the limelight, but the streets were filled with people and a small camera crew that Dr. Odierno had hired to accompany him on his apprehension of the shark-man. He grimaced as the camera’s flashed, “Its done buddy. He’s down below…sleeping like a baby.” The Doctor quickly pushes past Robert and squeezes down the hole, camera men in tow. “Don’t just stand there my dear boy…come on. We’ve got to get this thing back to headquarters fast.” Remington looks befuddled at the comment. “Roger that, but with so much media attention on this whole debacle…is that a good idea?” He replies. The Doctor smiles as he summons one of his assistance to pull up a nearby van, “My dear boy, I have more than five facilities across the world. Khazan isn’t the center of the universe, you know. At least two of my labs are not in your local phone book, so to speak.” The doctor smirks and slides down the hole. “Tell me my boy, have you ever been to Mexico?”
Chapter 3: Even the Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men...
It had been two weeks since the events of SHAW had transpired. Local and national media coverage had begun to tie in the occurrences in Khazan to the many odd incidents that were likewise occurring across the world. War had broken out in Korea, a Raya Sayang cult had committed mass suicide in Arizona, and massive hurricanes killed hundreds in the Gulf, the Shark-Man of Izu Island discovery and many, many more. People were beginning to wonder were these the end-times. Conspiracies were being formed, enemies were being made and lines were being drawn and still one name loitered amongst it all…Raya Sayang. Now, our story leads us to Mexico.
It was here that the up and coming hero Shijin had been called by the forces of the SLJ to investigate a mysterious murderer by the name of Xochitl Cuauhtli. This killer was high priority to the super hero foundation after being suspected in the recent death of a SLJ veteran. The departed had left a journal which was found when his remains washed ashore in the Bahamas. Shijin had read the journal, it was not re-assuring. However, the massive SLJ chaperone that accompanied him was. Although Shijin’s last run in with a criminal super villain had left him and a few other inexperienced members slightly discomfited, the SLJ was bound and determined to turn him into a fighting powerhouse. This time, his chaperone would see to that.
Meanwhile below deck, a group of criminals sit quietly in holding cells. The quarries are victims of extraordinary rendition to Cuba’s Guantanamo Bay: criminals, terrorist suspects and radicals. However, Unbeknownst to the heroes above, they are being transported for what some critics would call torture by proxy. Amongst them is the anti-hero known as Jason Redfield. He sits quietly amongst the “scum of the Earth” he hates. Shifting in his seat, he has been suspected in involvement with the activities of the Raya Sayang. The mere thought repulses him. He cringes to know that his prey, Koji Ito, escaped his grasp and now he has been labeled a terrorist. And so, he waits seething with anger on his chance for redemption.
It had been minutes since Shijin had awoken from his nap; the long trip taking the toll on him at numerous occasions. He peered over at the rocky SLJ escort who was also sleeping soundly. His snores shook the seats. The tranquil peace was ruined quickly however as Shijin noticed something strange on their onboard GPS. “Sir! Sir!” He screamed at his companion. “What boy? What must a man do to get some sleep…” but before he could finish, Shijin had shoved the GPS in his face. “We are way off course sir! We were supposed to stop in Cuba and then head to back to Mexico. We've turned around. We are heading back away from Cuba." The mighty SLJ quickly rises and takes notice of their directional location. Before Shijin is completed, he clears his throat and lunges forward towards the cockpit. “Hey! Hey up there! Where the hell do you think you’re going?” With a simple shrug, the giant breaks the locked door open. A sinister scene unfolds as the giant man notices the pilot is in the co-pilot seat, bloodied and dead. “What tha…!?” Suddenly, the hijacker nose dives the plane towards the Earth. The huge man tumbles backwards towards the rear of the plane. Below deck, armed guards fall over as the restrained criminals brace themselves. “I’ll see you below Sunsucker! The hijacker cackles maniacally as his seat ejects from the plane, launching him into the blue skies above.
Without hesitation, Shijin leaps to his staff. With all his might, he channels the power of the White Tiger – the power of magnetism. Shijin quickly seizes control over the plane and it shudders in defiance. “The controls!” His Sentinel escort shouts. “You can’t handle the plane… direct the controls.” With meager seconds left until the aircraft hits the Earth, Shijin pulls back hard on the staff and heaves it upwards. “Fall!” He screams. “What?” The Sentinel returns. “Fall! It’s fate! The White Tiger corresponds with the season of fall!” He finishes. Perplexed, the Sentinel retorts. “Whatthehellareyoutalkingabout!! Shutupandpull!!”. Glancing forward, the sentinel notices that they are leveling out, but heading directly towards a massive Huastec ruins.
Moments later, Tampico Mexico…
“My god, what was that?” Doctor Odierno’s face turns blank as the power in his hidden facility goes down. Deep beneath an early mesa American Temple, the affluent doctor and philanthropist is seized with fear as his research laboratory is suddenly plunged in total darkness. Emergency lights and underground sirens flair in a euphoric display as guards rush to secure and investigate the disturbance. “Don’t just stand there my dear boy go help out.” He yells to his wolf-man assistant, Robert. Remington speeds from the room without hesitation only to be met with a collapsing wall of debris, which knocks him unconscious. Odierno turning to meet his aid's scream is suddenly met with his greatest fear. He breathes in slowly a putrid scent of sea water and festering carcassess. Before him stands the gigantic monster from the fathoms freed during the chaos from the labs of the good doctor. The beast exhales deeply and the doctor is pummeled with the putrefying smell once again. His last words are never heard or recorded.
The nearly indestructible Sentinel pulls himself from the rubble. Beneath him, Shijin mumbles weakly. “Get up son. You need to look for survivors. No time for dawdling.” Shijin looks up at the Sentinel and smiles. “…those criminals! What if they did survive? Then what?” The Sentinel frowns through his rock like features. “Right.” Shijin says. Rising up and stretching briefly, Shijin heads in the opposite direction of his counter-part. Immediately he notices several of the convicts heading towards a nearby temple. “Hold it!” He calls, freezing several in place. Meanwhile, a more agile criminal leaps over the beam and continues on foot. “I said freez…” His retort is met with an enormous explosion that rocks the area. The escapee immediately finds his getaway blocked by what can only be described as a giant fish…man. Shijin’s eyes go wide as he forces his senses to believe what he is seeing. Without delay, he begins to call for reinforcements until he notices his companion has run into the wilderness in pursuit of other criminals. “Great, he thinks as he notices the bound criminal squaring off against the beast. “The name’s Jason…Jason Redfield and I don’t want to die.” The anti-hero looks down at his handcuffs. Shijin makes a quick decision and freezes the cuffs making them brittle and easily broken. “Thanks.” Jason says as he instantly darts in the other direction. “Nice job Hero.” Shijin thinks as his target makes a getaway. Suddenly, the beast before him rushes towards Shijin, his rows of teeth frothing with hunger. Above them, a jovial Xochitl Cuauhtli plummets from the sky. “I told you I’d see you below Sunsucker!!” The mad man hisses as he cuts himself loose from his ejection seat. “This day just gets better and better.” Shijin whispers to himself as he readies for the incoming attacks. Unknown to him, Jason Redfield rummages through the downed military craft searching for weapons. He hits pay dirt and turns to the ensuing battle. “Let’s play.” He says, rushing to the fray.
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=7784 )
Posted 31 March 2011 - 01:00 AM
Posted 31 March 2011 - 03:33 PM
Posted 04 April 2011 - 03:10 PM
It had been only minutes since Edward Yore had left the commotion of the Mall of Khazan. The streets buzzed with activity. The air was filled with laughter as the Khazanian people enjoyed the festivities of SHAW. Despite this, a sense of dread permeated E. Yore’s consciousness. Additionally, the insipid joy of the people perturbed him greatly. It was rare for him to feel such self consciousness and hesitation, however something felt off beam. He hurried away from his delightful disaster at the Mall in such good spirits only to be met with this sudden trepidation and it bothered him to the highest degree.
Paralleling the sounds of the masses were police sirens wailing in various directions throughout the streets. Yore took immediate notice. Perhaps some more fun would bring him back to his old self, he thought to himself. Quickly, he changed his route for the squad cars disappearing in the opposite direction of the Mall. In his mind, he couldn’t help but feel as if something were tampering with his emotions as he had done so many others. He continued on faster towards his destination anxious to rid himself of the feelings.
In the cover of night, criminals Koji and Keijo followed behind in distant pursuit. “Can’t we just go home, Koji?” Keijo exclaimed, her body aching after the debacle at the bar. “Haven’t we done enough for tonight?” She continued. Koji flashed a glare that sent her into a silence. She followed closely behind him as he bled slowly onto the concrete. “Her work must be done.” He returned. Keijo scratched her forehead in contempt. “…but, who is she?” Keijo uttered almost noiselessly. “She is our benefactor and apparently you are not ready to find out or else you…would already know. Don’t worry little Keijo, with my help it will be in due time…in due time.” He repeated. Keijo almost fell into her thoughts, but more questions began to rush into her mind. “Okay, last question: Who is this guy? Why is this one important?” She managed to ask. Immediately, Koji’s face reddened. His perturbation was obvious, “We need to get to Mexico, Keijo. We are wanted criminals, Keijo. We need someone who can provide us with a safe passage to our destination, Keijo. She says he will do just fine, Keijo. Are their anymore questions, Keijo?”
“No.” She said, pouting at his unyielding defiance to go home and tend to their wounds.
“…and don’t worry about your honor scars. She will heal them over time. Just keep swimming little fish. Just keep swimming.” He said as they began to close the gap on E. Yore who was also getting closer to the very bar that the duo had so recently escaped. As they drew closer, Keijo furrowed her brow as she struggled to make out what seemed to be the figure of a little girl almost hovering across the ground…edging ever more rapidly towards Yore. Yore turned a corner and without hesitation, let out a yelp that was suddenly silenced. Despite his wounds, Koji hurried to the scene with Keijo in close pursuit. When they arrived on the scene, Yore stood frozen almost like an automaton. His eyes and mouth hung open as if he’d seen a ghost. Koji stared deeply into his eyes and asked,
“Do you have a passport?”
“Do you have a criminal record?”
“No...not yet” Yore said, smiling viciously. Apparently, the enigmatic man was no angel and whatever had yielded him had not taken that away from him.
“Do you have money to afford a trip to Mexico?”
“Good.” Koji said. “Very good… See Keijo, our benefactor will see to our needs. Come now.” He gestured to his partner and the zombie-like man. “Let’s go on a trip.”
Meanwhile, in the distance shrouded in darkness…
“Mexico?” A. Vimes says to himself as he lifts the invisibility disguising him. He looks down at the pamphlet recently recovered from the villain Perish. “…and the plot thickens.”
Two weeks later… Tampico, Mexico
“Down girl!” Koji whispered to his partner as a massive SLJ member rumbled through the thick jungle. They watched in awe as the foliage fell to him like grass before an elephant. Koji, Yore and Keijo all stared in bewilderment at the scene unfolding. Stomping his foot, the giant sent three men looking like escape convicts flying through the air. Likewise the trio hiding clambered across the ground, trying to regain footing and remain hidden. “What the hell did you get us involved in, Koji? What the hell is that thing?” His diminutive cohort sighed. The parasitic man looked at her puzzled. “I have no idea.” Peering down briefly as if listening to a far off voice, he looked back into her eyes and said, “Trust in Sayang, did she not heal our wounds, take care of our trip and lead us to our new beginnings.” Keijo shook her head wondering if the man had truly gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, the lumbering SLJ affiliate rumbled away deep into the opposite undergrowth. She turned her head away from him only to see Yore staring at her blankly. “…and just what are you looking at?” She pouted. Yore smiled back and pointed behind her and into the yawning woods. In the direction he pointed, she saw nothing. Yore spoke, “The fun is about to begin.” He smiled deeply and began to walk in the direction he pointed. Koji followed him without hesitation. Keijo frowned and began to hide in the undergrowth.
Vimes began to wonder if he had lost his touch as he saw the scholarly-looking gentleman with Koji and Keijo point directly at him. As the trio headed in his direction, he began to sense the strong psychic presence emanating from them. “Dear me. What to do now?” He thought. He backed up slowly and deliberately, calculating his next move as the three picked up pace. Suddenly, a crashing sound roared in the distance. “I’m going to murderize that damned Shark once and for all!” Robert Remington growled, leaping through the woods furiously. “Killmainhurtrendasunder!” He shouted to know one in particular as he sped forward right into the path of the three villains. As baffled as he was to see the strange trio in his path in the middle of the Mexican Rainforests, he was content with leaping over them in his attempt to find the giant shark-man. His content would be broken however, as he was swiftly kicked by Yore. “Let the fun begin!” Yore gleefully snarled. Close at hand, Vimes grimaced. “First the Raya Sayang, then Mexico, then SLJ and now a werewolf…this day just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Alas, such is Raya Sayang I’m beginning to understand: utter chaos abounds. I don’t know what the hell is happening here, but if it’s fisticuffs they want. Then it’s fisticuffs they shall get. Hold tight wolf-man, help is on the way…I surely hope you’re on my side.”
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=7955 )
Posted 07 April 2011 - 07:51 AM
Tampico, Mexico: Sundown
Indeed in the damp and humid Tampico air, the individuals centered near a bright, warm campfire were an odd site for any onlookers. Then again, the creeping night sky of Tampico had no observers save the beasts of the night. Or so our bizarre bunch would think. Amongst them: a tired, but proud SLJ by the name of Shijin and his stoic SLJ overseer, The Great Golem. Near the massive Golem were the corporeal remains of an A. Vimes, ghost detective. Neither of the SLJ heroes knew if the apparition before them was indeed “alive”. Often, they noticed his body shimmer and pulsate peculiarly, so they watched over his him nonetheless. Meanwhile, Jason Redfield and Robert Remington were away exploring the ruins of the Huastec temple. The Great Golem saw no need to pursue this endeavor, but the wolf in his company sought closure to a previous mission. The Golem was also extremely wary of their previous captive Jason Redfield roaming freely. But on request of Shijin, the marine did just that. Shijin had assured him that the marine fought boldly at his side. Furthermore, the wolf and Jason had seemed to have been acquaintances previously and were eager to catch up on conversation.
Also circling the flames were a beleaguered group of villains. Amongst them: Xochitl sans knife, bound and gagged, Edward Yore, out cold, bound and gagged, The Parasitic Koji Ito, bound and gagged and finally being sat upon was a monster – A Monster from the Fathoms. The Golem couldn’t find restraints proper enough for the beast within the wreckage of the plane and so Shijin and the Golem decided to freeze the beast. With only his head exposed, every so often the beast would stir and every so often the Golem would punch him in the nose allowing him a few more hours sleep. For hours, the five unbound champions discussed their present situations. Together they discussed their peculiarly ironic meeting in the Tampico wilderness, their combined knowledge of Raya Sayang and most importantly how to get home. Most of the ranting of the Sayang came from the retrieved texts of the Fallen villain, Perish. Often as they conversed, a muffled laughter could be heard by the gagged Koji Ito…
Later in the evening, Robert and Jason would return from the remains of the ruins with six individuals in tow. Adorned in soiled and grimy lab coats, the six came out coughing and looking a bit worse for wear. Robert smiled and waved. “Look what the dog dragged in!” He said smugly. Shijin and the Golem quickly rose from their seats and approached the group. “Survivors?” Shijin asked while taking the group to the warmth of the flames. Remington nodded his head in agreement as Jason took up positions nearby the bound criminals. He sneered evilly at them as he sat. “Yes…” replied Remington, “These were laboratory assistances of Dr. Odierno. They work here in Tampico at this underground facility. They investigate and study the unexplained world.” Golem grimaced. “The SLJ will have to look into the dealings of this Odierno...” Redfield frowned and cut him off. “The man’s dead. Why don’t you and your Sentinels leave it at that? He was a good man.” The Golem peered at the frozen shark man, “I’m sure.”
Suddenly, one of the researchers spoke up. “Excuse me…but perhaps I can add some input?” He said politely. The group turned their attention to him. “My name is Dr. Chad Smith…” as he greeted himself, he pointed to his fellow associates and they introduced themselves accordingly.
“Dr. Marvin…Michael Marvin.” The doctor smiled betraying chiseled features beneath an unusually thick beard.
“Dr. Pak. Pleased to meet you.” Holding her rather endearingly, another of the researchers bowed his head theatrically. Both seemed to be enjoying themselves a little too much for such a somber occasion. “Graves, at your service.” He said.
Meanwhile, an older gentleman sat next to the pair and sighed. He seemed rather uninterested in pleasantries. Despite this, he spoke in a graveled voice…
“You can just call me Dr. Tomblin.”
“ahem…Excuse Dr. Tomblin. It’s been a long day. We haven’t eaten and are dreadfully tired.” Dr. Smith said as he finally patted his last guest on the back. “Moving on…this is our last weary associate…” However, before he could finish.
“Just call me Troy.” The slightly androgynous male said. They all looked at this doctor strangely. Although his look was that of a young man, something unsettlingly feminine revealed itself to them. Jason whispered to Remington, “Alternative lifestyles.” Remington nodded in agreement. Dispensing in the pleasantries, the group convened a meal of meager foods found amongst the wreckage of the plane and discussed planes of rescue. Once during the talks, Dr. Smith would run off into the ruins to retrieve some concoction to add to the hero’s food. When questioned, he exclaimed that it was “just a few mixtures from the lab that will keep their health up.” The heroes were happy for the assistance and continued on. As the group conversed, a strange fatigue fell over heroes. One by one, the team fell asleep. Meanwhile the Golem fought the effects the hardest, struggling to stay awake to provide security over the still awake researchers. As his last will gave out, he noticed an evil grin peering through the gag on Yore’s face. Alas, he slept.
While the heroes slept, the researchers quickly began to undress and throw off their lab coats. Quickly, they commenced to unlocking and removing the binds of the criminals. Yore and Koji beamed as they find that all the researchers were disguised. The androgynous Troy ruffles her hair to its full length and unsnaps a restraining brassiere to reveal an ample bosom. “Thass’ right boys. I’m all gal!” She says with a thick southern twang. With Koji and Yore being the first unleashed, they immediately begin to laugh. “This is your doing?” Koji spoke to the six former researchers. “I can feel her in you. I can feel her presence within your minds. It is beautiful!” He exclaims. Pulling off a wig, the former Dr. Smith spoke. “Call me Percy…Mr. Ito I presume?” Ito rises and nods. “…and your acquaintance, this must be the illustrious, Edward Yore? We’ve heard so much about you from our illustrious benefactor.” Yore smirks, still under the control of Sayang. “Well, a little mandrake, catnip and whatever else we could throw together in their food did the trick, don’t you think?” Ito lunges forward and kicks the sleeping Redfield in the side. “Can we kill them?” Percy grins like a Cheshire cat. “Oh dear boy, don’t be so droll. We have yet to show you the grand depth of this evening’s activities. As out of the ordinary as this whole chance meeting may seem, it is all within the works of our prodigious patron. Come…let us show you the beauty of discord.” With that, the eight men and women walk towards the Huastec temple. Meanwhile, Xochitl fidgets furiously to get the attention of the assembly. At the same time, the Monster snorts still encased in slowly melting ice.
Long into the night, the Golem finally stirs first. Upon realizing that the entirety of the group has been led astray and that two of his captives are gone, the Golem roars in fury. Quickly, he jolts forth the sleeping Shijin. “Wake up son! Get up now…no time for dawdling.” Shaking violently, Shijin wakes. “Good god! Are you trying to break me in two?” The Golem releases the young hero. “Stay here. Watch those two.” He points to the Monster and Xochitl, the latter who has managed to crawl deep into the forest. “Not far enough.” Shijin says using his magnetism to pull the exhausted villain back to the fire. Meanwhile, the Golem rumbles off towards the temple where a haunting light has begun to form. Both of the heroes hear a monotonous mantra being repeated over and over in succession from the ruins. The sound sends chills through Shijin.
The Great Golem burst through the walls of the Huastec temple with the ease of a football player breaking the team banner before the game. Following a pale red light, the colossus crushed any pillar and gate in his way. Mere inanimate structures would not sate his thirst for revenge. It was not until he came upon a space deep within the ruins when he saw his reward. There before him were six hooded figures and his two ex-captives. Within the vault, a low resonant chanting pulsated within his ears. The crimson aura illuminated the entire area, its deriving location unknown. Upon his arrival, Edward Yore was the first to rise. “Stand down beast…for the fun is about to begin!” He shouted. The Golem did not. Next Itto would rise to stand before him. “The man said stand down!”
“…Don’t you see Golem? Our future is here…in this place...” The Golem grimaced and let loose a mighty stomp. The ground cracked and the hooded union ahead of him fell about the floor. Suddenly, a feminine scream was heard from inside the crack he created in the floor. The guild fell back in fear as lava spattered from the fracture. “Noooooooo!” Percy yelled in a futilely desperate outcry. From the lava a beautiful nymph like maiden rose. Without pause, she spilled past the Golem who stumbled slowly out of her fiery path. In seconds, she departed the room with a scream that pierced the night. “No No No…you big dumb oaf. What have you done?” The bewildered madman frantically waved his hands in the air in protest. Stepping forward, the Golem cried out, “What. The. Hell. Was. That?” The Great Golem pronounced, obviously not amused. Composing himself, Marshell Percy took down his hood and stood toe to toe with the goliath. “That my large cumbersome friend, was your folly.” He said Matter of Factly. The actor begins to slowly walk around the hero as if trying to build the tension. Pointing at the giant, he said, “Although it seemed to be a rather delicious folly, it was folly nonetheless.”
“Speak English or you are going down that hole.” The golem demands. The actor looks down and decides a distance from himself and the hole are in order. “What was that and do I need to kill it?” The golem says.
“Kill it? Why you cannot kill what is already dead? My dear boy, that was merely a wrath…a spectre…brought from the abyss by your clumsy bumbling. Again, it was your fault. Do not be so rude. I’m sure whatever it was will merely go about burning everything in its wake. Why to think of it, your unyielding interruption was just the sort of disorder mistress Sayang desires.”
“Who desires?” The giant says, his patience wearing thin. With a ceremonious bow, Percy begins his overture as if he’d been waiting his whole life for such a segue. He points to his guild and they immediately begin to dance with him as he speaks.
“We are the revelry of Bacchus: the Bassarids. We are the brood of Choronzon. For the void has claimed our patron of chaos and it is we who shall look into the abyss and claim her lost soul.”
“You and your little dancing friends are utterly nuts.” The Golem says plainly.
Smiling coyly, the actor bows deeply and continues, “Look down into the chasm you created. You see, great one…you are the catalyst of her return. You unleashed the chaos of fire. You created the abyss before you where her release can take place.” The Golem peers into the hole…confused. “Indeed In her past, our patron was defeated and sent back to the void. In any respect, the void cannot destroy chaos…for chaos and the void are of one. The formless abyss is where chaos began and it is from this which she will return.” From above a rumble shakes the underground tomb. A feminine scream is heard. The Golem grows impatient yet, his curiosity is peaked. Perturbed he hopes his charge, Shijin and the others can handle themselves just a while longer. Meanwhile, Marshell and his gang begin to creep backwards towards the darkness of the cavern. Marshell continues his tirade, “…and I quote:
When all things were in disorder God created in each thing in relation to itself, and in all things in relation to each other, all the measures and harmonies which they could possibly receive. For in those days nothing had any proportion except by accident; nor did any of the things which now have names deserve to be named at all — as, for example, fire, water, and the rest of the elements. All these the creator first set in order, and out of them he constructed the universe.
…and the Children of Chaos seeks to end this order.” Upon the end of this, the guild begin to shout and rave like madmen. Almost in a hiss, Percy finishes, “The Towers of Babylon must fall and I must thank you for what you’ve done. You see, fire is of chaos. Fire cleanses and fire changes…and that beautiful fiery wraith outside will set the stage for her return. My invocation was to be the harbinger of her greatness. Apparently, she’d like to see the world lay bare with fire first.”
Lunging forward, the giant grabs Marshell and lifts him from the ground. Immediately, he is surrounded by Yore and Itto. “I’ve had about enough of this Raya Sayang nonsense. First, I take care of that thing out there and then I take care of you.” The Golem throws the bizarre actor to the floor like a ragdoll and turns to see the super villains Yore and Itto blocking his exit. “Kill him.” Percy insists. With a sinister stare, the Golem digs in his heels…
“You want a piece of me? Let’s rumble.”
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=8962 )
As Shijin waits, the eerie crimson glow rises. It eventually encompasses the entire area. Shijin paces the campfire eager to assist his rocky supervisor. He is pleased to see his fellow heroes finally stir. “Good to see you guys could make it. Now how about you both stay here and watch these two as I go help out my partner?” Shijin looks back at the captives as he begins to walk forward. “Whoa cowboy...” Remington says, putting a massive clawed hand on the sorcerer’s chest. “…Wait, what now?” Shijin explains the entirety of his knowledge to Redfield and Remington in a hurried tone of voice. Still, the wolf holds him back. “If anyone is going in those ruins, it’s me and Jason. See, I know those faux-scientists…and I have at least a minimum knowledge of my way around that hole. “No, no…we’ll go. You do what your boss says and wait here. We wouldn’t want to see you get in trouble, now would we?” Before Shijin can protest, the two are already halfway to the temple. Huffing, he turns his back and faces the bound criminals. Suddenly, the meager campfire behind him goes from a whimper to a roar. “Aigh!” Shijin cries as the fire singes his back. “What the hell!?” He exclaims while the haunting red aura around the campsite has now grown to cover the entire landscape. Out of the blue, the campfire razes the area. As if alive it surrounds Shijin, cutting him off from his fleeing friends. With his staff he futilely tries to cool down the flames. As if taunting him, the flames grow even higher; pushing him back against the incarcerated. Shijin’s face grows in concern as he sits helpless watching the ice covering the Monster melt away hastily. His helplessness turns to necessity as he swiftly tries to refreeze the beast.
Just beyond the flames forming behind them, Redfield and Remington are assaulted just before they reach the opening of the temple. With a raging hot blast, the duo is sent flying backwards. Molten lava comes spilling forth. Deep within its recesses, a humanoid figure begins to form. A blazing flare shoots from the pool to either side of Redfield and Jason and immediately they are surrounded by an inferno. “This doesn’t look good.” Redfield says. “You’re a master of the understatement, aren’t you? Remington replies. To both their surprise, a stunning, voluptuous female outline begins to materialize in the lake of flames. Her body spastically jerks and sways. Abruptly, she whips her neck around and screams at the two fallen heroes. “What have you done? WHY!?! Why did you take me away from it? Where the @#$% am I now?! There was peace…peace…so much peace in the void…” Her voice wavers away into a sob. Meanwhile, the heroic team looks on, utterly confused. “Can you understand a word she’s saying?” Redfield asks. “Me? You’re the marine. Haven’t you traveled the globe?” Remington retorts. “That’s no language I’ve ever heard.” Remington stands perplexed. “Could this be the Raya Sayang we keep hearing about?” Before the two can continue bantering they are met with a fearsome heat wave. The sobbing girls face changes from distraught to exaggerated rage. “Mother Earth! Father Sky! You will not punish me anymore! You want to drag me from the void for your games? So be it…feel my full wrath! For I am no longer the little girl you whisked away to your immoral layer. I am of fire! I am of hate! I am one with the volcano! Feel my fury!” With that, the entire vicinity trembles and quakes. Molten lava spews forth from the Earth. “Well, don’t just stand there…Fortes Fortuna Juvat and all of that.” Redfield stands bewildered barely registering Remington’s comment. He readies his weapons as Remington rumbles a guttural growl.
The Last Virgin of Pele Island scowls insanely, “The world will burn for this.” Like a coiling snake of lava, the fiery girl climbs the temple precipice to its utmost pinnacle challenging the heroes to follow.
( http://www.electricf...?showtopic=8542 )
Continued from link
…and the mighty hero collapsed into the only defensive position left to him – Fetal. With tears welling up in his eyes, Jason rocked back and forth in agony; the pain of the numerous burns becoming an afterthought. The fiery girl turned her head slowly towards the sky. Although her body hurt, she snarled in passionate rage, “Pele Island must die!” Through the pain Jason heard the words, but could make no sense of them, “Crazy !@#%.” He spit through chapped lips. Ignoring him, the girl’s legs became snake-like. Slowly, she slithered her way towards Shijin who had nearly cooled away the fire around him. Her trail burned a path towards the hero. “You’re next.” She affirmed, pointing her finger menacingly at the champion.
Posted 07 April 2011 - 08:01 AM
Edward Yore stands jubilantly with one foot on the chest of the fallen Great Golem of the SLJ. He cackles maniacally as Koji and Keijo stalk nearby. “Done…” He gloats. “…and your precious Raya Sayang has been excommunicated from my mind.” With a thrust, he kicks the giant into the neighboring hole created by the entity from Pele Island. The monster falls into the abyss like a silent leaf. There is no sound of impact. “Where is your precious Raya Sayang now?” Yore scans the area and sees no trace of his abductors. He turns to Itto who is smiling eerily. “…and what, may I ask, are you smiling about? You are part of the problem; ruining my entertainment with your interference.”
Yore places his hands upon his temples and begins his vicious mind blast. Simultaneously, Keijo draws her pistol forward and Itto crouches defensively. Keijo flexes her trigger finger and Yore grimaces concentrating his power when suddenly…all is halted. Itto tries to move his body, but is frozen in place. He gazes around to notice Keijo and Yore are additionally detained from action. A voice mutters from the nowhere in particular within the surrounding darkness, “Tsk tsk tsk…what a scene! What a scene indeed.” As the trio inspects their environment for the location of the voice, it continues. “Did I hear someone mention breaking the hold of Raya Sayang? Surely you jest, Mr. Yore? You see, my compatriots and I have been previously distracted is all. But, I assure you that now you have my full attention.”
Yore struggles to speak, but his body is held tight against his will. Percy notices this, smirks and releases his telepathic hold on Yore. “I have allowed your mind to let you speak Mr. Yore. Tread carefully.” He says fiercely. “Impossible! I beat her. I forced her out of my mind…” Percy immediately re-clinches his hold on Yore. A thunderous laughter echoes throughout the caverns. Suddenly, he writhes from the veil of the shadows. In his hand is the knife of Xochitl Cuauhtli. He approaches Yore, pointing the knife at his jugular. “Listen carefully, the great benefactor never had you. I did. If she were anywhere near here, you wouldn’t be. Get it?” Percy looks at the petrified features of Yore, leers and turns away. “No, you probably don’t.” Then, Percy gestures and the remaining members of the Actor’s Guild surface from the shadows. “While you boys have been frolicking, we’ve been receiving communiqué from hers truly. As a consequence, it has become evident to us that our benevolent patron is gracing her faithful with a gift. Alas, that is enough for now. Your ears, Mr. Yore are not worthy. Perhaps others…” Percy glances at Koji and Keijo, “…are.”
At length, Percy and his clan begin to exit the temple where the sounds of warfare can be heard outside. “So without further ado, I shall prepare the offering to receive the tidings of our mistress Sayang.” Percy glances back at his immobile captives. “Oh and thanks for kicking off the ceremonies, Mr. Yore.” Yore’s expressionless face slightly furrows at the brow. “Fine…” Percy quips, “…must I explain everything.” He begins to walk back down the path towards Yore. The guild wait patiently above. “You see, outside a fiery wrath from beyond is creating havoc amongst your friends – something old. Meanwhile, you have charitably offered the life of the Great Golem to mistress Sayang – something new. I have rented a very nice cutting tool from your devious acquaintance topside – something borrowed. Finally, you are going to be quite disappointed with what I do with it – something blue.”
No sooner than said, Percy whips Xochitl’s knife across the throat of Yore. The attack just slightly nics Yore Enough to draw blood. Quicker still, Percy flings the trickle of blood into the vast abyss beyond. “SAYANG MALA SA LUBYA!” He booms in an unearthly voice. Abruptly from the rear, the Guild rips into an uproar, chanting in an anomalous unison. Percy laughs madly as the abyss below begins to glow a deep blood red. The chanting grows louder. The temple rumbles violently. Percy turns and heads toward the exit hastily. Meanwhile, the Guild continues to chant and moan swaying strangely. “Now it is time for the fat lady to sing.”
Upon departing the mystic ceremony in the temple below, Percy walks out to an astonishing sight. To his surprise, the fiery harbinger has not fully decimated the vicinity. Much to his dismay, all the intruders still live. He surveys the area and notices the flaming maiden atop the temple fending herself weakly against Shijin and a now cognizant A. Vimes. In the distance, Xochitl is putting the final touches on freeing the monstrous shark-beast from his icy prison using shrapnel from the plane wreckage. Finally, he notices Remington painfully rising to his feet as Jason Redfield collects surrounding armament from the plane wreckage nearby. The duo is worse for wear, but still eager to fight. This is not going according to plan, Percy thinks. These intruders have served their purpose and now must be vanquished. He smiles.
“Something old!” He shouts and at once, he twists and hurls Xochitl’s knife at the demon atop the temple. The dagger penetrates her directly in the forehead. She shrieks loudly. Shijin and Vimes cover their ears before being knocked forcefully down the side of the temple. Simultaneously, the demoness contorts and writhes in her death throes. Her body pulsates, boils and bursts. An explosive lava coat envelops the ruins and oozes downward hardening as it cools. Making the odd occurrence even more a spectacle is the eerie red glow that begins to penetrate the cracks and holes of the ruins. It gives the cooled magma a hazy luminosity as the temple rumbles mysteriously. As this happens, Percy notices all eyes are on him. “Get him!” Redfield yells. “I think not.” Percy returns. A burning intensity rises within Percy’s eyes. As the four heroes rush towards him, he waves his hand towards the temple. Immediately, an enthralled Koji and Yore emerge ready to clash. Percy grins as he feels the psychic struggle in Yore’s mind. “I will kill you one day.” Yore resists enough to say. “Some other time, perhaps…” Percy says smugly. “But for now you are dealing with a Master Psychic and for now, you are mine.” The two-some run ahead of Percy to face the oncoming heroes for possibly the last time. Meanwhile…”Sh!t!” Redfield proclaims. Remington turns his head and is troubled to see the massive Shark-man has become quite free and flanked him. Meanwhile, Xochitl stands below the temple’s edge grasping his knife. He chuckles, “Die sunsuckers.”
( http://www.electricf.......=12302&st=0 )
Posted 07 April 2011 - 09:36 AM
Posted 07 April 2011 - 12:33 PM
War of Drekis, by Robotech Master: http://robotechmaste...rekis/index.htm
Mindsplatter: Time Enough, by red and ThePoet (Can't find the story)
Keys to the Kingdom series by Mr. Graves: http://web.atmc.net/...TKE/KEMain.html
Armageddon (Can't find this one either, but I believe Threedark has it somewhere)
..is when it really all changed for me. Now, it's back to basics for me. I want to leave an FPL legacy like these guys before me. This is our place. This is where we go to say, "Hey, look at what I can do!" So, this is why I'm doing it. To create a world where you guys can interact with characters that you created. So you can be proud and show off what you can do. Or I can show off what you can do. Either way. This is our show. This is why I do it. Everybody needs a playground and the FPL is our playground. So, for Sirmethos and Kainboa and others that just don't get it. You can keep your debating on whether or not Spiderman can shoot twenty webs out his ass or if he can shoot thirteen. Make mine FPL. Here's looking at you FPLers.
By the way: Somewhere towards the end of the FPL, Mr. Graves, Landon and a few others began writing a Death of Khazan storyline. I sent a message to Graves recently asking if he kept this. He said he'd have to dig up what he had. If any of the vets still have this piece of work. Please feel free to post it somewhere. It was great.
Posted 07 April 2011 - 01:48 PM
Posted 26 April 2011 - 03:55 PM
As the fight swelled out of control, the combatants failed to detect Percy’s exit from the stage he had set. Nevertheless, within and beyond the tomb of the Huastec temple an occurrence of dubious outcome was taking place. The remains of what was once the Last Virgin of Pele Island had now formed a luminous impermeable coating around the ruined shrine. Eerie red light spewed from the crevices and cracks that surrounded its surface. The ground around it began to rumble. The fighters stumbled and fell about as they warred throughout the sacred grounds. “What the hell?” Jason yelled. He looked above to see the peak of the temple beginning to thunder, reform and rise. The shell that had formed on the temple became a crystalline black. Just like the fiery demoness that formed it before, the new encasement twisted and re-formed constantly; incessantly changing shape as it rose into the upper atmosphere.
Meanwhile, the fighting stopped completely as all observed the ongoing change. “What is this about?” Remington said to Jason. “I don’t know, but I don’t aim to let it finish.” Jason replied, raising and loading his M4. “What about these guys?” Shijin asked as he noticed that the villains were quickly losing interest and turning their attention back to the distracted heroes. Quickly, the heroes returned to their opponents ready to Clash again. “You see?” A voice echoed from within the shifting opening of the temple. Out of the scarlet glow came Percy. With a thrust of his hands, he pushed several of the spectators to the floor. “This is our reward! This is the beginnings of the new world. With this dark prize, the Children of Chaos will truly be free. Come Koji…join me in this fine hour of victory!” Percy waves his hand and Koji Itto eagerly and hurriedly rushes into the misshapen ruins. Percy glimpses out at the onlookers. He grimaces in anger. “As for you, just die already! Can’t you see the world is changing? We do not need you anymore.” He screamed. Leaping from the entrance, he whirled his arms and flung Xochitl into the monstrous Shark man. The beast roared as Xochitl’s knife plunged into his beak. While temporarily distracted, Yore took full advantage and unleashed an enormous mental strike against Percy. “Pay attention to your true threat pretender!” He roared. Percy fell backwards, caught off guard. Repeatedly, Yore struck with mental blasts at the villain. “You bore me.” Yore claimed and gave one final blast that sent Percy falling back within the temple.
Suddenly, the temple began to rumble fiercely…fiercer than ever before. To the surprise of all around, not only was the peak of the temple rising, but the entirety of the ruin itself was beginning to unearth itself from the surrounding terra firma. The stygian spire pierced the heavens as it ascended. Out of the blue, shadowy tentacles emerged from the spire. Whipping forth, they lashed out at the heroes and villains. Jason ducked and Remington was hit hard into unconsciousness. His body slamming hard against the airplane remains nearby. Shijin threw bolts of fire into the sky, trying to burn a limb to know avail. The begrimed bough came down like a wrath of gods. Quickly he leaped to the side, throwing a magnetic barrier around his person. Next, fiery red-black debris from the spire rocketed forth like missiles. Heroes and villains alike dashed away to avoid the onslaught.
In the confusion, Percy appeared within the entrance again…smiling. “You…! We know you. Ennui, Chaos…” Percy spits to the floor. “She awaits you.” He said pointing to Yore. “…welcome to the terror-dome!” laughing maniacally, he tightened his hand into a fist and pulled towards his chest. The beleaguered Yore yelled as his body was telekinetically launched into the doorway of the Spire. Not to be outdone, Redfield ran forward and leapt into the entry as it quickly began to close before him. With a crunching that sounded like bones grinding, the door slammed shut. Outside, the remaining heroes and villains would fight for their lives against the seemingly sentient Spire that slowly pulled itself away from the Earth. Inside, Yore and Jason would face nightmares unknowing.
Within the Spire, walls shift and reshape as Redfield and Yore clumsily try to navigate the temple. The rocks moves as if alive filled with a tense red glow upon an ebon surface. Redfield presses his back firmly against a wall to make sure nothing catches him from behind. Yore walks boldly forward as If he owns the Spire himself. Percy and Koji Itto are nowhere to be found. Abruptly, the wall Redfield had planted itself on shifts and dissipates. Redfield falls backwards into a black void. Yore turns to see him disappear into the black and merely laughs, “My kind of party.” He says to himself. His laugh is suddenly joined by another…Percy’s laugh. It is horrid and mocking. “She knows you…” His voice cuts through the darkness like a knife. “…She is hardly impressed.” He finishes. Yore simply mumbles to himself and continues pressing on, following the mental aura of his prey. “She will show you Chaos boy!” Percy taunts. As he does, the ground beneath Yore springs forth and raises him into the ceiling. With a surprising nimbleness, Yore leaps from the rock and into a nearby familiar opening. He emerges at the foot of the great crack formed from the earlier rising of the fiery woman. Echoing across the chamber, the voices of the Actor’s Guild can be heard; speaking in some archaic, eldritch language. “Back here again.” Yore mutters to no one in particular. Percy’s voice echoes across the room once more, "If you look long enough into the void the void begins to look back through you."
No sooner than said, the crevice before Yore begins to radiate. Yore backs away warily. Squinting, Yore can’t believe his eyes. From inside a figure rises. In the dim lighting, Yore makes out a familiar face before him…his own. The figure moves towards him, dressed like him, walking like him and looking utterly bored…like him. Yore frowns, “Not funny.” He says. In the vicinity, Jason Redfield clutches his gathered weapon tightly. He is tired, confused and near broken. However, his determination is still true. With no reservations he lumbers forward into the unknown. “Now how did you get here?” A voice from the shadows speaks. “Who the hell are you?” Jason returns. “What is this madness?” he yells to the dark. The voice just laughs and returns:
“But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,
Is wetter water, slimier slime!
And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
who swam ere rivers were begun,
Immense, of fishy form and intellect,
Squamous, omnipotent, and…Chaotic!”
Without warning, the room turns bitterly cold…then completely ices over. A door forms in an adjacent wall. Quickly, a small form slides through. Jason’s eyes widen in perplexity. His mouth hangs open as a tiny little Penguin scrambles to its feet. To add to Jason’s confusion, the Penguin is sporting a quite dashing top hat, tie and scarf. A martini glass slides into the room with it and splashes unto Redfield’s feet. The door closes behind it. The little penguin, now up on its feet leers at Redfield and opens its beak, “Sqawk.”
Fight 1: Jason Redfield vs. the Original Semi Rational Penquin
( http://www.electricf...showtopic=13487 )
Fight 2: Edward Yore vs. Forté
( http://www.electricf...showtopic=14220 )
The End and the fate of all Coming Soon (ish)!
Posted 03 June 2011 - 10:16 PM
Jason hacked and slashed away at the slimy feathery flesh beneath him. In his fury, he hardly detected the stark contrast in temperature within the room, the sudden still of movement and the quiet hush of madness subdued. At length, sweating and panting, Jason opened his eyes to observe the entity below him was dead or at least it had ceased to fight back. Whatever you’d care to call it, Jason approved. Grotesquely, the smallish flightless waterfowl spewed an ochre secretion, popped and boiled and slowly merged into the floor. Jason quickly rose to his feet and stepped away from the sickening creature, dropping his knife in exhaustion. As he did so, the room subtlety returned to normal. But Jason knew nothing was normal within this structure. This place was a madhouse and as his wits came back around, he noticed that once again the room began shifting and trembling anew. His mind hastened. He couldn’t do this again. He had to get out and survive to fight another day. Watching the room transform, he remembered that diminutive openings would sometimes reveal themselves in the wall during its conversions. An opening like this was where the monstrous penguin-thing emerged previously. With steady timing and precision movement, he waited and then made his way to one of these exits. With a tuck and a roll, he was out of the room, weaponless and running for his life.
As he ran, he heard the sounds of laughter all about the twisting hallways. He turned corners numerous times that seemed to never change design. At least twice, he would run past a large opening that revealed his previous enemy, Edward Yore being throttled by what looked like an extremely large barbarian. On his second pass, it seemed like a dinosaur was choking Yore senseless. Eventually, he ran past the room several times and every time something new was throttling Yore. His mind was clearly leaving him. It was him that would be senseless if he didn’t find a way out of the ruins. At last, he came to an entryway that appeared to be the entrance where it all began. Without hesitation, he made his way to the accessible area. He could smell the fresh scent of the outside air. He could taste freedom and as he made his way to the exit, he leaped…
Expecting to once again tuck and roll, Jason was confused and utterly dismayed to find that he had leapt from a ruin that had now rose several dozen feet above the Earth’s surface. He screamed and flailed madly as he saw the ground coming at him rapidly. “This is the end.” he thought, “This is how I die.” The wind whistled in his ear as he fell; loudly at first, and then quietly and more quietly and then nothing. With one wincing eye open and one tightly closed, he peeked to see Alexander Vimes holding him aloft telekinetically with a tremendous amount of strain. He viewed the surroundings and saw that his former enemies had been soundly defeated. His comrades, Shijin and Robert Remington were hurt, bleeding, but all in all okay. He smiled as Vimes lowered him enough for Remington to catch him safely. “Thanks…now put me down. You smell like dog.” He said to the wolf-man. Remington’s teeth gleamed with what was considered a smile in dog-man expressions. “Nice to see you too.” Remington returned. Jason fell to his feet and quickly hugged his compatriots, “I’ve never been so glad to see you jerks' in my life.” He said. They all laughed, but the laughter was soon turned to silence as it was joined by a larger-than-life bellow from above.
Above them was an ungodly sight of epic horror. They gaped in amazement as seeping hot lava rained from the sky. Steaming billows of vapor rose from the top of the former Huastec temple. Magma seeped from its cracks and pores. What was once a Huastec temple was now an enormous spire: a spire that held itself aloft in the skies above them like some horrible god. The heroes who fought outside the temple had been so caught up on their internal struggle that they had completely forgotten about the ruin that was pulling itself free from the Earth. It had succeeded with awful triumph. It loomed quietly as the voice within still laughed horrifically.
Finally, the voice stopped laughing. A vague figure stepped to the edge of the soil that had been ripped from the Earth with the Spire. He spoke,
“You see…The tower lives. Constantly in a state of continuous evolution and de-evolution. It shifts with the blowing winds; it shifts with every chime of the bells. It shifts with the passing of time, and it shifts with every breath I take. To trespass is to willingly trespass upon the soil of Oblivion. To ascend the staircase within is to climb the steps of Chaos itself and now…the Spire lives. THE SPIRE LIVES!!” He shouted loudly and began to chuckle horridly again.
The heroes recognized the voice as the man that had sabotaged them earlier. As the man that had hurt them and the man that had created this whirlwind of nonsense that they took center stage in. Percy was his name and as they watched helplessly at the Spire floating away, he laughed from his perch and oddly enough, began to sing:
“So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehen, goodbye…” As he sung, the players of the Actor’s Guild joined him at the edge of the Spire’s mass. Simultaneously, the Spire disappeared into the faraway clouds. Meanwhile, the Guild began to act out the entire Farewell scene from the Sound of Music. Jason, Shijin and Vimes all looked on dumbstruck. Without warning, Yore's body came tumbling from above with a scream and then a crunching halt. The companion's eyed each other in bewilderment. Jason scratched his head as the Spire dissipated from view. He finally broke the silence, “So…how do we get out of here?”
At this point, anyone feel free to write any Sayang related fiction they'd like here. Especially members of the team. Go out and cause havoc!! This story serves as the introduction of the Chaos Spire (Character coming soon: http://www.electricf...showtopic=16830 ) which is the floating palace of the Children of Sayang
Posted 10 July 2011 - 04:14 PM
The Tale of Athural the Untouchable
“To the venerable and excellent Lord Athural, this is my twentieth and final dispatch to you. Between your campaigns throughout the harsh lands of Neral, I have been your loyal eyes and ears to your former throne. As it is known to you, your kingdom of Ka’Hazan has fallen asunder. As you had wished it in your absence, I have kept your daughter safe. Alas, it is with much woe that I inform you that this can no longer be done. Much has gone dreadfully wrong since my last communiqué with you, sire. In my last message, I bid you make haste towards home. Howbeit, I can only hope that you have not followed my advice. Indeed sire, you should steer clear of your whilom castle. My suggestion now is that you fall back to the hidden Fae Kingdom of the North or to your friend, King Chorral of Yiddus. Please, do not come here. I beg of you, sire. Live. Withal, I know you will not listen…”
As Lord Athural of Ka’Hazan read the dire tidings of the great wizard of his court, Omm the Uncanny, he buckled in his saddle. How much more bad news could one king receive, he thought. It was but one year following the birth of his daughter while he was away on political duty, when his wife, the queen had been found murdered in her sleep in the most dreadful manner. Her entrails littered across her own bedroom floor. Her blood painted the walls of her innermost chambers. Likewise, all the surrounding chamber guards were slaughtered in a similarly horrific method. Upon returning home, the king demanded a comprehensive investigation of the entire castle. His great Wizard, Omm completed the task with utmost efficiency, but to no avail. That is, to no avail to the king’s knowledge. Omm had in fact discovered something…something far too evil and incredibly wrong to discharge to the King’s longing ear. It was the sort of information that would damn a kingdom. To be more precise, it was the sort of information that would damn you if you do and damn you if you don’t. So, he kept it to himself and straight away hoped and planned for the best. But of course, his hopes were quickly and thoroughly dashed away like so much sand against the rushing shore.
Now, let it be known that Lord Athural was a just, fair and illustrious king and his Kingdom wept for years following this event. However even with the fame of the king and the teary endorsements of well wishers from near and far; the people still were quite unsettled by the tragic, yet disturbing occurrence. They spoke of hauntings and curses on the royal family. Some said that the birth of Athural’s own daughter had been foretold in an evil omen by the town’s spiritual set as the herald of the end-times. Athural ignored this prattle and only kept his eyes on the immediate and observable dilemmas of the Kingdom. And many dilemmas they were too. Coincidently, many problems arose a year following the birth of his daughter: much to his dismay.
Subsequent to her birth, the kingdom and all the surrounding areas had become a different place. It was as if madness had begun blowing across the plains. The wizard Omm was the first to realize its true nature as tales reached the royal house of more and more frequent attacks from the Dark Forest of Neral. It was unprecedented - raiding parties of orcs and trolls that would not only plunder, but *insensitivity* and kill, utterly breaking the peace treaties, barbarians rising from the South and local in-fighting within local villages. Madness. It was reaching out, changing the landscape, making the people corrupt, and making everyone angry. It was a morose period and only Omm had any sense of what was going on. But what could one man do with knowledge that could not be divulged.
And so the time came when Lord Athural had to leave; to defend his kingdom against these ill winds of change. Thusly, the king left for battle with his mighty war hammer and massive army in tow. In the interim, Omm and a few of Athural’s most trusted knights would stay behind and monitor the home front, keeping special care of the King’s daughter. Woe to the kingdom of Ka’Hazan, for what started as a mere battle developed into a ten year war. Little did the king know that many of his enemies had joined forces to squelch his empire. Troll, Orc and human became one army against the man typically known as Athural the Untouchable. This was a moniker that would be fully tested as Athural and his men fought across his entire Kingdom. Routinely receiving help from his receding allies throughout the realms, Athural stood strong…briefly. However in his lapse from the throne, an internal threat had also made moves upon the house of Athural. And so despite warning from his sage wizard, ten years into the war and with nearly three-forth’s of his kingdom in ruins, Athural returned home.
“Sire, if you choose to return home against your sage’s best judgment, please be tempered to what you will find. I cannot descry the proper usage of wordage to distill to you what must be told. Therefore, let me be thoroughly blunt – your kingdom has been sacked. Upon your return, you will find that the hordes of Neral have burned down the surrounding villas. Your knights fought bravely. Nevertheless, it was to our surprise that the Sleeping Giants of C’ral had joined forces with the armies of your enemies. They swept through your realm like a child with so many play things. You may also query as to the whereabouts of the great Omm during these catastrophic moments. I request that you first build a strategy for entering your kingdom before questioning my whereabouts or that of your daughter. Your kingdom is aware of your former epoch as a barbarian. All is known how you conquered your way to the throne. I more than anyone know that you are not a man to sit idly by while your world crumbles around you. But I must beg of you, please do not ride full force into the kingdom trusting in the might of your hammer or your men. Anon, I fear you will not heed my advice…”
Lord Athural road full stride towards his former Kingdom of Ka’Hazan. Riding with him were four of his finest warriors. As he neared his territory’s wall known as Shev’lGate, he noticed the raging fires on the other side. The fire did not match the inferno growing in his weary heart. Orc bowmen awaited him from the precipice of the entry. His two bowmen were quicker. As two of them spread out to divert attention from the king, they were steadfast and well aimed. Their arrows hit home. His horse continued to charge forward with an unearthly fury. He was a man possessed. Other orc guards outside the gate rushed to stop the rampaging king only to be met with the force of hooves or the cudgeling of hammer. Back and forth he swung unerringly striking down any who would oppose him. Quickly as he charged, one of his men riding the rear threw a ladder to the gate. Soon after deploying the ladder, the soldier lost his life to an opposing arrow. An orc glanced at the maddened warrior-king beginning to climb the steps. An alarm sounded at the recognition of the returned lord. The orcs bundled together to focus their attack at the king only to be met with a thunderous hammer strike…
“If you are to ride in haphazardly into battle (which I am sure you will do) m’ lord, then I prays your mighty hammer, Svirfneblin’s Wrath ring true…”
With a crack, the hammer stung the brick wall of Shev’lGate. The orcs pressing against the wall tumbled to the Earth as the cinderblock and slab gave way beneath them. The other orcs were quickly perforated by an impossibly fierce flurry of arrows from the warriors below. The king used the momentary commotion to pull himself to the top of the gate. The massive king stood at a staggering 6 feet 6 inches. He towered over the dying orcs surrounding him. It was here that the change in the heart of the mighty Athural the Untouchable took place. His faith in any sort of reconciliation of his home rushed from him like water through an open palm. As he briefly surveyed his land, he saw the true horror of it all. Giants played amongst the burning town. They devoured screaming women and children. Orcs rummaged through homes, drinking and fouling everything they touched. And worse, the castle…his castle had turned into a frightening unnatural spire that pierced the heavens. Madness. It was obvious even in his heightened vehemence that the king could not take the direct approach.
“Remember the hidden passageway, sire. I abhor the thought of a king resorting to such unpleasant means, but if you are to be obstinate in your approach, remember the hidden passageway to your throne room. Lesser kings than you developed this duct for just such an occasion. Please in this instance, take the path of least resistance. It will lead you directly to my sanctuary. Hopefully, I will be able to meet you in the hidden chambers. But be wary, m’lord, for fearsome beasts lie in the underground.”
Athural leapt down from the castle walls ignoring the nearby secret passageway to the undergrounds for the time being. A bit of revenge was in order. Knee deep in squalor and filth, Lord Athural made his way to his castle. “I will not be denied my vengeance vermin.” His voice boomed. He meant for all the looming beasties to hear him. His men, seeing his rage made their way to the top of the castle walls in response with their bows in tow. As he crept forth warily, the sounds of spattering water and flittering feet could be heard nearby. Just outside of his peripheral, he noticed something moving presently. Orcs surrounded him in every direction. Athural beamed. Leaping forward, several of the Orcs made for a sneak attack. Hefting his hammer high into the air, Athural brought it down with a mighty collision. As the Orc’s rusted corroded weapons hit Athural’s armor, an unseen force also sparked forth from Svirfneblin, the Lord’s potent hammer. The force sent Orc warriors slamming into nearby walls. At the same time more rushed in, disregarding the strike. Their weapons crossed, but in a similar manner as before, the kinetic force of impact sent their weapons flying from their hands. With massive strikes, Svirfneblin’s mass met with collapsed ribs and crushed skulls. “Know thee well, fell villains that the hammer of Lord Athural is thrice blessed. Now, come and dance the dance of death with me.”
Athural advanced on more than a few Orcs that made their way to the battle. His steps however were drowned out and met with the thunderous stomps of something far larger than he – a Giant. Maddened as he was, Athural was no fool. His decision was made; he would make haste to the nearby underground passage. But first, he would have to remove the giant’s foot that had found its way unto the passageway’s entrance. With a roar, Athural pulled back his hammer and would lunge it forward. It hurtled through the air at the giant. The colossus laughed, raising a large thin shield of metal and leather. Meanwhile, Athural lumbered forward like a raging rhinoceros knocking aside Orc after orc that had dared mass before him. The hammer hit the shield of the giant who leaned in to brace for defense. Upon contact with the hammer, the shield exploded sending splinters of metal into the eyes of the giant. The giant howled in anger, grasping his bleeding eyes and face. Meanwhile, Athural leapt into the air, catching his hammer and rolling towards the passageway’s opening that had now been made perceptible due to the giant’s bumbling. The Orcs confused, rose to their feet. The other giants in the region, alerted by the howl of their brethren made way to the site. The giant that fought against Athural however, was blind. It fell to its knees covering the secret entrance once again with its knees as the small army searched frantically for the little king that had long since passed through the hidden path.
As the king climbed down the narrow stairwell to his wizard’s hidden chambers, he felt suddenly awash in panic. His mind raced. What would he see? What had happened to his daughter? Omm was always aware of his presence before; where was he? What lie on the other side of the door? Putting the anxiety aside, the king silenced any trepidation and sturdied himself with his former emotion…fury. With a push of his hammer, Athural splintered the wooden opening to the chamber. Climbing up, he realized he was in the right place. All over the room were strange devices, mythical creatures encaged and smoking burners, beakers and strange tools that the king did not recognize. It was definitely Omm’s lair. He paid little heed to these things; pressing forward in search of his sage advisor.
“If you enter my private chambers and I am not found, m’lord, then the worst can be ascertained. Alas, my time in your service has expired. If this is so, look unto my wardrobe. There you will find a sword. It is now that I must inform you of the true nature of the events that have befallen you…”
Athural holds the sword firmly. It is majestic, indeed. With a cadence, the king sways with the sword in assessment. It is perfect. The weight is perfectly distributed in his hands. In his palms, it glows with a calming aura. Above its hilt is a placing for three gems. The gems are beautiful, however they glow with contrasting radiance against the glow of the sword itself. The king squints at this incongruity when suddenly a voice whispers behind him, “Father…”
“Let it be known sire, your daughter, the Lady Jes’lica is dead. To be more accurate, your daughter was never alive. Not in the sense we understand anyways. Sire to put it plainly, your daughter was but a vessel. She was like an empty chalice and that chalice filled with a most dire libation and lamentably that libation has overflowed and spilled unto your world, poisoning all in its wake. Sire, our realm is in its autumn and the leaves of change have begun to fall. Alas, I word this dismal tragedy too eloquently. That girl is not the gentle breeze that blows the autumn leaves, indeed she is an enraged blizzard. She is a force of nature that will sweep the slate clean. In my studies, I have found the text that explains her being. She is known as Raya Sayang. She is primordial. Look for my text. You will find them wrapped around the hilt of the sword. The sword itself is a gift from my friends of the Fae Kingdom of the North. You can thank Fairy Ravenna if we live through this. It is magically enhanced like the mighty hammer you currently wield. If you find the girl…do not hesitate. Kill her…”
Lord Athural turns swiftly to find a nightmare before him. Quickly he pockets the text and raises the weapon. Standing awkwardly in his wake is his little girl, covered with blood and holding the head of his former wizard. He shudders violently at the sight and struggles not to collapse in lunacy. The pre-teen girl is but a shadow of the young girl he remembered. The gems on the crystals burn fiercely in defiance to the young girl’s presence. Immediately she digs into his mind and the room spirals out of control. Without warning the room is filled with dogs, then butterflies. Athural is flying, he’s falling. The girl explodes, reforms. Shatters like glass. He’s laughing. Crying. Confused. Nonsense. Chaos. Her mind. His mind.
“…Is strong. You have always been mentally adept m’lord. I always thought that if you had put your mind to it, you would’ve been a great wizard yourself. With that said, please do not fall sway to her chaos. Use the sword, it can deflect a little of her madness. Like the blinding hurricane of your fighting technique, bludgeon the girl with the sword’s power. Combined with the fortitude of your own strong mind you should be able to fend her off just enough…”
Raising the mystic sword in rebelliousness, the king focuses his mind on one thing…anger. He closes his mind and focuses his rage. The entirety of the sword burns with the matching shade. With a closed mind, the warrior-king begins his death dance. Just as his hammer crushed the orc creatures from before, his sword commences in shattering the maddening illusions around him. The little girl laughs, and then screams…
The sound sends the king flailing into an adjacent wall. Blacking out briefly, his ears begin to bleed slightly. Quickly, he comes to. Opening his eyes, he becomes aware that his world is yet again upside down…literally. The room is no longer a room, but has gone ajar in an Escher-like manner. Athural nearly retches as he realizes he has gone tipsy turvy. In a distilled moment of displaced clarity, he clutches the sword resolutely. It seems to feel him with vigor. The chamber comes alive and commences to assault him like a living thing. Nimble, the warrior-king traverses the labyrinth with sprite-like agility. With hammer in one hand and the sword in the other, he fends off the brick and block projectiles that attack him. The unsettling balance of the two massive weapons would’ve befuddled another man. The mystified room should’ve exasperated him. But it was not to be so. As the little girl walked lightly about the room seemingly oblivious and in her own little world, the warrior-king encroached upon her agilely maneuvering through the labyrinth as if it were of his own making.
“Forgiveness m’lord, but if this entity overwhelms you and you feel you will succumb to the chaos, I leave you with one option. Use the text. There is an incantation on the back of the manuscript. If you should feel that you will fall to this thing, please do not hesitate to use this passage. It is of Fae tongue, to which I have taught you the basic fundamentals. It is ancient and it may be your only hope. Call upon the magic within the sword and the wording. Escape. Where it will take you, I don’t know. But it will take you somewhere safe. It will take you somewhere throughout time and space where this Raya Sayang will be weakest. Use this opportunity to find likeminded associates. Establish an army. Find her while she is weakest and strike early before she can rise again. The crystals within the sword will guide you. Trust in the sword. Trust in yourself. I beseech thee, take heed to all that I have told you and fare thee well, m’lord and sire…fare thee well.”
The warrior-king closes in on the dark child of the spire. With sword drawn back deeply, he plunged forward without hesitation to kill the being that would be his daughter. His mind focused and his heart sealed against regret, he launched the enchanted blade deep into the entity’s chest. It quivers, jolts and then slowly turns its head, smiles and disappears. The chamber abruptly shifts back to normal. Swiftly, Athural negotiates his way to the floor of the chamber. He sighs and falls to the floor. “Father.” A voice repeats. His eyes jolt open. His senses become awash in insanity as he peers around to view a panorama of Raya Sayang. It is too late. Her power has grown too strong. Hundreds of likenesses of the girl begin to fill the room. They are everywhere: the ceiling, the walls, the floors, the windows, in his face…everywhere. Athural begins to hyperventilate. “Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father! Father!...” The entities repeat over and over again. Athural falls into a fetal position. He is tired and worn. He has fought for ten years; witnessed the death of his Queen, his armies, his people, he has been made aware that his daughter is actually a primordial entity seeking naught but psychosis. Near insanity, he reaches for the hilt of the sword. He pulls the text of Omm from a hidden compartment in the hilt, unfolds it and reads:
“Unasae! Vasata Yldannan. A'Laena Sar”
The room flashes a blinding white. When Athural opens his eyes, he is standing in front of a towering structure: standing, not fallen. The skies are blue, much in contrast to the blackened skies of Ka’Hazan. His senses are immediately overwhelmed by an immense array of sights, sounds and smells. He gawks at the enormity of the structures in his surroundings. Nearby, a man screams something in a horribly unfamiliar language, “Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!” Not a man of many words, he utters to himself in disbelief, “Omm by Orphi’l’s beard, what have you done?” Before he can adjust himself even slightly, a man of substantial girth much like his own appears before him with a young lady in tow. Their uniforms are outlandish by lord Athural’s standards. Athural looks down and notices the crystals in his sword are glowing again in the calming aura. It is comforting to say the least. These are friends, he thinks. He takes console in this new fact that the sword can detect friend or foe. This is good. The large man before him peers at the strangely dressed Lord of Ka’Hazzan, but doesn’t look perplexed. As a superhero, there is not much that surprises. The wizened, hulking man that arrived on their doorstep is nothing too out of the ordinary for an SLJ. “Hello, I’m MegaTon. This…” He points at the young woman beside him, “…is Grey Widow. We are Sentinel’s of Liberty and Justice.” Athural merely frowns as their meaningless language escapes him. “You are standing in front of local Khazan’s SLJ headquarters. How may we help you?”
The greeters seemed friendly enough. The sword trusted them and that was good enough for him. At this point, Athural would’ve liked nothing more than to leave the outdoors that had assaulted his wits. He was yet tired and worn as well. There was much to discuss and a language barrier to pass. But first, rest. He smiled, placed his fist across his chest and kneeled to one knee in an unprecedented token gesture of Ka’Hazanian gratitude. He bowed his head and thought about his past life: a life that he knew he must leave behind. King Athural and his throne was no more. He thought hard and spoke with a slightly bitter voice, “Call me Pariah…”
Posted 01 September 2011 - 04:38 PM
Posted 08 September 2011 - 05:45 PM
Posted 08 September 2011 - 08:22 PM
Someone besides me.
0 user(s) are reading this topic
0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users