Mystics Apprentice

Well, it's my shift now! 0

Yevgeni Malachite, Elia Cabret, and Alderon Niles Yevgeni's eyes glittered with an unreadable expression as he listened to Eclaire's words. Finally he drew a step toward Nergodin, his rapier drawn at his side. "Your path is one which I cannot–will not–tread. Already I have taken the lives of those who did not deserve it, shed mass amounts of blood that will forever stain my hands and soil my grave. The least that can be done is preserve the life that remains, not destroy it. Odin, Nergal, whomever you are, I will stop you. Your dream dies here." The elf stood his ground; it seemed a sizable amount of the group stood alongside him–allies he never thought he could call allies. Some of which he'd stood alongside once before, but more often had stood against. His attention strayed toward Jynn as he spoke, though his words did not please his elven ears. "Perhaps it is you who should rise your head, my prince, for I am standing alongside you opposing him." Was Nergodin singular, plural, or had the two hearts merged? Initially Yev was uncertain, though Nergodin's next words did confirm his suspicion. One that he cared about, his gaze swept the crowd. Was it Jynn, his own son, or perhaps Mariel, who seemed to bear some connection to Odin? Yevgeni wasn't certain, though he did not linger long on the possibility that Nergal could mean himself. Elia meanwhile turned to Helios. "I saw you with her, when I was young," Elia murmured, eyes falling at Helios' feet shyly. "Ari was my sister's pet name. Her real name is Ariana. Ariana Cabret. I am her younger sister, Elia." She then lifted her head toward Nergodin, attempting to mask the fear that penetrated her heart. "You're wrong," she called out. "Peace is a state of being, something that we must all work together to strive for. Fey and humanity must continue to work on improvement, to be better than our ancestors and build a nation filled with peace and prosperity. What you envision is is annihilation, and I won't have it!" She readied her bow, though her hands shook violently. Alderon folded his arms over his chest, though said nothing. His allies voiced his heart, and now it was time to make Nergodin pay for his insolence. "Where is the djinni?" Alderon roared, turning his head to face his companions. "While he may not be able to return my sight, I would like to wish for guidance. Augment my senses, so that I may lend my blade to restore my fallen kingdom and bring an end to this hopeless soul. Raiden, it grieves me that you should have to end like this, though I know deep down that this is not your fault. I will release you from what binds you, my friend, so that your dream will not be scattered to the winds." With that the king bowed his head, bringing a hand to his chest plate. "Of that you have my word." (Not much to do for Athena, and I will have to think of what to do for Everyth later)

I think I am leaning more toward keeping them, personally. Signatures can be an expression of one's self and I do not see the harm in them. If someone doesn't want to have a signature personally they can just leave their field blank if they desire. On the flip side, @DChiuch I do see your point and that it can have a cluttered feeling throughout the forum and detract from the body of posts, though I think the benefit outweighs the negative, especially if signatures are near and dear to the hearts of most users. Overall I am rather neutral, though I think I favor signatures as opposed to removing them.

"Ah, I see." Kolm eyed the spirits with curiosity, especially Gnome who seemed rather displeased that Ceres had addressed her by the wrong name. "I do wonder how you acquired such creatures. From the lore that I once read, I thought such spirits were earned through trials, after scouring the corners of the earth to find them. Perhaps this is only in my world, and do forgive me, if so. I am coming to find that things are quite different from place to place." It surprised him when Undine corrected him about not being sprites, to which the youth's eyes widened in surprise before shifting to the ground as he bowed his head. "Oh, my apologies, Miss. I am ignorant in the ways of your world." It surprised him even more, however, when Slyph flew over and addressed his bandaged arm. He held it to his chest defensively, eyes shooting up to glare at her. "It does not concern you," he snapped, perhaps more harshly than he should have. "Just . . . some old wounds." He bit his lip, wondering if he snapped too hard, or if anyone else had drawn notice to his bandaged arm. Would they become curious? And, worse yet . . . was blood magic punishable by death in Haven, too? Kolm did not wish to find out. "I look forward to putting my skills to the test," Kolm said in response to Pang. "Though, for my first mission, I think I would like to venture with a vet such as you or Winona, if that would be all right."

Was he really? TIbarn appreciated the positivity, though he was not so certain that he could truly be helped. Instead he tried to change the topic, hoping to lighten the mood of the present situation. "Were you just talking to them?" he inquired, the link having been long severed from the rogue. "Where are they at? Maybe it's not too late to go to them." With that Tibarn rose to standing, leaning against the wall for support. Hang in there, you two, he thought, though did not intend for them to hear. He began to meander down the hall, though found his heart pounding furiously in his chest, forcing him to sit and draw in a few deep breaths.

Indeed, you are doing a great job keeping the RP rolling whilst managing such a heavy workload. The slower pace is better for me anyway. We will still be here, so worry not.

0 (Welcome back, Mythril. :))

Name: Vivi Original Appearance: Final Fantasy IX Alignment: Neutral Good Weapon: Mage's staff Appearance Bio: The black mage knows little about life, or the cycle of life, and has only recently developed a mind of its own and became aware of its own identity. Vivi, having been separated from his master, ventures the world in search of a purpose, and why he is different from all the others. He wonders if he has a family, or where he truly came from. Somehow he gets mixed up in this war-torn world, which he wishes to lend a helping hand in. His desire is to help others, though he is uncertain what fighting will truly do for himself. Special Abilities: While limited with physical combat, Vivi is quite the dangerous spell caster, and can use an array of black magic abilities with little repercussion to himself. Can cast advanced elemental magic spells in quick succession. Notes: Doesn't like being alone. Limit Break: Vivi can enter a trance where he can use two black magic spells within the same turn. These spells can be similar to one another, or unique entirely. (Since we have Chrono and Marle :D) Name: Janus Zeal Original Appearance: Chrono Trigger (Square) Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Weapon: Scythe Appearance: Bio: Janus lived in a lap of luxury as the prince of Zeal, a kingdom in the sky in the year 12,000 BC. Due to circumstances out of his control involving Lavos, his mother and sister, and the queen's terrible experiments, Janus was separated from his family–by thousands of years. He found himself in this war-torn world, struggling to survive and doing what he can to skirt danger. He has discovered his magical potential throughout his travels, and now, while desiring to stay away from combat, has found it nigh impossible to stay on his own anymore, and has begun looking for allies who would grant him salvation for his magical prowess. Special Abilities: Janus has been taught how to use a scythe during his temporary stay among imps called the Mystics (hence my name :D). Despite his small stature, he can wield in quite well. In addition Janus has unleashed his magical potential, chiefly specializing in elemental magic such as lightning, fire, ice, and darkness. Notes: Has a cat named Alfador, who is his only companion and reminder from his life back in Zeal. Limit Break: Eternal Darkness (casts shadow damage to all enemies) Tony Stark

So far I think that things are running rather smoothly, and that kinks from earlier have been straightened out. If I come across any further glitches or issues I will be sure to make a note of them here. In terms of design, it would be neat if there were different skins that members could choose from, or a darker theme altogether. The white is a bit bright to look at, though it is not bad.

Hey there, I have sent a message to DChiuch concerning this. We should be able to recover your account. You should be hearing from a staff member about this shortly when we figure out what is going on.

Your attempts are greatly appreciated. I shall throw Phoenix Downs to aid you!

Happy birthday, Kuni! I hope that you enjoy your special day. Let us celebrate with cake, ice cream, and good ol' gifs.

No worries; things happen.

I'm waiting for Solomond, because Tibarn was talking to him . . . .

Kolm tried to absorb the majority of Winona's explanation, though some of her terminology still alluded him. His brows furrowed as he finally questioned. "What are batteries?" He took a few more bites of his stew. Strangely the flavor seemed to improve the more that he delved into it. "It seems that there is much for me to learn. I did not know that electricity could be used to power such devices, though it is a clever notion, and something that I should bring back to my world if I ever return there." The cold mage felt like the caveman within Haven, though he didn't choose to point this out lest he embarrass himself further. The others seemed distracted enough in conversation that Kolm proceeded to respond to Lukkel, trusting that no one would really pay them much mind. "I have noticed a great amount of tension in the air," the raven-haired young man admitted. "Though I do not think it is directed toward us. Their friends have died and we have come to replace them; that would sting, I should think." Kolm drew a sip of his beverage, savoring the taste, before continuing. "No one has acted overtly aggressive toward us, so that is good. Well, except for Galla, but I did not like her anyway." All the attention was now on them as Lukkel introduced himself to the newcomers. Kolm nodded respectfully to Ceres, thinking inwardly ah, just what we need; another happy-go-lucky individual. "The name is Kolm Haranwy. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ceres, and Henry, and"–upon noticing the four spirits a frown furrowed Kolm's brow–"your . . . spritely friends. Do they help you in combat, perchance?"

--Yevgeni Malachite-- "I am not certain," Yev responded to Rabiyu's musing over the Source of All Life's usage. "Though it does appear–" He was unable to finish as he was hoisted up by none other than Queen Shiva's retainer. The elf couldn't help but smirk. "Eclaire," he started, though fell silent to hear what the woman had to say. Yevgeni's gaze softened once she was finished conveying her plea to himself and the rest of the individuals standing there, his previous mockery replaced with some other new expression. Was it respect? "I am willing to set our differences aside, Eclaire." He bowed his head respectfully toward the succubus, blond locks falling over his shoulder and into his face. "Alas, you would be correct. I will aid you and lend you my holy magic: a gift from Queen Shiva's father." His father, too, but for some reason he could not bring himself to say it. Stealing a sweeping glance over Eclaire, he gripped her sides and lifted her up, rising into the air as he did so. He allowed some of his magical energy to pour into her, though just as he prepared to throw her the winds began to die down. Yevgeni frowned. "Something is wrong," he said stiffly, still gripping Eclaire firmly and yet losing altitude. "I do not think this is wise–" An entirely new entity appeared in place of Odin and Nergal, this individual appearing to be a cross between both, and yet this seemed impossible. Yevgeni's boots clicked as they hit the ground, placing Eclaire tenderly down beside him as he withdrew his rapier from his sheath. "Who are you?" Yev demanded. "And how do you propose to make the Overworld 'better'? That term is . . . subjective." Yevgeni's gaze fell to Nergal's glaive gripped in one hand and his heart sank. This was indeed partially Nergal, or so it seemed. Nergal had vowed not to use the Source without him, and yet here he was. The elf felt saddened, disappointed, irritated, and . . . understanding. With Odin charging him it was likely that Nergal had no choice, and perhaps it wasn't of his own volition that he took the form that stood before them now. Regardless, things suddenly felt more grave. Yevgeni gripped the hilt of his rapier tighter, preparing to make his move depending on what Nergodin's response was. --Elia Cabret-- "Please take good care of him," Elia murmured to Mikhail, her gaze falling on Henry's pallid face. He could not die; she could not forgive herself if he did. Already they had lost too many friends as it were. The raven-haired girl tenderly planted a kiss on Henry's forehead, her eyes welling with tears before she quickly swept away. Everyth watched the scene with a curious expression, though said nothing as the fairy left. She joined Helios' side, giving him a nod as though encouraging him on. "Our worlds can stand united," Elia continued. "I have seen so much loss of life, so much bloodshed, and it has been between us fey! These poor humans just want to live in peace and harmony, and we are depriving them of that very chance. Our superiority complex is doing us no favors; only more and more people are continuing to get hurt." Her violet eyes met Helios, and it was then that she recognized him. It had been a very long time, so long since she had seen him. She had been such a young fairy then, and at the time she was mostly fixated on her sister to notice her friend. "You knew Ari . . . didn't you?" she whispered, eyes wide. "You were her friend. I remember now." --Alderon Niles-- "And if we join you, what then?" It did not take sight for Alderon to discern that something was amiss. There he stood, firmly planted several feet before Nergodin, claymore digging into the granite below their feet. He lifted his head in the speaker's direction, though his gaze fell to the ground. "I do not see how my ambitions are considered a 'mad wish'. You speak in riddles to me, which I am not fond of. So how about you answer me this, before we all charge in to take your life: what will you do with the worlds, if you were to so choose?"

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. Why? Because of those Wallmasters; they had me terrified as a kid. But seriously, I do not play many scary games. I don't get much enjoyment out of a scare, or horror in general.

The situation was going from bad to worse. Thankfully Tibarn couldn't hear Solomond's attempt at mental communication, else he would've gone into a greater flight of panic. Tibarn knew that his wound was grievous, though he didn't think that it warranted cauterization. The thought made him shudder, yet he understood that he needed to cooperate if he desired to survive. "Look, Solomond, just focus on them," Tibarn said finally, unrolling a package of gauze that he found and stuffing it into his wound. "They need your help if they want to survive, and the ship needs them to survive if it ever wants to go on another voyage. I'm sure that I'll figure out . . . something." A thought occurred to the brunet, albeit probably not a favorable one, yet one all the same. "Hey, Addie's got some shady friends in this space station. They own some kind of apothecary but deal in wet smuggling. Maybe I should hop over to this guy's place and see if he can't help us?"–Tibarn grimaced, his perplexing growing pale–"or rather, perhaps he ought to do the skipping. It's Apothecary Sal, if I recall right, and his name's Eddie. What d'you think?" Or cauterize the wound, Tibarn thought, though he really was not looking forward to that possibility. Dang, why did he have to take on those losers the way that he had?

The raven-haired young man noticed a shift in Lukkel's mood from their arrival, which struck him as curious. He seemed . . . irritated? Impatient? Upset? Kolm wasn't quite certain how to properly gauge the emotions of his new friend, though it did unnerve him a little to see Lukkel so out-of-character. Or, at least, the character that he had known upon his arrival. Lifting the bowl to his lips, he sipped in some of the stew's broth before his eyes fell upon two newcomers: Henry and Ceres. "Hello," he started to say to both Henry and Ceres, though they were quick to engage with Pang. It seemed that everyone here was a close-knit group, which did enthuse Kolm to an extent. He was unfamiliar with camaraderie and friendship. Those he'd been employed under were never . . . particularly friendly, let alone someone that he would want to work with. "Something the matter?" Kolm eventually hissed at Lukkel, when the others were–hopefully–not paying attention and too busy interacting with Pang. (No worries at all about taking some extra time to respond. You were still quite timely. . Real life comes first. I hope that all is well)

Kolm's eyes ignited with joy as his bowl of soup was placed tenderly in front of him by the automated servant. Not at the soup, but by the servant who served it. "Fascinating!" Kolm cried, intrigued by the servant as it swept away. "Does magic keep it running as well?" Perhaps this line of work would become quite interesting. Already Kolm grew less and less interested in interrogating the higher-ups and more so in the environment. There would be much to see and do, and he partially could not wait to get started. He scooped a spoonful of soup, watching it steam in front of him for several moments before he took a bite. His expression changed from blissful, to curious, to hesitant. Kolm glanced down at the bowl. "I had ordered Uzume stew," he said, frowning at a chunk of meat that hovered near the surface. "But, uh . . . what kind of meat is that? It is like none that I have ever tasted." It then occurred to him that he would probably regret asking, to which he shook his head. "You know what . . . tell me another time, perhaps. Right now I am famished, and I do not feel like vomiting anymore today." He took in all that Winona had to say, considering the possibility of tasks at hand while carefully chewing a bite of his stew. Eventually he swallowed, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and said: "So it sounds like there is not a considerable amount of risk involved in the job, unless you want to take it. That is good. I like that we have options, and that we don't have to kill people if we don't wish to." Kolm's aqua eyes flittered around the room, scanning the cafeteria for the woman (Lucia) he'd seen on the outskirts of the arena earlier that day. He would've fancied meeting her, if he found the opportunity.

What a kiss-up, Kolm thought to himself as he watched Lukkel praise Galla. Perhaps his friend genuinely liked her, though he could not ever imagine why. There was positively nothing to like about Galla, in Kolm's opinion. Sure, she did appear rather stunning, and those eyes were entrancing–but that was it. Her demeanor was colder than even Kolm's, and, being a cold mage, that said something. Kolm fell in line behind Winona, though the raven-haired man didn't particularly like the fact that she had to summon everyone. He admired the halls and the simple yet elegant decor selected throughout. It crossed his mind that perhaps the staff had chosen it rather than the higher-ups, if what Winona stated were true about them and that they didn't grace the others with their presence. Once they arrived Kolm couldn't help noticing the somberness that filled the air. It struck him as curious, making him wonder if perhaps things were always this grim here in Haven, but then he recalled that he, Lukkel, and several others were brought in as replacements. Replacements of their fallen friends. I wonder if they will resent us for it, Kolm thought, stealing a sideways glance at Winona as she took a seat and proffered the one at her side. It seemed as though Winnie still looked upon them fondly enough, even if the loss of her fellow companions did strike her hard. Kolm had experience with simple cafeterias: food laid out, which you would select and then pay for. This method of ordering was entirely new and exhilarating to him, however. He fingered the screen tentatively, uncertain of how machines worked. "This is a . . . machine, did you call it?" Kolm's lips twisted into an odd smile. "We didn't have anything like this in my home world. Incredible! Is it run off of magic?" It certainly felt like magic to Kolm as he flipped through the various screens, trying to determine what he would like. Most of which he had never even heard of before. He settled on a simple sandwich of bacon, lettuce, and tomato, with a side of soup that he was unfamiliar with. As he awaited his meal he folded his hands in his lap, turning to Winona on her left side as he inquired: "So . . . when do you think we will be given our first mission? And how does it work? I think I heard something about . . . disappearing, was it, if we don't act often enough?"

Please do not choke, my friend. We can certainly wait as long as need be!

I believe that he is working a lot, most likely. I haven't seen him much as of late. Perhaps PM?

Winona had a great deal of useful information to offer Kolm, which he was certain that he could make use of later. He was convinced that this dark-haired girl would make an excellent companion. Perhaps making himself at home in Haven wasn't going to be quite so challenging, after all. Kolm was musing over a response to offer Winnie when Lukkel returned. He seemed much more refreshed than he had moments ago, which pleased him. Kolm clapped the youth on the shoulder, his aqua gaze intensely boring into him. "Worry not, though I am wondering what got into you just a moment ago. That was . . . unusual behavior." Perhaps it sounded rude, but Kolm wasn't certain how else to address it. Amidst the moment it seemed that the battle commenced, Pang emerging as the victor of the match below. Kolm's gaze flicked over to Lucia, his curiosity burning with an odd intensity as to her identity. Why was he so curious? What would it matter? He knew next to nothing about her, and why should he care? Yet he did, which was infuriating to him. "Anyway," Kolm said finally, tearing his gaze from the two. "I think I am going to go exploring around Haven a bit more, perhaps see about finding something to eat. Winona, do you happen to know where the cafeteria is? I believe that Pang was going to show us, but decided to head to the arena instead."

Upon Odin's prayer the blue crystal began to glow, its eerie light casting a blue aura upon the faces nearby. A loud hum filled the chamber, though only the words spoken could be heard by Odin and, ironically, Nergal. It seemed as though several voices were speaking, though their words were perfectly synchronized, its voice being neither masculine nor feminine. "Odin One-Eye," it said, its words falling to Odin and Nergal alone. "We have awaited your arrival for many a millennia and knew this day would come. Inside your heart may be a desire for power, yet your desires for that power are darker still. We have awakened from our slumber and descended upon the Overworld due to a great loss, in order to revive that which has been devoid of all life. Your use of us is not in our design, and yet we will not prohibit you from your wish. The results, however, may not be as you would envision them." With that, a wind began to blow through the changeless city, slow at first before picking up into a violent gust. It began to swirl around Odin, ensnaring him in a mini typhoon, though Nergal, too, was barely caught within its radius. What should happen if Nergal were to do anything to prevent Odin from obtaining the Source's power? Yevgeni Malachite The blond said nothing to Rabiyu's words of optimism, the fellow elf believing in his ability to change. His loyalty to his late father was unwavering, though his ambition had indeed wavered. Several times, in fact. In his heart he secretly doubted his actions, though he did not voice his concerns to the others. Odin was a nice distraction from his inner reflection, albeit an unwelcome one. The Mystran Lord seemingly embraced the Source of All Life as his own, having snatched it up from his friend and fellow comrade. Yevgeni shot a glare at Soren, whose words cut through him nearly as sharp as any blade. "To what are you insinuating, traitorous demon?" he snapped. "That I will not aid him, or switch sides so flippantly that I might as well be trying on hats? That was you, dear friend, and not me. At least I have been consistent in my dealings, even if they were abhorrent." He flicked his blond locks over his shoulder, emerald eyes flashing over toward the position where Nergal and Odin stood. "However, you would be correct. Nergal has not known me for long, but never have I seen such a loyal soul, willing to do the bidding that even I myself couldn't be entrusted with. He has followed me through it all, and I cannot abandon him. Even if we haven't seen eye-to-eye always, I must at least do my part and aid him." With that, he turned toward his new temporary allies, eyes falling upon his nephew, Jynn. "Your Highness, I would advise you to not get too close to Odin just yet. The humans and fey of Kilkis Seres need you alive. Without you, who else could possibly lead them to prosperity? Allow me and Lady Eliltari to take up the front." Yev nodded toward Rabiyu respectfully, entirely ignoring Soren–deliberately–and gliding along the battlefield swiftly. Not swiftly enough, however, for before he could make a motion toward Odin he found himself and Nergal to be ensnared by the winds of the Source of All Life. "No," he murmured, eyes darting between them frantically. "There's no way that this could be happening. Not like this." Elia Cabret and Everyth Castanova "Please don't let him die," implored the fairy, glancing at the Witcher with a tear-stained face. "Do what you must. We have come so far." Even still, Elia was blaming herself for Henry's current affliction. Never would she have guessed that the Mystran Lord would betray even his own, but had Elia not insisted she wasn't so sure that Henry would've been within the line of fire that he had. A handkerchief was visible from the corner of Elia's eye, which she turned to accept. It was being extended by an elderly woman, her violet gaze vibrant and fixated on Henry. "He will be alright," she assured Elia. "I've seen him go through worse, or nearly. Henry is strong, and he knows that we need him. He'll pull through, child, just watch."