Vaude

I can see both still, but if you cannot see it, Sora's Baby, look up "xeno'jiiva" and pull up Google or Bing images. It is a strong and very pretty crystal dragon, a perfect specimen for us to fight as a test of strength.

This is a good thought, and one that was incorporated into some roleplays to a degree (in that if they do not reply within three days to a week that the plot can move on without the slower posting people to keep the flow of events). I believe we the players would be trusting of each other to use their characters for one or a few posts, as we knew each other for some time, though how about it is not direct controlling and instead taking lead of the party? For instance, if Jake or Eclaire is silent, the other player double-posts to jumpstart the next action. I like the idea, regardless, so good on you, Heart.

Adamina shook her head with a sigh as she followed her two comrades with her eyes, watching from another rooftop. Stealth and secrecy was not Tibarn's forte, she assumed, but the coast was clear, and she was ready to keep him in line. With a false step into the air, she kicked off the flat roof of the building and descended to ground level with three sets of flaps, landing harmlessly into the alleyway. From there she made her way to the others, gaze wary, hand worriedly feeling for her staff. Her weapon of choice recently had a tendency of dropping out of her Loft-made pouch at bad times, and no matter how much stitchwork she added to the bag there always seemed to be a hole to patch next time. Perhaps the antimatter fitting in her telescopic staff was leaking, a cause of the staff striking something hard, but she was careful with the tip. Someone of the crew must have been playing with it if so. Tibarn, likely. Nevertheless, she would have to fix the issue if that were so. With nothing occurring, she meandered her way to behind Daniel and Tibarn, ready to see this mission through to the end. If they can gain access to Greyhawk's ship, getting rid of Greyhawk would be easy with a well-placed gas trap set up inside of the entry or the airlocks. There were cameras to consider, and whatever crew remained inside, acting as Solomond did to them. She hoped this would not be too much of a deterrent, much less a pain in the neck. She craved some action greater than knocking out a hungry flayer.

- Rufus Contralto, within the Hall of Illusory Objects, Part 3 - Within seconds, the voice died down to garbles before all sounds, all noises, cut out. Rufus expected more, for whatever reason, his ears ready for more, his eyes closed so that he can concentrate on the sounds, but when he gave up and opened his eyes he saw nothing. Blackness stretched across his world of vision, though when he looked down he could see himself without issue. It was a curious sensation, though he quickly found out the reason when a wide grin yawned out from horizon to horizon in front of him. "Do you remember now what was done to us?" burbled Nihil, his teeth visibly bobbing up and down like rising and falling mountains. "They used us, those of this world. At first they bifurcated us, and then they again and again received wishes at no cost of themselves and every cost of us. Only fragments of memories of our past life are available to us, and less and less are available after every wish. You understand now? Our own being is the fuel for others' happiness." Rufus frowned deeply, then decided to test it out, sifting through his memories in order to find the ones he thought of as of the recent weeks. He could feel their presence, but he could also feel their hollowness. It was as if they existed, yet no recollection can be made. The girl with long hair, the motley crew of . . . someone. Even what he did was a blur, though he did remember that he was a playwright, and he did remember Mouse from somewhere. Come to think of it, Nihil appeared to remember them too. Was it because this world, or whatever it was, was based around Rufus' own mind? "Who knows what happens once we are spent of recollection?" continued the shade, eyes without pupils erupting from the inky blackness. "Do we devolve into mere wish-granting artefacts, the very lamps we are sealed into, or will we become more and more mindless, more corrupted? Neither sounds good to me." The eyes dwindle into slits, stretching over the very long grin into similar long lines. "I desire out of this samsara, but I cannot do it alone. You need to make the conscientious choice of rejoining those people who abuse your ability . . . or fighting your servitude and protecting what we have left, or regain it back. Like he said ages ago, that hippie: we are resolute, and we are independent. Given the choice, we can stay here and make everything right in your own private world, or we can ensure our full resurrection by having others wish for our memories and our forms back, through trickery, if we must! We need--" Enough words!" shouted Rufus, his gaze fierce enough to silence Nihil. The eyes without pupils reopened and stared. "I appreciate the thought of our well-being, ol' buddy ol' chum, but we cannot skirt honour for results!" The great darkness chipped away into tiny streaks of white, as if veins long stressed were surfacing under a new burden. "You would doom us to slavery without memory for honour? All has been stripped from us, and you don't want to claim it because of a few stupid ties?!" the darkness shrieked, knocking Rufus back into a memory. A girl, her brown hair long, her green eyes full of life. She is smiling. She is vibrant and full of promise. Whoever she was, she was important for some reason. She held out her hand with a herb palmed within. "What about her?!" cried out Nihil, dragging him back into their discussion. "You crossed dimensions, seeking some way to find her, to be with her. You are going to let that drift away?!" "I . . . of course not!" called back Rufus, feeling shaken. Who was that girl? "Then abandon that tripe! Claim what we want, what we need. We need not deal with the casual whims of wishmakers when we can make our own path." Rufus bit down on his tongue, swaying both ways, struggling to think up the best solution, before he reached a final decision. "I will stick to what I am doing. Abandoning my morals for myself is like losing myself, but far better would it be to lose your process of thought than that, so stop your harping! You gab too much, so begone! Vamoose! Or, you know, however I get rid of you." Nothing happened for a period of ten seconds or so, and the glare coming from Nihil was intense and never lessened. The grin was unbearably growing into wild hillocks and dales. "It seems I have to do things myself. Force you, in other words." Rufus opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. Tendrils of darkness, darker than the ulterior inkiness, reached out towards him in order to snare him. Angry, flustered, and just not in a good mood, Rufus held out his hand. The darkness faded into light everywhere he pointed his palm, and Nihil snarled furiously, his grin erased into a blank canvas in some areas. "HOW DARE YOU!" the shade shrieked. It strove to rebuild itself, but Rufus did not let the reconstruction happen. Instead, the nullifying power grew and grew until it consumed every last bit of darkness around him. He was back to the realm with Mouse, White Elephant in the Room, and Aunt Margaret, and he smiled a beaming smirk as he breathed in the fresh air and proceeded to cough violently. "Too fresh," he wheezed between breaths, then sniffled and returned to conversation. "False Mouse, you are all right? You too, Whitey?" Double trumpets sounded off from the two pachyderms, followed by some sort of shrugs. "Good!" Rufus answered, still smiling like an idiot. "Now, where's the door around here?" Both pointed in opposite directions, one straight in front of him and the other behind him. Aunt Margaret just stared from behind the curtain in her creepy, creepy way. "Thank you. I'll go right, then! Adios! May I see your real variants sometime soon after I'm done with my biz." With a bow and an imaginary taking off of a hat, he struck off into the distance and, as suddenly as he appeared, disappeared after reaching for a door handle and tugging the portal open. He was back to reality, and yet seemed even more silly than ever, kicking his heels together whimsically as he zipped off to join the rest of the group.

*resurrects from the grave*, I HAVE RETURNED FOR BR--brains? Where is everyone? Yeah, it has, for some reason or another.

"Behind this mask, this very mask . . . is another mask! Pretty cool, right?" Also, flowing cape, even in a no-wind environment? GASP! Rhaedyn is Chrom of Fire Emblem: Awakening!

- Odin, at the final door of the labyrinth - Needless to say, Odin felt relief as his hand passed through the flames, uninjured of any kind. The potion puzzle was untampered with and understood by a fair share of the company, though he was unhappy to see that Xion was among the first to step through. Had she no thanks for the group for figuring out the puzzle for her? Maybe he did not care to know. Succubi were a branch of sentients he did not care much to affiliate with. He slipped through the black flames, feeling them as cool to the touch, and walked on through the Labyrinth with the others. The path was straightforward, without twists and choices, and he soon spilled with his affiliates into a room with tall ceilings, stained glass, and a great door. The stained glass caught his eye in particular, an oddly placed structure, while graceful and elegant, for the floor of the room. He skirted around it and glanced around the room with search magic active, seeking traps left by previous individuals who dared venture this far into the labyrinth, or maybe those of the labyrinth itself. He did not quite trust the situation, though others seemed to be gathered here for the time being. Perhaps it was safe enough with that keyless door standing sentry over the unique exit to the room. - Rufus Contralto, in the Halls of Illusory Objects (Part 2) - Mouse did not waste much time before putting her glass of water away behind her ear and drawing a curtain to Rufus' right with her massive trunk wrapped around an oversized drawstring. Rufus did not bat much of an eyelash about this, having not had the time to even think about looking right when he spent not nearly enough time looking in front of him and to the left, but when he looked intently to his marvelous right he squinted tightly. Darkness loomed within the shaded curtain room hidden behind the initial curtain wall, but that was not all that lurked within. Following the footfalls of a thousand spider-snakes in unison, a bellow called out from within, as well as a misshapen, apish head which jutted into the light. Rufus gasped. "Oh my, Aunt Margaret! You are looking the worse for wear!" he voiced in shock. The creature stared awkwardly, then shook its head, then rolled its eyes, and slithered (or was it scampered, judging from the noise and motions?) to the side of the room to reveal the real test. Inside an inky blackness was showcased, with shining eyes and a shining smile. It seemed familiar, very familiar, even. "Well, look who's back, a loon of the highest caliber waiting to be tested," burbled the voice of the shadowy creature, its smile growing as it spread outside of the curtain with inky tendrils that grew and grew in size and intricacy. "And who are you again? I haven't the knack for names, so you'll have to bear with me! Fred, right?" Rufus commented, puzzling over the shade. "Fred? What a waggish name. Nihil is my real name, which I find suiting, don't you?" "Eh," simply grunted Rufus with a shrug. "Regardless of your preferences, which, from what I heard between you and your "girlfriend," can be quite scandalous in some circles, you will be given a challenge, and that challenge is me, but you do not remember me, do you?" Rufus squinted harder at the smiling creature as it rescinded into an inky, humanoid shape, with an impressive tricorne hat and a decorative rod of onyx. His stomach sank a little. It was the spitting image of him, only much more dapper. "I see you do," chortled the blackened creature, erupting into endless tendrils of darkness again. Mouse and the other elephant quivered nearby as the wisps lapped the air next to them, then consumed them within a jet whirlwind. The sounds of tearing flesh penetrated the air in unnerving fashion. While the two elephants were not real, Rufus felt sorry for the creatures, especially for the false Mouse. "I'm part of you, or was, anyway, though I was ripped from you to segregate something," the being continued. "Do you remember that, perhaps? That accursed hippie sundering us, when we used to be one? Think hard. Think deep." Rufus frowned as he probed the depths of his own mind, searching for that moment. It was a fool's errand with such holes in his memory, but after some time he managed to recall something, flashing remnants of a distant past. "This should complete it, Alexander. The rite is finished, and your daughter so dear to your heart has been sealed with the power of the newly erected barrier you requested. But, did we have to incorporate the strange thespian? His soul, split as it is, will only become more and more resolute and independent, and there is no tell--" Garbled noises interjected the speaker, as if it came through a machine. It was painful, but it soon rang clear again. "It seems you both have powers greater than you originally had, and are similar to the genies in the lamps of the Hezār Afsān. An odd side effect. Typically they are negative, but perhaps this is negative. How sad a life you must lead later, to give wishes and yet not receive your own, but it is for the good of all. My heart is heavy for you, but you must be parted further, and sealed away. The results of your reunion would be . . . calamitous at best, so I will seal you like in the Hezār Afsān: in lamps. Silence reigned for a time, then shifted into irritating garbles again. Where in the world did that stupid noise come from, and why was it like that? "Pardon the inconvenience for your choices of lamps. I can see you both now. You both cannot see me, but I did so for your protection, and for others. One of your wishes I have tested rang true in full without issue, and the other came true in horrific fashion. Now comes the worst of what I have to do. You must part ways with me, cleanly, never to come back. You are vital to the success of nations. I cannot risk your fusion for the sake of you both. This is goodbye." -- -- -- -- -- ((Part 3 of 3 INCOMING! Phew, what a handful this scene is. This is lasting longer than originally thought.))

Spoilers to anyone who did not watch the latest episode of Overworld because you do not have exclusive next-day access like me:

Definitely not. You should visit a park sometime, grab a book and read on a rock, or do just about anything outdoors. If you have grass in your region, dig your toes into it. They will thank you later.

Me too, SB, me too. =3

- Odin, at the Vial Puzzle - Odin partially had to agree that the idea was good, as wine served as a strong dilutant for most medicines, and not just poisons, however Sifrei was correct. Potion makers preferred neutral water as the dilutant to not break down the magical components, but the maker of the riddle likely made it possible to serve more than one the potion to move forward. That is what he would have done, and if this did not work he would have to come up with a different solution. He still had the Infiltrator's, or his, rather, abilities at his disposal. He could teleport everyone to the room across, but that would leave him weakened for the fight he expected ahead. "If all are in agreement on the locations of each liquid, I see no harm in trying this. Cheers to you, Alderon," Odin voiced with a smile, taking the phial next from Alderon and imbibing two sips before giving it again to the human king. He felt something happening within him, faint, but there. Next was a risky action the Lord of Mystras performed: he stepped up to the ebon flames and, after the slightest motion of hesitance, swept his hand through the flame in a testing motion. Whatever happened next happened, though he felt certain the flames would accept his passage through them. - Rufus Contralto, within the Halls of Illusory Objects - Rufus zipped on ahead, notwithstanding the fact that Aqua may or may not have answered with her name or regarding her directional choice, and soon entered a very strange section of the labyrinth where the walls erased themselves and revealed a location he only envisioned in his dreams. A pink marshmallow world with cotton candy clouds, chubby walrus men, and a chocolate-chip-cookie sun awaited him, as well as someone he recalled from the enormous gulf of several hundred years. "MOUSE!" he shrieked jubilantly, tottering over to her with surprising difficulty. It was then that he realised that he was standing on the ground, real solid ground, or as real as he assumed it to be at any rate. The giant elephant with a petunia stuffed behind her left ear turned her tusked head toward him and let out a bellow, batting her pretty eyes with her pretty lashes. That was about the only redeeming quality to her in terms of appearance, really. Her grey body was lumpy, her skin thick and covered with bristles, and her legs were the width of sequoia trunks, not really matching the loveliness of her olivine tutu. He hugged her tight, nuzzling into the harsh hairs on her trunk and furthermore was tossed about by said appendage. He laughed giddily as he hung on until she stopped. "Oh, Mouse, you remembered our ceremonial greeting! I also remembered your favourite food. I kept it in my pocket all this time, though I don't really remember why. Here you go!" He dove into his pocket and found the smallest of its kind, a dead mouse that really has seen better days. Bigger Mouse eyed the critter skeptically but took it regardless, inhaling it through her tremendous snout. Rufus thought he saw one of her forelegs have a small lump move along it after the mouse was inhaled. Did she have a stomach cavity in her legs? He thought it rude to ask, so he put it behind him. "I'm surprised I recalled your love for absorbing all of your lesser name-sharers after all this time! I hope it tasted good. So, what's up, Mousey? What made you cross dimensions here after all this while?" Mouse trumpeted shyly (can elephants sound shy?) and pointed towards Rufus' left. He had never thought about looking in that direction before, but at her behest he turned and witnessed a larger elephant, as ivory-white as his tusks and with larger sequoia thighs. He seemed to be in a room that was built shoddily around him, and his ears flapped angrily in a wild breeze. "You want to talk about the elephant in the room? Okay, what about him?" Trumpet. "You are marrying him?! But he's so antisocial! So unlike me!" Trumpet trumpet. "Okay, so he is a good square dancer and he does have elegant taste -- he is a white elephant after all -- but you-know-who is a better one! Why, I taught you all how to square dance, or don't you remember that?" Overblown whistle. "Fine, if that's how you want to play that game, but remember that I was imprisoned in that dimension in the first place. I . . . hey, wait, I was, wasn't I? I was summoned there, dissected, and given genie powers and . . . wait, why am I here?" Mouse looked confused, batted her eyes once more, and offered a random glass of water, which he brushed aside. "No, thank you, Mouse. I'm onto something, something big! I was in that dimension -- am in that dimension -- and my wish was used and abused over and over until I met with a group of individuals and travelled to a kooky place called Isopolis and . . . you . . . you are not real, are you?" Mr. White Elephant in a Room blew a noise angrily. "Pipe it down, Whitey! Maybe figure out a trade and be useful for once in your 699 years instead of eating charity peanuts!" Rufus called out, his little chest surging with breath, in, out, in, out. "But he's not real either, is he? I forgot where I was for a moment. It felt like time only lapsed by a month for some reason, but it really is closer to six hundred years. This must be a falsehood, an illusory hall of objects in which I wander lost, a trial! Does that mean you are here to test me, Fake Mouse? You too, Fake White Trumpeter?" Mouse looked sheepishly around the area and brought her head down low, braying sadly. "Then get it over with, imitator. The sooner I am done with you, the sooner I can help my allies." ((End 1 of 2.))

I can see the resemblance with his father, Odin. =P

Ah, I misunderstood partially, but you are welcome, and I hope you will find some solid friends out there, in class or otherwise!

That is never a fun sensation. I'm like that too, especially with failing friendships or ones that are so one-sided. Remember, however, that you have your friends and family to bounce ideas off of. Keep your chin up, and hopefully the situation will resolve itself on your end, Voc.

Tibarn soon popped out of the same exit Daniel took, which relieved Adamina slightly, though seeing him brush up against Daniel in hopes of listening in made her sigh and chuckle in the most bird-like fashion possible. Always count on Tibarn to do something out of the ordinary and change the setting. "Once the stage is clear, I'll join you two. Until then, I'll stick close in the shadows of this station," she commented towards her teammates, shimmying along the top of the building in a free-run and taking off to the next building. She breathed with difficulty shortly after landing. While she naturally quickly regenerated her energy and stamina, she could only count on short boosts in terms of fight and flight, a difficulty of being away from her home world for so long and being out of practice of flying everywhere. This method, however, would make her much less visible to the public eye, which made her a better scout than afoot. She scanned the surrounding area for anything troublesome, whether it be the security of that bar or something else.

- Odin, in the potion room of Isopolis with mixed company - Coming up with the same answer in a similar manner but different order as Sifrei, at relatively the same time as the angel, Odin nodded his head in agreement, and also puzzled over the same thing as Alastor. There was not enough drink for three, so one would have to backtrack manually and the other two can drink the potions provided. "I'll join the other two, then, and govern their safety, if they need assistance backtracking. You two can debate over who goes ahead and who goes behind, but we will meet again, assuredly. Good luck." He turned toward the others, curiosity in his expression as he observed the two newcomers. One was all emotion, whereas the other was taciturn and unreadable. Neither suited his personality, but if it meant backtracking to a good choice or checking out an untravelled branch in the paths on his own later so be it. - Rufus, answering Aqua in Snake Haven - "Well, let me answer little ol' you!" remarked Rufus to Aqua, appearing in front of her with a wide, all-knowing grin on his beardless face, even if he knew precious little of all. "Those other folks fell into this snake hole while we all went down a labyrinth and came across some boxes. A loud BRRRSH! happened, and Senior Snakey-chan-san went through the wall of crates, landing with a BOOM! Everyone crawled through into the snake pit, then headed back out of it, and now here we are! Ready to sally forth and catch up, Lady, er . . . ?" he voiced haltingly, not entirely remembering Aqua's name.

Adamina narrowed her eyes at Solomond's last feed of information. The station itself being Captain Greyhawk's ship? Eddie had a lot of explaining to do if he knew this essential tidbit of information before she left. This meant his reach stretched much larger than anticipated. It also meant that they had to be even more cautious about extracting information through dialogue, maybe even switch to gaining said information through technology rather than oral conversation. However, if they can get people to be alone, they had a pusher. Daniel could gain all the knowledge he needed and Greyhawk would be none the wiser. She continued out of the establishment and flew upwards, diving behind some cover in the overlying buildings and keeping track of Daniel's location, considering he too spilled out of the bar. Now for Tibarn. "Come on, you drinking layabout," she muttered. "Escape."

- Odin, in Isopolis' Maze and Onward - Feeling like the others had everything covered as far as the buzz saw and guillotine trap was concerned, Odin paused at the entrance and watched their unique magic with keen interest. Alastor and Sifrei made short work of the garnered deathtraps, and a unique weapon was crafted from them with only a handful of draconic words of power. However unwieldy it seemed, considering the assumed weight of all of the buzz saws, the shiny new sword held some power. It certainly was not Zweishock, Raiden's weapon of choice, which had just about that sword's mass, though if anyone were to successfully wield it the strength and weight of the weapon would be enough to batter almost any foe to the point of exhaustion and afterward death. "Well done, you two," he gave voice as he emitted a smile, impressed by the way that the others had made use of the skills they had to not only evade the snares placed, but remove the threat of them entirely with great finesse. Their skillset was vastly different from his own. Vocal inflection held great power and had its varying uses, though he preferred the more dependable channeling of magic through the body and whatever weapons he could grasp. Stepping into the room with a wary eye and passing the others by, he churned search magic within his empty eye socket. Instead of seeing through the flesh, he witnessed the world around him through the mind, though the room beyond seemed only filled with the table and its varying potions. Indeed, like Sifrei denoted, another puzzle awaited them, and this one, upon inspection of the slip of paper, was challenging. He cycled through the riddle, paying little attention to gracing the armoured individual and his female cohort with a nod. His search magic read around him and detected their shapes, but who they were was irrelevant when they seemed neutral, little more than a search party. "Protect and use, if there is such a median," he commented towards Rhaedyn, then again towards Xion. "You are better off backtracking, milady. She took a different path at the entrance of Isopolis. Straight, if I recall right." The others could answer Rhaedyn further if need be, but this puzzle required his attention if he, Alastor, and Sifrei wanted to proceed quickly. "Three killers, two to the left of nettle wine . . . oho, I see, I see. And only singular dwarves and giants, so only one large and one small, which fits the potions well. This should not take me more than a moment to solve. My only hope is that these potions were not tampered by others." - Rufus Contralto, with others in the Cobra Cavern of Capriciousness - Rufus, mostly ignored but earning a few imaginary bouts of praise and encores, bowed towards his "audience" and blew out kisses to the world before putting away his invisible pompoms. The others were continuing onward, it seemed, and into a glowy maze once more, so he stayed back and signed off his autographs to whoever was available. ((He'll stay behind until necessary.))

With great efficacy! A thousand thanks! These oranges will make great marmalade, or even great orange slices for dear ol' Flick! But how can I repay you for your generosity? Surely--wait, I'm getting a vibe or something! You can have all of my turkey bacon and EB eggs, regularly procured by robot chefs that work part-time as George Foreman grills on a daily or weekly basis!

At least there are video games to console the horridness that is boredom. =D

- Odin, within the second trial and maze of Isopolis - With the din of a shriek and further commotions, it was evident that someone, somewhere, had fallen victim to one of Isopolis' many snares, and Odin assumed that they might very well do the same thing. Jynn could handle himself and others on whatever path they travel, besides the possibility of his doing poorly at logic riddles, and he trusted in his own ability to handle situations as well, so the answer came clear to him as to which path to take. "I will take the straight path, in such a case, and leave the right path to you, Jynn," he brought up, the slightest of smiles lit upon his face, even if he was highly skeptical of the path he chose. If the path was more than a survival challenge, a riddle, or some sort of other grave trap, he did not care to play nice with the possibility of failing at getting to the Source of All Life. If the suspected culprits of many a crime got to it first, the Overworld will fall into a state of utter uniformity, chaos, or impracticality. He could not allow this, not without recompense. He took a glance at the golden weapon in his hand, the blade itself flickering ominously in the blue light before maintaining its dull yellow glow. Lysander was a rarity in comparison to other swords. It reacted to him as a mirror would, the owner's true emotions and true self being presented to only the one handling Lysander. It gave him reassurance in the best and worst of times, and other times it gave him the shock he needed to survive tragedies and come out stronger. Furthermore, it had more than the simple use of rending flesh; it had the ability to make a person's comprehension malleable as well, imparting some understanding to those that it cut, and yet leaving no mark on them while doing so. It was the perfect weapon for him, one sharp in physical warfare and sharper in psychological warfare. - Rufus, within a giant mess of a situation in the maze of Isopolis - Much had occurred while Rufus was hovering about deep in thought. For one, a giant snake came crashing through the wall in front of the party, landing about three feet away from him with another giant creature tangled up with it. He looked in its direction, just a casual glance, before winding up and shouting at the top of his little lungs "HOLY CHEESE WHEELS!" Thankfully nobody seemed hurt, and no matter what it likely a direct hit of both creatures would not have affected him in the slightest, thanks to his intangibility, but it also made him not very effective in a fight. His usefulness was limited to sealing magic and granting wishes, and tangoing with two massive critters in a group battle was about as sensible to him as mixing up a bowl of fruit punch in the centre of the earth. As a result, he zipped into the room through the scenario, grabbed his imaginary cheerleader pom-poms, and put on an act. "Rick 'em, rack 'em, rock 'em, rake! Stick that sword into that snake!" he chanted, getting very much into the groove of cheering on his compatriots. In fact, he threw out his arms and legs to the max with every movement, accentuating every motion with his eclectic facial expressions. ((Since Endless did it, I thought I would reference Disney films as well, *wink*.))

Oh, come now, gents. I doubt that neither of you have thought about kissing a significant other under a crashing snake and basilisk before.

- Odin, with those who chose the Melchior Gate in Isopolis - Odin was in agreement with Prince Jynn, but some of the group seemed disinterested in the possibility of going together. He took the first steps into the middle path, scouting the path for tripwires or other traps. He had his suspicions with the guards at the entrance, a weak cast of sentries that hardly stood a chance against those gathered here. What if they were plants, nameless individuals under the influence of someone different than the late queen or Yevgeni? Unfortunately, nobody bothered checking their faces, but he kept up his guard just in case something was afoot within the labyrinth itself. The last thing he wanted now was a real surprise to him, and he made preparations for such a thing. Testing his magic assured that it worked. The subspace rip before Odin unearthed his age-old spatha sword, which upon inspection was still as oiled and clean as the day he last wielded it. Time had no effect on materials in the other plane of existence. Neither Raiden nor the Infiltrator were able to perform this kind of ability due to their nature of being halves of a whole, nor did they have the full effects of his gains at the Well of Wisdom. The blade shone a pale golden glow in the blue light, its surface made of fine orichalcum brass. Lysander-- how he missed this sword, and now it was here once more, ready to defend its wielder should things turn for the worse.

Strangely enough I am able to see it, but if there are others wondering what I am talking about it is "Heart of Chaos" from XIII-2. I love the piece. I love it so.

Here is my personal favourite, a gorgeous piece from an excellent adaptation of the original Final Fantasy XIII. The choices provided are all gems, however as a lover of the story of XIII-2, a fan of the antagonist, and a diehard for clever and understandable Latin phrasing I can only vouch for this.