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Post by Gaia on Aug 30, 2020 17:14:09 GMT -8
Solo gave no response to her, obviously taking to her suggestion without much argument, choice, or advice.
With the Phantom Black gone, the apparition of her brother did not return - although the memory of his last appearance, the appearance beyond the veil of bright white, may still find itself somewhere rooted within her memories. It was a strange thing that these Wave Beings were capable of, the wave density making way for pure energy to affect the real world. Feint and her side had difficulties keeping the Navis in line while they were only confined to the Net - it was a nightmare for the other side's forces to keep the people safe when beings like Burai could destroy entire cities at a whim.
Was it this same strange power that allowed her to see her brother? She may never know.
The climb up the staircase was a simple task, all in all, her precautions unnecessary. Before reaching the edge of the staircase, it was possible to see the artifact, although its details were unclear. It was long, whatever it was, perhaps as long as Feint was tall, and shaded blue, like aquamarine. Once she was at the foot of the stairs, the angle made it impossible to see the artifact anymore.
As she marched up, though, she got her first good look at one of the artifacts since today's strange journey began. All of the others had been taken before she could get a good glance at them.
It was a length of what looked like stone, worn and ragged from years gone by, with an absolutely enormous fossilized tooth attached to it like a spearhead - the only way she could tell was because of the natural serrations along the edge, and the way the spearhead seemed to be unnaturally wedged into the crossguard of stone within which it was set. The entire artifact had been dyed blue for some reason or another during its time, lost to the ages. It was, at first, just a strange sight to behold.
As she got closer, though, she began to feel the power coming from it like a fountain. The closer she got, the more her eyes seemed to unveil the truth of it to her, as the energy radiating from it became more and more clear . . .
The force it emitted was only matched by the power she would remember feeling each time Laplace appeared: A near overwhelming sensation that commanded her attention, as though simply wielding the spear in hand would grant her immeasurable power.
At last, she mounted the last of the stairs, mere inches away from its overflowing strength. It almost seemed to call out to her, as if the Spear was aware of her presence - as if it were alive, somehow. A dangerous voice whispered in her ear, no words to be heard but, intensity and intent came with the nonsensical mutterings that would make it hard to guess what this Spear was once used for. A tool of war and it wished to be reused as such. It was like being next to a wellspring of power that knew she was there, and it wanted to be used.
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Post by Warrior on Aug 30, 2020 18:13:18 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/U4Xclbh~png " Hmm... "
There was a bit of hesitation concerning whether or not she should actually touch it, judging by the aura it was giving off. Considering everything that had gone on in the last encounter though, she figured she'd been through just about the worst of anything that fate could possibly throw at her.
The weapon almost seemed to have its own voice in the air, begging for its power to be used, and it certainly would end up being used -- just not be her. She'd never been given any warnings not to touch any of these artifacts by Burai, so it was safe to assume there was no harm in doing so.
Reaching out, then, she wrapped her fingers about it carefully to remove it from its place; no telling how fragile such an old thing could be, after all. Half the trek would be done after that, next would just be walking back down the steps (which was generally the easy part).
The thought did cross her mind that it had to have been much harder to keep Wave Beings in check than it was to keep Navis in check: they'd never directly interact with the Real World, after all. But the possibility of it happening, should this wave technology ever be more researched, lingered on her mind as well -- something their predecessors, the ones testing the guardians, could certainly intend for. There was no telling for now, but the thought recurred during each of her fights here. At some point, she'd nearly forgotten she was ever in the Real World to begin with, and deep down that was far more concerning than she showed.
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Post by Gaia on Aug 30, 2020 18:34:12 GMT -8
Wrapping her hands around the spear immediately had two consequences. The first, was the chilling embrace of the cold stone - it was chilled to the point of burning, the warm air around her in stark contrast with the intense cold. It did not break as she moved it, it did not even creak or risk bending, its old stone sturdy and plenty stout.
Lifting the spear off of its pedestal, wrapping her fingers around it, birthed the second consequence. The voice that seemed to hum in the air instantly became more prominent, the rushing energy from it seeming to curl up her arms and over her body. The tendrils of blue wrapped over her from the Spear, the intensity of it instantly felt - the power that the Murians possessed was incredible, and they seemed equally capable of imbuing such strength within their artifacts. There was no denying what she held, and, yet, with her fingers wrapped around it, and the danger of its power wrapping back around her, she would find it impossible to let go.
. . . We are the Aqua Leviathan, the great Tribe of Mu. You handle our artifact, the Leviathan Spear . . . we are willing to grant you our power . . . If you are willing to give us your body!
The chilling sensation of the Leviathan Spear plummeted further in her hands, causing a deep sheet of ice to form over her hands as her suit was flash frozen. Visions began racing within her mind, as she saw as though she were walking through a battlefield littered with destroyed soldiers, as though she alone were capable of slaughtering the army of wrecked warriors scattered about her. Enemies encased in blocks of ice, searing burn marks across exposed flesh, and the otherwise desolate battlefield having large puddles of water that, based on the depth of the bodies floating in them, were much more than just puddles.
The visions flashed back and forth between her place at the top of the stairs and the images of that unknown battlefield, her body taking unknown stances and making untrained motions, but spinning about with the spear in her hand as though she had never known any other weapon. For a battle style so fluid and so graceful, the rage that built up in her, as the long-dead Aqua Leviathans forced their pride and their lust for conquest into her in an attempt to consume her. As the chilling images continued to flash in her mind's eye, of more battles that she never took part of but seemed to remember every movement of the spear she had never wielded before, the ice that crept up her arms, accompanied by the energy flooding from the spear, had made its way up to her shoulders.
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Post by Warrior on Aug 30, 2020 20:01:49 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/8w4a7DV~png The historical visualization was quite remarkable to be sure; experiencing firsthand the Murians' power was beyond what she imagined. She wasn't entirely inexperienced in a variety of weapons, but she wasn't one to have handled the spear nearly as efficiently as she felt that she was able to now. The ability to impart such knowledge into someone by simply holding an artifact was, in fact, unbelievable to her.
But she'd never intended to be the bearer of their legacy. Burai did that well enough. Whether this was hypnosis or simply a display for her mind's eye to watch consciously, she found it in herself to speak back to the voice directly, uncertain whether it'd hear back, but it was only natural to make the attempt. The realization of the ice creeping up her arms wasn't absent from her either, though.
" I'm not getting the vibe that this is up for negotiation. But if you'll humor me: I've got a better candidate than myself. If you can hold your load for a few seconds more, I'd wager you'll end up more satisfied in the hands of someone with Murian blood than in the hands of a girl with daddy issues. "
Well, more issues than just that, but it got the point across.
There was some resistance in her grip, but certainly not enough to simply break free. Mentally, she put up no further front than her offer -- if there was more to come, she wasn't necessarily opposed to watching it play out, as really there wasn't anything to lose by learning from history played before one's eyes anyway. To say she was as resistant to that aspect as a teenager to an intimate scene of a movie wouldn't be an entirely a false notion.
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Post by Gaia on Aug 31, 2020 20:12:58 GMT -8
At first, it didn't seem as though the artifact was listening to her; or even if it could. Her words were met with cold silence. In a sudden change of pace, though, she felt a presence invading her mind, rifling through her memories, as she felt her neck - unbidden and uncommanded - shifting to angle her vision towards where she had left Solo, laying on the ground.
The true insidious nature of the relic she held was revealed in that moment. It was not just filling her with memories and knowledge; it was planting seeds of thought and emotion within her mind, as if directly altering her brain chemistry through its contact. The sense of bloodlust, the thrill of the fight, surged within her very veins; her heart was forced into tempo with the sound of a war drum beating against her temples; the adrenaline from rage accompanied by a steel-cold focus turning her blood cold. She held the power within her grasp, she just knew it, to defeat any adversary, if she would only use it to overcome her obstacles.
The battle cry of the Leviathan Tribe seemed to sound within her ears, as she was suddenly once again taken back to that battlefield - details became more clear, as, amidst some of the invaders, she found herself staring down scattered soldiers with stark white hair and dark skin tones . . . they were coated in black, glossy, tight-fitting armor with crimson highlights and had left motes of purple flames burning about them. If the message weren't clear to her, the message would be made very clear by the Leviathan Tribe's words.
We would actually detest the very notion of him holding our power - he would do nothing but hold it hostage. What you see before you is the last remnant, a straggler that somehow escaped from the wreckage. A defect from the perfect Murian Cause - a tribe made of outcasts and vagabonds that named themselves the Rogue Tribe, too weak to claim our righteous throne. When we could have been united and strong, when the world could have been ours to command, they left it all behind them. They forsook their own people.
What about you? Are you the type to forsake your own people, Cherish? Do you not have the nerves of steel necessary to stand before the imbeciles and -
- fight -
- declare the power that is yours? Do you lack the self-respect to look at your commander within the NIA and demand that he -
- fight -
- recognize you for what you are capable of? Are you so pathetic that you have to look at this morsel who was only capable of saving himself, and choose to -
- fight -
- assist him on his blinded quest to restore to light the most powerful Empire that has ever graced Earth's soil without its spirit to -
- fight -
- take what was their's to take, and do what must be done? All this time you spent trying to validate yourself, to show all of them that you have worth beyond what you can display, and you are willing to give up this power to someone such as him? He who will not even thank you for saving his life? You care even a little bit about his plans, when he could very well be putting you in further danger? It's enough to make a woman's blood boil . . .
Indeed, as it spoke, she felt its words in her very soul, as though it was drudging up her own emotions and ideals, flashing back moments of their destructive, violent history alongside her own, reminding her of times when she simply did not have what it took to accomplish her goals, and all the times she watched someone else take the opportunity in her stead. Her blood was not just boiling, it was steaming, her body seeming heated and chilled by the ice creeping up her neck the whole time. The fury she had from all the people that refused to hit her, from all of the times she had failed simply for not being strong enough, from every moment she had ever doubted her own power and just wished she could have had a little more to destroy her opposition. It was so . . . violent.
Will you not relent to us? Will you not bask in our power, and allow us to make all of your own conquests come true? Or are you too weak hearted, too self-disposed, too pathetic to stand up for yourself, even once?
Are you really okay with him taking all of that away from you? . . . Are you really content with him potentially taking all of that away from the ones you care about?
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Post by Warrior on Sept 1, 2020 9:10:19 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/cqKbnSa~png The implanted emotions were starting to take root inside of her, finding plenty of comfortable space to fill among the familiar ones that normally rested there. Most of those feelings were already there in fact, just amplified by the Tribe rather than entirely embedded by it. It was almost like possession: even when her head turned by the will of the artifact, her mind would tell her that it was her own doing, that she wanted to turn her head, not that she was forced to.
Her fighting spirit wasn't hard to kindle, especially when it spoke directly to her own lust for power and superiority that she'd normally have to put conscience effort into subduing.
She looked back to the images of the fallen soldiers, the lot of them looking most reminiscent of Solo as the Leviathan Tribe made its point about him.
" So then... Not all Murians did choose war. "
It was no mystery where the Leviathan Tribe sat upon that spectrum, either.
The words spoken to her only fueled the feelings more -- were she a smarter girl, she'd've probably understood that this was her own medicine being used against her: to provoke a response out of such emotions -- but she was far from a perfect logician, much less even an ordinary one for that matter.
The bright ice crawling up her neck now matched her pale blue eyes, their aggressive gaze aimed at nothing in particular as her brow furrowed to accentuate them. Her lips flared open to reveal her clenched teeth; the canines looking like fangs when she was this angry. Despite being encapsulated by ice, her fingers would grip the spear tightly, this time the intent to snap it in two could be felt by the emphasis of force applied by her hands, but of course there were plenty of factors present to prevent her from actually being able to.
" Accepting your power would mean I accept the notion that I'm too weak myself. You can shove that right up your ***. "
Of all the faulty pillars she stood on, Pride had an uncanny ability to overcome Fear, even the deep-rooted type. Past failures simply meant she wasn't strong enough yet, not that she couldn't reach the necessary caliber of power on her own. But no, pursuing more strength by unnatural means, by clawing for free handouts rather than improving one's self, that was something Navis did, and now Prejudice reinforced her pride as she disdained such similarity between herself and them, even despite recent revelations initiating a gradual softening up to them within her.
If the Tribe's goal was to invigorate her fighting spirit, then it had certainly succeeded. Doing that was about as challenging as boiling a pot of water in a volcano. If the intent was to direct it to anything but itself, though, that would take more work, especially at this point.
" I don't care about his plans or yours, but I don't change sides once I've picked one. You wouldn't be extinct if your way was right, and yet the weak tribe was the one to survive to this day. You want to know if I have the nerves to stand before imbeciles and declare my power? "
Fighting words were her primary language, and while it sometimes put her in worse situations than not, the Tribe was what provoked that nature inside of her, and once that candle was lit it just didn't stop burning.
" Get out here and I'll show you. "
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Post by Gaia on Sept 1, 2020 15:54:18 GMT -8
Her resolve was impressive. The Leviathan Tribe was quite pleased by her own familiarity with war and violence, even if her rage and fury did not go in the same direction as their own. It was a good place to start, if nothing else - she could understand them.
In that way, even despite her resolve, they had still won, albeit a small victory.
As violently and quickly as the power welled up within her, so too did it recede. It was very sudden how quickly it was gone, one moment flooding her with its rage and hatred, the very next, it was practically leached from her flesh, the ice returning to raw energy as it was absorbed back into the spear. The amount of energy it provided was exhausting to lose, leaving an empty pit where its energy had tempted her just seconds before. It did not break or bend in response to her violent attempt against it; the ancient stone stood strong and resolute, unbending and unphased. Somehow, though, even with its power drained from her, she could still feel . . . something. It was like a pit in the corner of her mind, a place where the Leviathan Tribe's bloodlust, fury, pride, and desire for conquest would always reside, in some small part. Even as she stared at the spear, she knew how to wield it, knew that the very seas would bow to her if she would use it, and knew how to activate its power - it was as simple as spinning it in her hands and slamming it into the ground beneath her.
Why did she know these things? They were intrinsic to the very essence of the spear itself, the spirit of the Leviathan Tribe, which had invaded her mind. Brushing against something with that intensity would forever taint her; forever plague her, as even now she could feel that ebb in her mind that threatened to tip over if she allowed it too much sway, and that roaring scream of their battle cry was still a feint echo in her ears . . .
No. Not all Murians did. There were those of us that knew our pride, knew our power, and knew what we could do, and there were those that would forsake all of those things to maintain peace. To forsake the power granted by the Great Being was to throw away one's Murian heritage . . .
Those stinging words were left hanging in her ears for a moment. How would Solo, so steeped within and obviously very reverent of his culture, feel to be told that his decision to forsake war was coterminous with forsaking his heritage?
Man was not born with fang nor claw to hunt with; nor were they raised with scale or hide to protect them. In their absence, man rose above evolution and crafted tools to grant them that which they did not have. If accepting our power would make you weak, then are you also weak for carrying a gun into battle, or for wearing a suit to protect you? What of your beliefs? Are they weak for allowing you to mingle within the world of those that you despise, these Navis?
It is the human condition to learn of our infirmities and rise above them. Distant our prison may be, strung out among the stars, that much must still be true despite the passing of aeons. The strongest had to wield tools and carry weights above their heads before they had the strength to carry greater burdens. To refuse this power is to simply realize that not only are you weak, but you are either so weak that you are incapable of doing what needs to be done to strengthen yourself, or are simply too ignorant of the fact to know to change it.
And, just like that, the artifact in her hands went silent. To feel the emptiness of it as its voice stopped speaking was strange, as it went entirely dormant in her grasp, the only echo of its time with her being that constant ring and that constant rhythm that she would now always find if she gave herself the time and silence to focus on it. She was left alone with this for some time.
The silence of the temple was suddenly broken by a loud bout of coughing, and a very begrudging moan of pain from down below. Solo began shifting about from his place on the floor, righting himself and trying to lift up onto his arms to support himself. He looked around, obviously confused, and even from this distance she could tell that his eyes were unfocused.
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Post by Warrior on Sept 1, 2020 20:14:23 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/8w4a7DV~png She looked to the spear during its silence, having calmed down a bit now, but it was clear that her stance hadn't changed by the way she responded to it.
" The suit doesn't move for me. I didn't learn to fire the gun just by holding it. When the decision to use them is mine to make, they are my tools -- you, Spear, would make my body your tool. Winning wars with skills I didn't learn myself and actions I didn't choose myself aren't my victories, they're yours. Yielding my will isn't any form of growth, it's submission. You'll find none of that in me. "
The immense physical strength that it came with was certainly something she could appreciate, but a devil's deal was beyond her terms. Whether or not the inanimate object heard any of that didn't really cross her mind until the end of it though, when she realized how crazy she looked talking to a spear, but fortunately nobody was watching at the time.
The sound of Solo waking up was her queue to return, so she made her way back down the steps with the spear in hand. The notion of this same voice speaking to him was indeed was stuck with her, though: she had to wonder if the other artifacts did the same -- specifically whether their fondness of the Rogue Tribe was as ill as the Leviathan's had shown to be, and whether it was right to let it whisper in his own ear its perspective on the matter.
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Post by Gaia on Sept 2, 2020 9:09:33 GMT -8
The spear heard the last of her rebuttal, but did not respond to her in any way that she would know it. The spear lay dormant in her hands, and did not stir as she started taking it towards where Solo was righting himself.
Solo turned as he heard the sound of her descending the stairs, his face dazed, but he was quick to right himself. As he looked at her, his eyes trailed over to the spear she held. His face shifted back to the calm, controlled look he normally, held, as he pulled himself off of the floor to stand up. Once standing, he took a deep breath, and brushed off his shoulders to be free of the dust before opening his eyes again.
They were sharp and focused, like his strength was restored. Seeing the spear in her hand, and the scruffs all over her tattered battle suit, meant that those flashes of rage tinted in crimson were true. He had gotten so overwhelmed by the Phantom Black's game of charades that he let himself dip into that power. . . he knew that the Satellite's persona would inevitably enable him to do what must be done, but he had to let himself give into that rage. It was always draining, and it was usually him that he found when he woke up.
The idea sickened him to his stomach when he instead saw Feint. He hadn't been knocked out of his berserk state, which just meant that he had burnt out. She had seen the brunt of his force and apparently waded through it - even now looking relatively unharmed. His cold stare almost dared her to mention it, as he deftly held out his hand. They had come here for one thing, regardless of the detours that led to them getting it, and he intended to leave here with it. He hadn't the desire to discuss the historical perspectives Feint may have learned from listening in to his trials, nor to discuss his out-of-control state with anyone.
"Don't. Whatever it is you're thinking of saying, whatever pity it is you want to provide, don't. I didn't need theirs," he said, indicating the spear, "I don't need his, and I surely do not need yours. I will continue to do what I must, regardless of what stands in my way, to accomplish my goals.
"Now, hand over the OOPArt. As you've probably already guessed, it will destroy you if you let it. You may have staved off its bloodlust for now, but it will not rest until you give in. I need it for the last stage of this."
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Post by Warrior on Sept 2, 2020 9:38:56 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/8w4a7DV~png " ? "
She paused in her tracks as he held out his hand -- unsure if he was telling her to stop through body language before she spoke, or if the body language was instead indicating that she hand over the prize of this whole bout.
" Hmph. "
His speech made it clear enough which of the two that it was, and she fulfilled both requests by silently handing it over, or at least mostly silently.
" Chat it up with each other. I'd like to be done with mind games going forward. "
Unsurprisingly, they weren't exactly her strong suit.
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Post by Gaia on Sept 2, 2020 10:31:51 GMT -8
He reached out and took the spear from her hand, looking it down. It began peeling off energy yet again. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and a second later, the spear disappeared into a gout of flames that Burai absorbed.
He turned his once again sharp eyes on Feint, the weight of his Isolation apparent. Somewhere behind those eyes, he knew that she may not appreciate how he was handling this, but he was more than capable on his own to handle the Leviathan Tribe. All she had accomplished by going up the stairs to retrieve it was potentially cause him to wake up with a spear aimed at him.
"They didn't want to hear what I had to say aeons ago. I have nothing to say in return. I can take their punishment."
What he would never say was the truth behind the matter: So that no one else needed to. With all four tribes' artifacts collected, there were just two stops remaining on his list. He turned about, remembering his conversations with Feint that had been all about greater introspection into the human nature; into their rich history, and into what had occurred. He was still very guarded about all of it, as he knew that if he shared too much too soon, he may overshoot and end up with an issue that would have been of no concern otherwise. So long as he was the one here that knew the most of the history, and the one that knew his plans and what was necessary to enact them, Feint was still safe to cart around with him.
The second she learned too much, and her intentions changed, he would have to do to her as he planned on doing to the Phantom Black for his crimes committed with the information he possessed.
He need not imagine what the Phantom Black may have done up here. The implications were very clear. "The Phantom Black betrayed the Murian people he swore to protect, and aligned with whatever has been hunting down the Heralds. That's how they knew where to look, and what their weaknesses and abilities were to directly combat them. If what I fear is true, there may be one additional stop on this trip. You did not promise to a sixth stop, and so I will not hold you to joining me on my trip to the continent."
The way that certain things were not quite right about the Murians, and how they eventually were remade, made it easy to figure out that the Phantom Black may have bestowed some semblance of his power - the ability to warp reality into illusion and vice versa - to those that came here. Which meant that . . . that this was their first stop.
"Your planet has been visited by aliens. This colony is in Outerspace. Everything points to them coming here, first, and whatever they are, they are capable of interacting with Wave Matter. Their compatibility with Wave Matter also means that they could have already invaded the Cyber World."
It was only for his agreement to assist on intel based on the information he could gather that he shared this insight. Aliens were of no major surprise to him; how she felt of it, of course, would be a different matter entirely. The issues kept on rising, the complexity of this issue that he had found himself right in the middle of continuing to expand with each passing revelation. Were it for any other reason, he would have disconnected himself from the issue entirely, and marched on towards his goals. Unfortunately, his pride wouldn't allow it - a righteous, proper pride, that knew that his people's works were not to be tampered with. Whoever these newcomers were, regardless of whether or not they properly understood Murian technology, he would make sure . . .
". . . they're going to pay for this."
He started walking away from her, his eyes no longer looking over the temple. He didn't need to collect the Crimson in the air this time, because his body had practically burnt all of it up to fight against Feint. No, he had something else he needed to do. They were in space, now, within the ancient Tribal Grounds of the Leviathan Tribe's redoubt. Where he had personally placed the OOPArts after systematically destroying all of them . . . he had even convinced the Heralds to stay put and guard over them.
All of that time, and the Phantom Black turned on him? Surely he was just being his normal capricious self when he mentioned their misuse of the Great Being; not everyone had chosen the decisions of the Tribes. It was them that came to these conclusions, and that was what caused the Precursor to Ruin. He had to shake his head to clear it of the doubt; no, what he was doing was correct. He alone could walk this path, for he alone had survived to make it this far.
He was the only person he could trust. So, as he stepped up to the edge of the temple and floated just beyond it, into the void of space beyond, he gave no explanation to Feint.
Outside, he tapped into that power on purpose, but kept a lot more control over it. The intensity of the crimson monstrosity radiated from the door that Feint watched him walk out of, and then quickly died down again. He had done it. That alone should've been enough. . . a Noise Wave so intense it would connect planets across galaxies, and it should be ample strong enough to attract his attention.
That was, after all, what he was waiting for the most. He blasted wave energy in reverse to get back into the temple. Where a human like Feint would not be able to do that, his Wave Form made his biological processes less important - he didn't need to breathe like this, and space wasn't all that abrasive once you could live in it without worry.
"Are you ready to go, then?" He was despondent, lost in thought, and apparently just ready to leave this temple behind. The kamikakushi had already appeared, and so did the portal it created.
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Post by Warrior on Sept 2, 2020 10:54:40 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/8w4a7DV~png Cherish stayed quiet as it unfolded -- somehow not feeling to concerned by the surge of Crimson despite what she had witnessed earlier.
The notion of an alien invasion would have probably caught her by surprise had pop culture not already desensitized her to it, but if they'd been here all along and had just been hiding, that gave her a feeling of power actually. It meant her race was, at the very least, to be respected. An unrespected species would have just been wiped out with caution thrown to the wind.
One could even argue that Duo was an alien himself, and it wasn't uncommon knowledge the role that he played in this world's history.
When Burai returned, she simply nodded at his question and made way for the portal. She was quite done with this place, in fact, and had no interest to return, much less stick around. Her response to his statement on their 6th stop was noticeably absent -- she'd simply have to see more and just decide later.
(Cherish Pele -> Kamikakushi Portal (Link Coming Later))
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Post by Gaia on Sept 3, 2020 3:22:00 GMT -8
As Feint went through the portal, Burai took only one last look around the temple, before he sighed and joined her.
Rewards: -- +80 Exp/+800z for RP -- +Crest: Leviathan Soul Remnant OR +1 Isolation Fragment.
The OOPArts resonated with a power like no other, and infect their users down to their soul. Even brief interaction with one can change a person forever . . . -- Whenever the user activates a Hyper Mode, they also gain Aqua Lv5 OR Ice Lv5 for the duration of the effect. Aqua or Ice Element Attacks also gain +20% total damage when used during the effect. The element chosen must be listed in-stats. -- During the affected Hyper Mode, Charged Basic Attacks can become Aqua Lunge. 1-CD between uses. -- Only affects one hyper mode/battle.
[Aqua Lunge] The user extends a spear of pure water from their hands, a remnant of what they once wielded, to lunge out against their enemies, the flowing water snaking to strike multiple targets. - Deals damage equal to 125% User's Base Damage. Gains element chosen. Dual-Range. -- Hits up to 7 targets at full damage. Must individually strike 7 targets if able. If not, can split up the remaining targets between enemies to increase the required avoidances by 1 each. -- If Hits: Bubbles OR Freezes.
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Post by Warrior on Sept 3, 2020 9:50:18 GMT -8
#s://i~imgur~com/U4Xclbh~png
(( Feint chooses Leviathan Soul Remnant: Aqua ))
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