PM me when you've got your champ/creator, if you didn't already have one.
Except you, Raziel. Except you, Mr. Originality.
So far the champs and creators that have there partners are as follows:
Zirat: Priscilla the Spider Bot -Me and Asmodeus
BoosterGold: The Metal Man - BloodyThoughts: The Poison God
Safe in the Dark: Vermillion - VaudeVillainVeteran: Something German or Other
Zootatsuit: Maestro - LEVRoll: Maestro's secrety secret man, The Endless.
Evrant: Alastor - Avouleance2nd: The Voyager
And by default, the two that are left, SamuelT's Mordred and Malo_tux's Aristok are together, but that should be fine, i recieved word Sam wanted Aristok.
TheDoctor455: Raziel and his left hand.
The Universe, as it is currently, is not in the best of shapes. Not at all. The sky that the singular continent that makes up the universe now that all the creators' domains must share is still riddled with cracks. Cracks that cannot be repaired, that spill out blighted white nothingness that quickly dissipates into the world, giving the universe a fragile appearance, like the slightest tap of a hammer on it's foundation would cause it to shatter, violently. On the great continent, the events that are to cause the greatest change the universe has ever known are starting up their new gears.
Deep on a singular, large domain on the continent, one in which a newly defeated and killed Creator once lived, where the world is viewed upside down and everything is a shade of bright yellow, save for the cracks in the sky, two Champions both fight for the land to give to their masters; a very great prize indeed, for it's not every year that a creator is destroyed, and their masters eagerly await back at their domains. One of them is a man with harlequin-esque features wearing a stylish top hat and conductor's coat fights another of his kind to give the yellow landscape to his master, using music as his weapon to fend of and strike his foe. The other is the killer of the yellow creator, a man that one would assume by first glance to be a "Gamblin' man", with a thin beard and mustache, and brown hair, wearing a white coat while the rest is grey, using a long, shining sword and the items of the gambling trade as equipment. Their master's can't share it, so they fight till the victor is decided.
Elsewhere, within the walls of the greatest castle known in history, an elderly man "grows" a metal motorcycle and skids away from a pack of wild beasts, some normal looking, others not so much, all of which seem dead set on catching him as he races away with a sack on his back, presumably an item that could be of value to his master that he stole from the owner of the tremendous castle. It's a gilded sword, two times the size of a Zweihander, with an amethyst embedded in the hilt along with various other small gemstones, but the purple beauty is obviously the main attraction.
The locations of a few of our other figures of importance are an enormous airship, where, at the heart of which, a Bladeswoman with calm, calculating, heterochromatic eyes speaks to a kneeling figure that exhumes the aura of death from his body, and in a large, Roman-esque building with great pillars and banners of war, where fire falls from the sky, inside of which, a headless general duels with a being wielding a glistening black, sharp looking sword that releases dark red fire in small streams from his eyes.
A Champion without a Master roams a small, dead Champion's domain, where fewer than 7 survivors of the Fall of Stars remain, living in two houses and caring for each other, knowing that they have no protection without their Champion, but nowhere else to go.
The last of those individuals who are destined to change everything are about to meet deep within a morbid stone castle that defies the laws of physics, where dolls patrol the corridors. A robotic woman is being led by two large, armoured individuals that have two shining green eyes and walk with their enormous sword held before them through the castle to an individual that can best be described as a writhing abomination; a doll with thousands upon thousands of arms emerging from its back and shoulders with distorted proportions and a horrific face, head held up despite a noose-like object suspending it off the floor above a large bowl of inky black. It begins to speak.
"Someone comes for me... Today... Yes, today... They come to join me. Haha. Delightful, delightful. At last, i shall have one of my own. A champion. An elite amongst elite with which to serve me. Oh i wonder who they'll be, yes yes, how fun it will be to get to know them, haha. Hurry my pets! Bring them! Bring them! The time has come and soon we shall have another of flesh and blood!" Says Asmodeus, two normal length arms moving in gestures as she speaks, her voice constantly fluxing from all different varieties, though it mostly stayed as a childish or excited adult voice, mostly female. He doesn't change his appearance, believing his new champion should see his true face before he attempts to hide it beneath a more pleasurable mask. A few of her arms hold small dolls and marionettes close her as she makes them beckon with their arms as she does, towards the entrance to her chamber. How excited she feels. Another person to control, but at the same time, someone to know that wasn't a creation. Despite having never cared much for people when she was the individual known as Osmo before the cataclysm, recently, her ever-changing mood as craved attention. She giggles to herself before bursting into loud laughter at the prospect, a horrifying noise as, even while laughing, her voice fluxuates rapidly, but composes herself soon, knowing she must be prepared for her new arrival.
Yes, I've given starting scenarios. This is because a lot of complaints i got with my last RP's was a lack of anything to do at the start for them. So forgive me if i placed you somewhere you didn't want to be, or if you had different plans. I was just taking precautions. Anyway, let me just say this.
Raziel paced through the halls of his citadel, at the heart of his languishing Domain. Even after all of the centuries that had passed since he had rescued what few he could from a rotting, dying world... he still hadn't worked up enough will or courage to talk to them. How could he? He may have saved them, but he had also, even if indirectly, played a hand in their world's destruction.
Pawn... and Messiah... I've been the first time and time again, but... when am I supposed to be the second? All of my best efforts... and this is all that I could find...
Raziel was shaken out of his thoughts as a shrill cry of agony told him that his Scryer had picked up something... troubling. Raziel saw what had gotten his Scryer's attention at a mere glance into the Pit's fires. Armies were assembling, and the Champions of the Others were about to enter a battle royale.
"What in hell?" Raziel snarled, "All of Creation is brought to its knees and They send the fools out to quibble over what's left? They might as well just tear it all down now and get it over with."
...
Raziel stared at the troublesome scene as it unfolded before his missing eyes in the fire before him.
Raziel paced through the halls of his citadel, at the heart of his languishing Domain. Even after all of the centuries that had passed since he had rescued what few he could from a rotting, dying world... he still hadn't worked up enough will or courage to talk to them. How could he? He may have saved them, but he had also, even if indirectly, played a hand in their world's destruction.
Pawn... and Messiah... I've been the first time and time again, but... when am I supposed to be the second? All of my best efforts... and this is all that I could find...
Raziel was shaken out of his thoughts with the thunderous sounds of battle.
"What in hell?" he snarled, almost soaring up the stairs to the upper walls of his citadel, to see what new madness was taking place... then... he saw the forces that had assembled in his Domain.
...
Raziel stared at the scene as it unfolded before his missing eyes.
Quick question, guy. I set Raziel in a tiny champion's domain with seven unaffected people in it. Did you make that Raziel's tiny domain, or did you just not read that part?
Raziel paced through the halls of his citadel, at the heart of his languishing Domain. Even after all of the centuries that had passed since he had rescued what few he could from a rotting, dying world... he still hadn't worked up enough will or courage to talk to them. How could he? He may have saved them, but he had also, even if indirectly, played a hand in their world's destruction.
Pawn... and Messiah... I've been the first time and time again, but... when am I supposed to be the second? All of my best efforts... and this is all that I could find...
Raziel was shaken out of his thoughts with the thunderous sounds of battle.
"What in hell?" he snarled, almost soaring up the stairs to the upper walls of his citadel, to see what new madness was taking place... then... he saw the forces that had assembled in his Domain.
...
Raziel stared at the scene as it unfolded before his missing eyes.
Quick question, guy. I set Raziel in a tiny champion's domain with seven unaffected people in it. Did you make that Raziel's tiny domain, or did you just not read that part?
I was kind of making it his Domain, since it was apparently the domain of a dead Creator... seemed to fit. If its a problem, I'll change it... and you might want to start a user group for this RP to avoid having too much OOC chat in the RP. Just a suggestion. I made it his realm because otherwise, he doesn't really seem to have much stake in anything that goes on. Just thought it'd be an interesting idea... might even make him a potential antagonist.
The Metal Man, having just obtain this freaking sweet blade for his creator, was dealing with the consequences of stealing from a creator. That of course is the giant army of The Endless' minions, that seemed dead set on catching him. As he drove his newly formed Motorcycle through the old castles corridors he knew he can't out run the horde with speed alone. He formed his right arm into a rocket launcher and fires into the horde, and screamed, "BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE!!!!" He managed to disperse them long enough to spot a large and ornate stain glass window, it depicted some sort of ancient tale, but the didn't matter at all to The Metal Man.
He Revved the engine of his metal stead and crashed right through the stain glass window, and in the process ruining that story for everyone. As he began to fall he dissolve his Motorcycle and quickly formed a jetpack instead. "The Peanut Vendor must flyyyyyyy!!!!!~" he screamed out in a sing song voice. "TRY AND CATCH ME BITCHES!" he shouted at the minions as he flew of toward the Poison Master's domain.
Raziel paced through the halls of his citadel, at the heart of his languishing Domain. Even after all of the centuries that had passed since he had rescued what few he could from a rotting, dying world... he still hadn't worked up enough will or courage to talk to them. How could he? He may have saved them, but he had also, even if indirectly, played a hand in their world's destruction.
Pawn... and Messiah... I've been the first time and time again, but... when am I supposed to be the second? All of my best efforts... and this is all that I could find...
Raziel was shaken out of his thoughts with the thunderous sounds of battle.
"What in hell?" he snarled, almost soaring up the stairs to the upper walls of his citadel, to see what new madness was taking place... then... he saw the forces that had assembled in his Domain.
...
Raziel stared at the scene as it unfolded before his missing eyes.
Quick question, guy. I set Raziel in a tiny champion's domain with seven unaffected people in it. Did you make that Raziel's tiny domain, or did you just not read that part?
I was kind of making it his Domain, since it was apparently the domain of a dead Creator... seemed to fit. If its a problem, I'll change it... and you might want to start a user group for this RP to avoid having too much OOC chat in the RP. Just a suggestion. I made it his realm because otherwise, he doesn't really seem to have much stake in anything that goes on. Just thought it'd be an interesting idea... might even make him a potential antagonist.
I already had an antagonist worked out. Weather or not Raziel will cooperate with it is your decision, but that wasn't his domain i set you in. It was a random champion's domain in which the champion had died and the survivors were helpless.
The Mordred lowered his sword, staring at his foes. This 'duel' as it had been called had been a nice falsitude of the creator, pitting him against so many of his minions. The whistling of the hot air from outside through the holes in the skeletons was the only sound prevailing in the seeminly innocent and luxurious palace. The animated dead all stood perfectly still, all mimicking the stance of the one before it.
Swiftly pulling back his foot, The Mordred threw himself forward at the multitude of challengers. His sword dragged through the air, adding another tune to the ones audible.
"Another one bites the dust.."
He brought his sword down on one of the Marauders, whos reaction time was barely enough to raise a weapon. The Zweihander in The Mordreds hands shattered the inferior weapon and crushed the bones underneath. Like a puppet with cut strings, the skeleton collapsed.
"Doo doo doo"
Not losing momentum, he jammed the tip of the sword into the marble stone, chipping it, and at the same time pushing away from it, using it as an impromptu launching pole. Sadly, the momentum had not been enough to let him traverse the entirety of the distance seperating him from the Creator, and he crashed into a cluster of Archers. With them struggling to use their weapons effectively, The Mordred was able to regain his footing and apply some precision destruction. The clatter of bones hitting stone was drouned out by the clatter of Marauders converging.
"Another one bites the dust..
Kicking one of the many rugs, some of the advancing Marauders lost their footing in the soft material and fell, scattering the floor with more debris of their limbs. Spotting an opening, the Mordred grinned, futher cracking the fragile surface of his skin, and sped forward, a trail of smoke and embers following him.
"And another one down and another one down.."
Leaving the crowd behind him, he threw his Zweihander at a Berserker, hitting it in the knee joint. The sword skidded further along the floor, just out of The Mordreds reach. The large skeleton half-collapsed, and the Mordred used it as a stepping stone to launch himself at the floating form in the center of the palace, fist reared back to deliver a blow.
Inside of the Poison God's Domain, he set up a platform of hardened liquified poison for The Metal Man to land on, and waited patiently for his arrival. A few minutes later, he arrived and landed on the platform set up for him. The Poison God had made an air bubble for him not because A. He's a Metal Man and B. He's immortal, but because it had conjured the figure of a human being with no facial features whatsoever and green and swirling from poisonous smoke.
It began to speak to him, as he always does, through telepathy.
"You're a wreckless old fool...I would love to know exactly what that had accomplished besides having a bit of fun." It said in its normal dark sinister deep and silent tone, "Though I must admit I did get a bit of a chuckle out of your idiocy."
It was in its normal cynical mood. The only time the Poison God had any shread of hope for The Metal Man was when they first met and became Creator and Champion. Ever since then it'd hope that somehow he'd die and allow The Poison God to acquire a new champion. The figure the Poison God had conjured up pointed towards the sword The Metal Man had hoped to present to it, "And what exactly is that for? Yourself?"
It sighed and then said, "That's for me...isn't it..."
"Have you forgotten that I am a ginormous cloud of poison? And have zero limbs whatsoever?" It said, losing its patience for The Metal Man, once again, "I would punish you for your incompetence if it would do anything at all to you. And if you'd ever learn a thing or two from it. Anyway, PLEASE, explain to me why you went through all the trouble to get that?"
Priscilla was nearing the castle of her new... 'creator' as the herald called it. Entering this land was certainly it's own event, upon first coming in she had to stop and run a diagnostics on her vision. But no, it seemed that this world was indeed as wrong as it appeared. An entire town manned by cold dolls attempting to recreate daily life. The result was indeed chilling at first, but given how they didn't react to her she continued onward instead of giving it a second though.
It seemed her destination wouldn't be difficult to spot, what appeared to be a large black and white castle
click - click - click - click
She carried herself up the stairs leading to the castle, she couldn't feel the temperature but as she neared the castle, but her sensors picked them up as heavily fluctuating. Seems like normality isn't welcome here she thought as she neared the door. Though honestly, who am I to judge? she thought with a grim humor as she the gate opened before her.
Click-click-cli....
Priscilla stopped mid stride as light entered the castle foyer and she could she what laid ahead. The entire castle seemed to defy whatever logic that normally seemed to apply to the outside, the castle was literally twisting upon itself as it stretched into dark corridors and secret paths. For the first time in a long time she felt hesitation, if only for a second. She scowled at herself and willed herself onwards, her servos dutifully sliding back into position as it carried her legs onward. One pair of arms hanging at her side while the second were folded in front of her.
Walking upon a carpeted path ahead of her, it seemed like the castle seemed to register her presence, and it roiled as it the hallway before her roiled into cohesion and formed an upward path. This walkway was lined with more of the eyeless dolls, these ones holding shields, acting as a sort of vanguard.
This she could understand at least, it showed that she was at least expected. Following the doll-laden path she reached she reached what seemed to be an inner sanctum. A shrieking laugh suddenly punctured the area, a lesser person would have shaken but Priscilla just had a hint of understanding now. Apparently someone liked putting on a show, a hint of a smirk appeared then was brushed away.
Nearing a door that had multiple marionettes hanging from the high arch, it slowly swung open before her. Bracing for whatever could be inside, she entered.
Inside the oddly lit chamber she could see a large figure taking up the back of the room, it was essentially wreathed in puppets, marionettes, and strings. Each doll in the room seemed to be dancing and bustling on it's strings like they were seizing, but Priscilla spoke calmly in clear and perfectly synthesized voice "The creator, Asmodeus, I assume?"
The Endless sat regally, if uncomfortably, in an enourmous, white stone throne ornately and expertly chiseled by his own power. His stony head rested on one stony hand as he awaited the outcome of his Champion's efforts, drumming idly away on the arm of his immaculate throne with his other stony hand, watching the battle unfold within the heart of his own mind with a mix of concern and amusement. It would be terrible to lose a Domain, any Domain, but it was almost difficult to care about as the two competitors fought like some strange, foreign gladiators.
The Endless shifted his attention from the battle as a bright, white light errupted from across his hall, one of his Aberrations striding into the throne room from out of the strange, glowing contraption that lead to the Zone Hall, a vast corridor that mapped and provided access to each and every area in his palace, his Empire. The Aberration was a tall, twisted creature twice the size of a normal man, it's blackened and nearly rotting flesh resembling knightly armor. It's wings were like the rest of the abomination, black and strange and covered in weeping sores, skinless between the vestigal bones. It's head was lizardlike and crested, the crest itself rising from it's head and bursting through the black flesh, throbbing and terrible in it's crimson glory.
Two other Aberrations flanked The Endless and his throne. To his left, a dragon-esque creature with eight, squat legs and three sets of wide, black-feathered wings pulled back along it's serpentine length, it's dark flesh cracked and burned where it's scales had fallen off, coiled around a large, white stone pillar reaching so far upward a normal man could not see its end. To his right, a colossal wolf-lizard hybrid sat, head on it's huge claws, watching the man-Aberration approach with it's huge, all-white eyes, it's strange, black flesh rippling with scintillating shades of green, purple, and orange.
Aberrations, though the smartest of his servants, The Mindless, were still uninteresting at best to The Endless. Whereas Beasts and Monsters, modeled after animals and men respectively, were designed as base, primal creatures designed to do no more than intimidate and kill, the Aberrations were far more complex, capable of independent speech and thought. This left Aberrations far above even their nearest brothers, the Chimera, fusions of Beasts and Monsters, who were merely capable of understanding and repeating a few, simple commands. Despite their intellectual edge, the Aberrations were still only extensions of his will, his mind, and therefore lived only to serve him. This left them as unoriginal thinkers, hardly the sort to carry a real conversation as they pandered him and agreed with him.
The first Aberration stopped a few feet before The Endless and his throne, a huge white stone step twice even its own size seperating them, falling to one knee and bowing it's scaly, black head. The Endless gazed down at it, wondering about what it could possibly want, knowing himself it's every thought. It was then The Endless realized what was happening, as the creature rasped out, "It is time, my lord."
The Endless rose slowly from his stony throne, brushing aside his flowing, white stone cape, and began to stroke his stony beard. "So soon? Was it not wholly long ago that this was last done?"
The Aberration rose and crossed his bulky, flesh-plated chest with one arm, bowing. As it resumed a neutral stance, the creature managed to rasp out, "The recent... intrusion has helped to thin the numbers, my lord. This is necessary." It turned it's head to the right, focusing one eye on The Endless. "You know that."
The Endless chuckled, and his entire Empire shook. "Yes. I suppose I do." The Endless gestured back toward the large, raised circle-glyph that worked as transport to the Zone Hall. "Go. I will begin shortly." Checking his mind once more to watch the outcome of the battle, The Endless sighed and nodded. His immaculate, white stone mountain of a body burst. He had transported himself to elsewhere in his Empire, to perform a ritual that required his immediate attention. The consequences of Maestro's battle -and the Metal Man's intrusion- would have to be assessed later.
Having escaped from The Endless' well endless amount of minions was a harrowing and exciting adventure. He managed to make it back to the grape popsicle world he called home, having brought his best buddy and creator the Poison God a tribute that surly would please him, the gilded gem encrusted sword of the creator know as the Endless. I hope that Poison master likes this shiny thingy he thought as it presented his creator with the sword.
The Metal Man listened to The Poison God, and looked right in his swirl cloud man body...thing. "OOOH yeah, that's right you DON'T have limbs do you? my bad I forgot, you know how it is right? Wait, why don't you poison the sword then we can give it to someone as a gift, what do you think Poison Master?"
Satisfied with his brilliant idea, he formed a big arm chair and took a seat, absent-mindedly picked his teeth and sang nonsense songs in twelve bars to himself.
The only pair of eyes Asmodeus had set on her face, shimmering golden, rolled to focus on Priscilla. Her eyelids did not squint, for she does not have them. Her disgusting mouth creaked open and the two tongues rolled out as she started to speak in her fluxuating voice again. "Ah! Yes, yes! you are correct! Oh, in preson. You're much better in person, though i already saw you. I saw you the moment you saw this castle, Haha! Yes, i am Asmodeus, and I take it you're my Champion, yes." A multitude of Asmodeus' more human looking, yet still monsterously long arms came down from the ceiling and approached Priscilla. They began to check her body, almost seeming to violate her, but never actually performing any lewd actions.
"Oh... Oh oh. You are flesh. Flesh in your upper body, yes. Your face, midriff, and neck are smooth with skin and soft. Kyaha! But the rest of you, poor thing, what happened to you? You're more machine than anything anymore. Was it the Fall? No. It's more controlled than that. Heheh... You must have been some form of fighter. Yes yes." One of Asmodeus' hand gently opened Priscilla's eyelid, allowing her a better look. "Oh yes... Still flesh and blood in some places, still able to feel, yet just by your transformation, i can tell you're not one to quit. Yes... Maybe you're vastly intelligent as well." She let Priscilla's eye go, as well as the rest of her body.
"A few questions before I get to the main point, little cyborg. Firstly, you're name, or rather, your title, haha, names don't exist anymore. Secondly, does what i look like currently make it unpleasant to speak to me?"
"That would end up making the blade better in the end" It explained to The Metal Man "And then only way that plan would woooorrrrkkk....Iisssss if they started cutting them seeellllvvveeeesss...." The figure The Poison God made started swirling around the Metal Man. It didn't know why, but this amused him as he was silent in deep thought on what to do with the sword, and The Metal Man. For the longest time he could not think of what to do with his imbecile champion, and this sword, stolen from The Endless. This could prove troublesome.
"Okay...I've got it...." The Poison God said. It stopped swirling around the Metal Man and flew over to the sword. It started to glow a bright green, and then created a huge flash of green light. It started chuckling to itself. It had enchanted the sword to explode in an acidic blast when presented back to The Endless. It wont hurt the endless, but whatever is around him, it probably will.
"I hate you, and this sword, now would you kindly take it back to The Endless? I've got quite the surprise for him.." It chuckled yet again, "And you..."
It sent the Metal Man out before it had any time to talk. The last words it said to him was "And please....Get lost and never come back to my domain unless you suddenly become...well not a nuisance.
After crashing through the window into the chamber the enigmatic kneeling figured smirked slightly as he looked up at the Creator before him. "My, my, A pretty one? That's a shame, such a rarity in this abomination filled wasteland... Ah well. It can't be helped." He then rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair as a large ornate Scythe appeared in his hands."Here's the short and narrow sweet cheeks... I'm going to cut you down, and this'll be my domain once I reap your soul and send you packing. Nothing personal, just business." The figure smirked. "Or you could just give up now and save us both the trouble?"
"Well if you really don't want it hen I'll give it right back to The Endless for you." said The Metal Man as he stood up and dissolved the arm chair, and replaced it with a rocket powered Unicycle. "UNI to get a sense of humor Poison Master, learn to appreciated my SHARP wit, get the POINT" he said as he speed off toward the domain of the Endless, cracking up at is own terrible joke, with the large sword strapped to his back.
He reached the domain of the Endless and drove the Unicycle right through the front door.
"The Doctor is in!" he screamed as the door splintered around him dramatically.
This had the adverse affect of alerting every minion on the floor to his presence.
Raziel left the Scrying Pit and gathered the five survivors that still remained. Raziel stared at them once they had assembled in front of him. They stared back. Raziel would have blinked if he still had any eyes or lids to speak of. Instead, he started pacing back and forth, trying to work out how to tell them. After a few minutes, he settled for...
"My fellow... survivors... the Scryer has revealed a troubling development to me," Raziel said with an expression on his face that was meant to look sad and weary, but due to his missing skin, it only made him look that much more threatening, nonetheless, his telepathic voice conveyed his feeling, "The other Gods are gathering their forces to wage war on one another over a fallen God's domain. No... not our dear Nosgoth. They are fighting over a world that can still bear life. I am... unsure of what I should do. As I am still your protector, I feel that I cannot decided how to proceed without your voice. So, my people... should I join the fray and try to claim this world for you? Or should I remain here and ready our defenses lest these avaricious Gods and their slaves turn their attention to us?"
Anyone who wishes can take on the role of any of the five survivors.
As the arms descended from the ceiling Priscilla had to fight many self preservation instincts to not start slashing, shooting, and lobbing explosives at the ungodly, gangly limbs reaching for her. She didn't, no matter how badly she wanted to.
She resisted as the hands gripped her and tried to turn her head, and when the strange monster pried open her eyes she tried to shove it away, but the hands restricted her movement, and at her trying to jerk them free they only held her still with more strength, but suddenly she was released as the strange being finished it's examination. Somewhat shaken by the suddenness of it she quickly recovered and began to formulate her responses.
"Yes... as you so put together I am not fully human, though I prefer to think of it as being more than. I fell in combat in... not exactly agreeable terms. Grievously injured I managed to survive long enough to be recovered, and in the improved form you see now. So, the fall didn't have anything to do with this" she said bluntly, still slightly agitated over being fondled only moments ago.
"And as for my name, it used to be Priscilla. Though as you said there is no longer much need for it. If you wish for a title you may have my serial designation" She took a deep breath and exhaled before speaking again
"AR-12-84, the First and Last of the Spiders Bite unit. At your service" she said, bringing one of her right arms up in a customary salute.
"And to answer your question, you look like the disgusting rump of some perverted puppet. So you're nothing I can't comprehend and deal with"
Standing in the echoing hall, Sehnsucht blinked twice at the brute who had crashed through her window. Moving a hand to cover her left eye with her bole hair, she took a few steps forward, stepping on the glass with her strange springheeled boots. Her arms folded over her chest, with her nails tapping on her forearm. Cut us down~? Why not up or diagonal? How boring! Heeeeeee~ I want to play with this one~! Your voice is grating, Schadenfreude...
"Sir," Sehnsucht's voice calm but piercing somehow at the same time, "I shan't deny that you even making up into my happy home is impressive, I shall grant you the chance to return to your own home, much more than any other wandering fool has been given, And they haven't had the integrity to even make it this far. To break into my home and speak in such a way. I must assign extra points for that."
A small smirk played around her mouth. So, this is who has been skulking around my town and trampling my begonias. A champion nonetheless. You're such a no joy, Sehnsucht~ You're going to make our hair go grey~~~ Let me play with him for just a while~~~! Heee~!
The Metal Man had burst into the Antechamber, a vast room almost the size of a small city, where hordes of Beasts and Monsters roamed as vanguards of the Zone Hall beyond and the Antechamber's stony interior. Dozens of twisted, lupine creatures descended almost immediately upon him, as many more bird-like Beasts circled from above, waiting to strike. Human-like husks staggered forward from large squat, square buildings built into rows along the walls, shambling mindlessly forward. These were not creatures designed to battle with an opponent of the caliber of a Champion, only brainless foot soldiers.
The Endless felt the presence of his repeat intruder, though cared little. There was not much his small-minded minions could do to stop the intruder, and The Metal Man was more of a nuisance than a threat. In short, the intrusion did not warrant his immediate attention.
Instead, The Endless went about his business in the dark room he had gone to on the advice of one of his Aberrations. There was no glyph here, no way for The Metal Man to enter, leaving him alone. Only a few could enter here, and The Endless could regulate them.
The Endless stood atop a veritable mountain of corpses of all kinds: bodies of men-like creatures and piles of the undead, spine-tingling, lifeless dolls with strings removed and piles of what could have been toxic sludge. Even his own abominations were represented, and well. Dingy, nearly nonexistant lighting gave the still bodies an eerie quality. Some still twitched, if ever slightly. This was the Mortuary, where the bodies of the slain were piled for his use.
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