The Unforgiven: RP Thread

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Lysandria has been at war for as long as anyone can remember. Well... Anyone living. The stories tell that the war began 368 years ago, and that the world, on that day, was thrust into darkness and ruin. Our only hope was what the Calranians call the Almsmen of Yore, a group of legendary heroes that exist in their religious tales and bedtime stories. Lore has it that these individuals appear when they're most needed, to shift the balance of the world a bit more favorably, and then vanish, as though they were never there. But that's not what we're all finding to be so troubling.

Recently, a report came through camp that a young girl had been reported as having visions of the Almsmen of Yore, a sign of their eventual coming. But the visions she reported having were... Less than flattering. The Calranians, and the Almsmen of present day, had her locked away for heresy, and crimes against the state that were suspiciously undefined. Oh well. Guess the poor kid had it coming, telling people about her little nightmares. Maybe it's for the best. But then again... Maybe she's not far off. That would explain the dreams I've been having, of late... And the powers... What's happening to me? I guess I'll have to figure that out later. Something's moving about outside of camp, and I'm going to go find whatever it is...

Faowind Caelholdt snuffed out the candle he'd been writing by and closed his leatherbound journal, stuffing it into the inside pocket of his jacket as he reached for his guns, holstering each in its proper home and exiting his tent. The noises had come from the East side of camp, and as he surveyed the area, he noticed that the Forests of Rysendia stretches across the borders of the campsite. He shook his head, wandering toward the edge of the treeline and pressing forward, stepping into the darkness of the trees and maneuvering effortlessly through the dark woods, as though it were by the light of day. He shook his head, wondering what had brought him here to begin with. Probably a passing rabbit... possibly a deer shifting deeper in. Still, if I don't check it out, and camp gets attacked...

He pressed onward, making his way further by the moment, passing the slumbering flora and fauna of the area, almost stepping on a snake hidden beneath the brush at one point. Finally, he stopped at a fallen log by the stream and lit a cigarette, taking a moment's rest as he awaited what was yet to come.

"He disappeared? Well of course he ****ing disappeared, that's his whole gimmick! Don't give me some lame-ass excuse like that, I've been dealing with that blinking shitstain for the last seven years. Just find him!"

The call was ended, and for a brief moment the balding middle-aged man wished it was a land-line, like the old days, so he could slam the receiver down. As it was, doing that to the fancy touchscreen device he bought with the revenue from his missing client would probably make it shatter into so much worthless electro-scrap. He hadn't been joking, either. Ever since the greasy-haired agent had seen Rockabilly vanish in front of a crowd in a cramped little theater, he'd grabbed hold like a leech, sucking the boy for all he was worth during the climb to stardom. The young star probably hadn't even been aware of how much he'd been embezzled for. The kid practically farted money, and that sweet gas had brought the mid-life crisis having agent to a level of luxury he knew would never come again.

Even when Jared started complaining about headaches, and stopped working the public scene, his records were the sweet teats of cash that he could suckle while the ailing star got his shit together. Then came the news that struck fear into the older man's heart: Jared Rockabilly was gone. Not missing, no, the cops said that his penthouse suite at the grand Holton hotel showed now signs of a struggle. He was just gone. He'd never been able to figure out Jared's trick; no one ahead, not even that whackjob magician Crisstina De'vil, and he'd seen her pull off some insane things. So he took a nipple out of his mouth and gave it to a PI firm, hoping they'd find him before they all dried out. Jared definitely made his mark, but the agent had the feeling he was destined to be left behind. He didn't have real staying power, and this old man was gonna be damned if he didn't retire early.

* * *

Somewhere, out in the woods, the relative quiet of the night was disturbed by a loud crack and a sizable thump. "Oh! Owww...shit, man, my heeeaad," Jared groaned as he laid sprawled out along the forest floor, inhaling through his teeth before rising up. He grabbed his knee gingerly, feeling it for any serious injury after dropping on it, then grabbed his head while shutting his eyes tight. His head was pounding, but at least the spots were out of his eyes now. "Ugh...the hell happened?" he muttered to himself once the pain had subsided somewhat and he opened his eyes to look around, "Wh...where am I?" He was surrounded by trees, and Jared had to shake his head vigorously to make sure he wasn't still dreaming, though that did make his headache throb worse.

He hadn't been sleeping well, so he'd taken to all night bouts of Grand Theft Moto to distract him from his thoughts, even going so far as to stay dressed for a show. His online buddies all wished him a happy birthday, which was the only reason he'd even known how much time was passing. Happy 23rd! In the end, though, he'd popped himself onto his bed and crashed. The same dream had been coming to him for weeks now, and it unnerved him that it seemed to be lasting longer and getting clearer. Jared shut his eyes again to try and dull the pain, only for the dream to come rushing at him.

He was walking through some trees, then came into a clearing and just stopped, as if he was waiting for someone. The next thing he knew, he'd fall to the ground and look at his legs, only to see his feet missing. He'd watch in horror as parts of his body started to just vanish, popping out in that way he was so familiar with but leaving the rest of him behind. Each night, more and more of him disappeared, until this time, where he was down to just his head. He knew this was it, and any moment he'd be gone for good. So he shut his eyes and prayed.

His eyes snapped back open, and he took another look around while his body shuddered involuntarily at the revelation slowly dawning on him. These were the trees, the same ones. If he looked over just a bit...the young man felt a knot tighten in the pit of his stomach as he could make out a clearing just a few ways off. Jared stood up carefully, reaching into his pocket and slipping on the brass knuckles he kept on him for self-defense around his right hand, closing it into a fist that brought him a slight bit of comfort. Slowly, as quietly as possible, he made his way toward the clearing, and stepped through. The first thing he noticed was a big change from his last dream: someone was there. Sitting on an old tree trunk, Jared stared at the stranger, still in shock at his disturbing dream coming true.

Tag - Cael

The Big O
It had been almost a full three days since Solomon had escaped the gates of the church and city he had been held prisoner at for several months. He had never thought his fellow Almsmen could be so fanatic. To hold one prisoner just because he was having strange dreams was wrong. But to worship the one you held captive was just insane.

Solomon knew enough of the Almsmen lore to know what his captors believed about him. The dreams of previous lives of battle and powers unexplained was hard to deny. The gods of the past were being reborn and while he hated to admit it, Solomon himself believed he was one of them.

This was not easily and readily accepted by the young man. He was a normal, 21 year-old man 9 months ago. He was a good student. He was in love. He was happy. And then he started to dream. And now, because of that, he was on the run.

He shook the thoughts out of his head as he continued on his way. He never gave any thought to what he would do once he was free from his prison in the church and now that he was, he was lost.

He had no money for safe travel as he did not want to draw attention to himself, though he thought that now that he was out of the city he could relax a bit. He was sure no one outside of the Almsmen's city walls would recognize him, let alone care who he was. But Solomon did not wish to risk anything so he stayed in the shadows of the trees and tall grass when present and kept his head down the rest of the time.

As he continued on his journey to nowhere, he took in the sights. The night sky was a a calming and serene deep purple with the stars scattered and twinkling brightly. The grass was gently bending to the small breeze. The leaves on the trees casually rustled in tandem to with the grass. Not too far from him, Solomon could the nighttime wildlife spring into action.

Small animals were either running away from something or playing. Crickets were chirping with all their might. There were a few owls hooting. Solomon saw something running low to the ground in the distance and decided that it was time for him to get a move on. But that was when something hit him.

This area was so very familiar. He had wandered a ways from the main road as he was caught up in the beauty of nature but it felt like he knew this area. He was sure he had never been in this area before as he had never left the confines on the Almsmen's city. But he recognized the open space. The layout of the trees. Even looking up at the sky caused a feeling of recognition.

He then remembered that something was calling him. Drawing him somewhere. Drawing him here. Solomon didn't know what it was. It was not a voice or a person. It was more like a feeling. A need he didn't realize he had. And for some reason, that need brought him to this wooded area.

As he wandered further into the woods, he let that feeling from before guide him. He didn't know why he did this. He just felt like he should. As he was walking through the trees, something inside him began to well up. Like he was about get some long awaited answers to questions asked years ago or like he was about to see someone he hadn't seen in quite some time.

He traveled a little further and saw another clearing through the trees. It was as if something was pulling him in that direction. He didn't realize that there were people there until he practically ran from the trees. He saw two very different looking guys. One looked like he belonged in a circus and the other looked like he was ready to pummel something or someone. He had never met either of the men but he felt like he knew them.

He couldn't do anything but stand there with a stupefied expression on his face. Some unknown force led him to two strangers? Solomon now knew he was crazy.

Tag - Cael, Jared

Cael inhaled the first draw of his cigarette as he extinguished the flame on his match, exhaling the smoke slowly before he took a moment to survey his surroundings. It took him a moment to register the two newcomers, something that both startled and amused him. If he'd been expecting anything less, he didn't show it, keeping his cool as he stood slowly, addressing the two.

"You. The one that looks like a Jester." He thought inwardly that this may not be the best plan, but he'd never talked his way into a fight he couldn't get out of, and he didn't intend to start now. "What are you doing out here in such bright colors? You a scout for those damned Calranians?"

He then turned his attention to the other man, who looked rather plain by comparison. "And you. Sneaking up on a man enjoying his first cigarette break on a long night's watch?" He shook his head, forming a small shadow over the right side of his body, keeping it turned from them to sell the effect as he slowly reached his hand to his belt, tightly gripping the holster of his handgun, just in case things got ugly.

"I don't know what you two are doing out here, but rest assured... If you intend to cause some form of trouble... I will retaliate. And it will not be pleasant. So..." He thought for a moment, then sat back on the fallen tree, relaxing his grip on the gun a bit as the shadows dissipated. "What. Are you two. Doing here?"

He said it in a somewhat commanding tone, as though they required some form of entitlement to enter these woods. He cursed his pride inwardly for this, knowing himself that his clan was only passing through themselves. However, at this moment, they were camped nearby. And if these two had been causing the noises he'd heard outside his tent, then perhaps he'd accomplished his purpose in traipsing through this forest in the dead of night.

Tag - Jared, Solomon

The Big O
"Well, I cannot speak for," Solomon pointed at the brightly clothed man, "But something about these woods are familiar to me. And something has called me here. Called me from my home and prison with the Almsmen. I wasn't expecting to find anyone." Solomon cocked his head. "This place came to me in my dreams. The trees, the circle of openness above our heads, even that log to sit on was a detail in a reoccurring dreams I've been having for months. However, you two have never been in them." He looked around, still too nervous to relax or move much, though he did step further into the moonlight.

"Why are you two here? This place doesn't seem to have much meaning outside of the fact that it constantly came to me in my sleep." He was speaking more to himself now. Almost questioning the questions he was asking.

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked to the man sitting of the log. "I am Solomon Calormen. I hail from the Almsmen, as I have previously stated. I do not mean to be intrusive but what is your business here? You wear the clothes of a warrior and are in the middle of nowhere. I assume you are on a quest? As are you," he asked, turning to the flamboyantly dressed man.

Tag - Cael, Jared

"Oh man...oh man, oh man oh man ohman."

Jared wasn't really concerned with the fact that there were two people, both of whom looked way more capable at putting a beating on him than he could them. He was still waiting for that sudden falling sensation. He'd only glanced at the both of them for a moment, outright ignoring the jabs at his fashion sense, before looking down at his feet and staring at them as if his line of sight would keep the impending horror of his dreams from coming true. Any minute now, he said to himself, it never takes long. Five...four...three... His eyes are drying out as he stared, not even daring to blink.

He couldn't fight it off, though, and as his eyes closed he waited for that feeling within that split second. His relief and confusion as he still had sight of his shoes were clear on his face. "It doesn't usually take this long," he says slowly, brows furrowed as his mind tried to make sense of what was happening. He raised his arms up to look at his hands, the brass knuckles reflecting the faint starlight. "Are you shitting me?" he says, his face turning from one of confusion to a grin of delighted relief. He clenched his hands into the fists as he decided to try one last test.

If the two men were cautious before, they might become outright panicked as the young star suddenly, literally vanished from their eyesight without a sound or any sense of motion. The sound of heavy breathing came from where they weren't looking, because Jared Rockabilly popped back in on the opposite side of the clearing with his back to the two men, brass knuckled first raised in the air above him with index finger pointing to the sky. The heavy breaths became a husky, almost hysterical laughter as he stood their posing, legs spread out, head bowed, one hand in the air and one at his side, elbow bent with fist resting by his ribs.

"Ha ha ha....HA HA HA HA, YEAH BABY!" he cried out in exultation, "I STILL GOT IT!"

Tag - None


"Hey, man," Jared said from his stance. He then swung his upper body down while pushing off his legs, sending him into a front flip. His right heel swung up towards the stranger at his back, knocking his sarcastic hands aside, if not giving him a little sweet chin music. Either way, he was gone mid-flip. He reappeared back at his original spot and gave each of the men in the clearing a good, real look. His eyes settled on the slow clapper as hand raised up and pointed at him.

"You sure are one to talk about looking funny, bro," he said, giving an exaggerated once over of the man, "someone looking like you ain't got no right to diss the Rockabilly Life, yo." He glanced at the other two as a confident grin came over his face. He started swaying side to side as he said, "Man, you guys have to be the craziest looking bunch of haters I ever crossed. That's cool, though," he continued, he swaying becoming more prominent and his knees bending, "I understand. Must be hard havin' to live in my time, where everybody knows what looks good and what looks whack." He was now shifting weight from leg to leg, the raised leg taking a wide sweep back with each hop, and his arms were swinging in front of him in a rhythm with his legs. It looked like some kind of dance.

"I'll tell you now, though," he finished up, keeping his motions smooth and steady as he looked between the three of them, "that if you want stop me, you gotta catch me first." He was ready to defend himself, confident none of these strangers could touch him, when a thought popped into his head. His movements slowed, then stopped as he straightened up.

"Hold up," he says, looking at Solomon again, "you said you were called to this place? Were you having some weird ass dreams, too?"

Tag - Solomon

The Big O
Solomon was not in the least bit amused at anything he was seeing. The strangely clad man with the uncouth language preforming disappearing tricks in the night; the soldier with not much to say but having a violent glare; and this new arrival, with his weapons all over him and a annoying confidence in abilities not yet shown. This was giving Solomon a rather large headache.

The strange clown then asked him about his dreams. "Yes, trickster. My dreams were, are, strange. They are filled with visions of battles fought long ago. Lives lived constantly. Death. Rebirth. Comrades. Enemies."

He looked around at the gathered. At how different they all appeared from one another. How dangerous the soldier looked without even trying. How lethal the new one appeared with all of his knives dangling off of him. Even the clown appeared ready and capable of a fight. He figured that there was a reason that they all were here, and he was going to try to find out what that reason was.

"And just like you, jester, I am capable of a small trick." Solomon turned to the new arrival and held out his hand toward him, calling out "knife." And just like that, one of the knives hanging off of the man disappeared and reappeared in Solomon's hand. He turned to the soldier and said "gun" with his hand outstretched and the same thing happened; Solomon was now holding the gun the soldier so slyly tried to hide at his side.

Turning to the clown, he looked him up and down. There was nothing Solomon saw that would appear dangerous on him. Then again, the only light out was the moonlight. And it was reflecting off of something the clown had on his hand. Not knowing what it was, Solomon held out his hand again and said "shiny thing." Whatever it was the clown had was now in Solomon's hand. He looked it over and saw that it was some type of brass object.

"I was able to do that after my dreams started." He dropped the brass object and sat down on the ground. He hung his head low and let the memories come back to him as he spoke just above a whisper.

"I am no fighter. I am a scholar. And even then, it is only in things of my people. The Almsmen. They believe in the gods of yore. Beings that were war driven. Saviors of the people from long ago. Righteous entities who would reappear to cleanse this world of all evil.

"That belief was, is, so absolute that they would tear a young man away from his modest but comfortable life just because he began to have dreams of the gods. They would take him from everything he had ever known and place him in a church to worship and serve him as if he were some divine being. They would keep him away from his family, friends, fiance because they believed that the time had come for the gods to be reborn."

He looked up at the gathered with shame and embarrassment in his eyes. "I cannot say that I believe what my people do, but then the dreams were so real and familiar. And then I was able to work...I don't even know what to call it," Solomon said, shaking his head in mild confusion. "I was able to call things to me. My greatest mistake was figuring this out in front of all of my fanatic captors. This cemented their beliefs and I later escaped. I ran for three days and am now here in the midst of you all. Led by something unseen. Unheard. Unknown. But something familiar."

Solomon smiled a sorrowful to himself and then looked up at the three other men. "Forgive me for the rant. I only wish to convey why I am here. Please tell me if any of you have any answers."

Tag - Cael, Jared, Elijah

"Yes, trickster. My dreams were, are, strange..."

Jared opens his mouth to correct Solomon, but after hearing about his dreams, he keeps quiet. He had always been disturbed by first portion of his dream, and thought he'd woken up because of it, but the Almsman's words were bringing back something else to his mind. Things that had faded with each waking day. His thoughts were broken as he heard Solomon referring to him again.

"And just like you, jester, I am capable of a small trick."

This time he frowned at the man and replied, "Hey man, I ain't no tr-whoa, what?!" His retort was interrupted as he watched the man suddenly have the weapons from the other two in hand. Jared brought his fists up, only to notice that his brass knuckles were missing. He stared at his bare fist, then at Solomon and saw the man dropping the knuckles to the ground. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, while watching Solomon settle onto the ground. He suddenly wasn't so confident about being able to hold his own against these guys. As he listened to the monologue, however, he couldn't help but feel a slight comparison. It sounded a lot like the Almsman had turned into a star overnight, and that's a harsh change for anybody to deal with.

Tag - None

Elijah watched as the fool did his flip and attempted to impress with his slow moments and his flashy kick with no power behind it, however, his ability to transport instently did leave an impression. Elijah didn't budge as the man's heel hit his hands, did he not see the rather large blade on his arm, he nearly severed his own foot. He stared at Jared as he monkied around and attempted to insalt, he clearly was overconfident in his ability to escape so he wouldn't bother with him and ignored his words for now and turned his attention to the others.

Elijah listen to to the other man speak and seemed to have more sense then the clown did. As he spoke of his dreams Elijah recalled having simural dreams of chaos and war, he just figured it was normal. After the night he was ambushed and his powers revealed themselves was when he started having rhe dreams, he used to wonder what they meant, however, he just started to ignore them.

The man who was talking then displayed his ability calling the soliders pistol, it was similar to the jesters power but transported items. Elijah then felt a blade leave him and watched it appear in his hands along with whatever Jared was holding. He felt a bit angered that the man took his favorite knife but quickly got over and listen to him cry about his sad life.

Elijah snicked from underneath his hood, "Why didn't just kill your captors, with your powers, it should have been easy. Just call a weapon to you and drive it through anyone that got away, it's as simple as riding a bike. With my ability I take what I want, let me show you." He says almost too calmly.

With out a hint of movement the blade in Solomon's held shot out of his hand and stopped just a hair away from finding a new home and the clowns skull. "I'm able to push, pull, and bend metal to my will." He disclosed as the blade hung in the air still before shooting back to the owners hand.

"And as for your dream, I've had similar dreams, it's obvious that fate has brought us together," he shot a scowl at the clown from under his hood before continuing, "whether it be divin or not."

He looked at the solider who he was about to ambush for his belongings, "What about you, I assume you also have an ability, it seems this was a fated meeting between freaks," he quaried.

tag-Solomon, Cael, Jared.

"Why didn't just kill your captors, with your powers, it should have been easy. Just call a weapon to you and drive it through anyone that got away, it's as simple as riding a bike. With my ability I take what I want, let me show you."

Jared had pretty much decided that he didn't like this particular ******* from his entrance, and what he said only furthered his resolve. It also brought a knot into his stomach as he heard the man talk about having a power as well. Unlike Solomon, who seemed like more or less a cool guy, this other one was obviously psycho. Having uber skills on top of that just spelled bad news. He saw Mr. Crazy Knife looking at Solomon, and hoped he wasn't going to use the poor guy as a demonstration. Then he noticed the knife come flying at him.

"Whoa, what th-" his sentence was left hanging incomplete as he popped out, and finished as he reappeared next to Solomon, "-e ****ing ****, man!?"

"I'm able to push, pull, and bend metal to my will."

Oh great, why does psychostick over there get the broken ass power?! Jared thought to himself as he immediately looked to see if he had any metal on him. His vest had a zipper on it. Gone, he thought as he pulled it off and threw it away, what else? His shoes were a pair of those brand new, prototype Nyke with "comfortable" steel toes. They really were comfortable, too, but...he heaved a sigh as reached down, working the shoes off and tossing them away as well. "Damn, man," he muttered, half listening to the rest of what Mr. Mag-Neat-O had to say as he looked up again.

"What about you, I assume you also have an ability, it seems this was a fated meeting between freaks."

Jared considered speaking up to answer, as he'd seen the smoker use his power briefly, or what he was assuming was his ability at this point, but decided to keep his mouth shut on it. He didn't like the walking knife drawer, so why should he help him?

Tag - None

The Big O
Solomon did not respond in kind to the knife wielder. "I am no murderer like you," he sneered. "And I would not use ANY skill I posses to ever take a life. Even those of my captors." He turned to the clown. "I am sorry for that poor display of showmanship. You are not harmed, are you?"

His eyes bulged when he saw the man removing articles of clothes. "What are you doing?" He assumed that there was metal somewhere in the clown's clothes and attempted to pacify him. "While it is unfortunate that the killer has an ability and no morals to speak of, I doubt that he will kill us right here. Not when there is another, more promising target," he said looking over to the soldier who hadn't spoken since they all appeared before him.

Tag - Elijah (responding), Jared, Cael (in passing) in that order

The Scenario
Isaac looked down over the side of the ship, knowing he'd never see anything at his current altitude. Not without specialized equipment, anyway. Still, he enjoyed taking in the sight of the world below whenever the universe deigned to give him a moment of peace. Forests were an unusual sight to him, though Isaac suspected they shouldn't have been, given how far into Rysendian territory he'd managed to throw himself. There was just something so adorably...quaint, about it all. Isaac gripped his hammer closer as a thought came over him. Trees made for difficult landings. A smile crept at the edges of his mouth. Seemed like a challenge.

The sound of footsteps broke Isaac from his musings, and he looked up to find a member of his crew approaching. Slowly. The man was a typical Calranian, slow and cautious, though this particular one had an air of obliviousness around him few could match. If it wasn't within his realm of expertise, he was hard pressed to care. Isaac sparred the man a glance as his goggles lit up, and a holographic projection appeared before him. Only when he was good and ready would he begin to speak.

"Captain, this site matches the reports with 93% accuracy. If the information we've received is accurate, the area just below is most likely our target. Further, scans shows several creatures gathering; mass and heat signatures suggest they are human."

Isaac nodded in acknowledgement of the report, waving the speaker closer. It hadn't been easy to find this place, he knew. Locating a single area, in a forest at that, based on secondhand descriptions of dreams and memories? An impossible task, to be sure. At least, it would have been if not for that girl. The "heretic"'s testimony had proven invaluable in sorting out the details. Although Isaac could never get close enough to her himself, he could certainly access records of her statements that no one had seen fit to erase. Perhaps they would be after her execution, who knew? All Isaac cared about were the Old Almsmen. If there ever existed a way to end the war, they were it, whether they were heroic or not was no concern.

With a whir of machinery, Isaac's armor seemed to materialize around him, his grin widening. It had always been there, of course, but hidden and inactive. Isaac much preferred the comfort of flying jacket, but the armor was an unfortunate necessity for what was to come. The grip on his great hammer secure, and all his other weapons safe in their holsters or sheaths, respectively, Isaac began to move. One way or another, this was going to be a turning point.

"Captain, I would recommend against immediate-"

Whatever the young man was going to say next was lost to the wind as Isaac leaped over the side of the flying ship. He fell quickly, straightening his body and shooting downward with all the force he could muster. It would take several seconds, though the world was rapidly coming into view. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Isaac reached target height. A small click signaled the activation of the grav-unit within Isaac armor, and he immediately spread his limbs to catch the air rushing past him. Trees leaped up, and Isaac twirled in mid air, swerving just enough to miss them as he slammed fist first into the ground. At the same time, several small rocks and flecks of dirt flew into the air, propelled by the gravity controller's field. Isaac stood, prompting the detritus to fall back to its former position. He looked up and around, finding himself in more or less the center of the clearing. Bullseye.

Of course, Isaac wasn't alone. He glanced towards the mismatched group and gave his best grin, hefting his hammer once again over his shoulder.

"Good evening, all."

Tag - Everyone (secondary tag- low priority; you may finish other conversations/actions before responding)

"I am sorry for that poor display of showmanship. You are not harmed, are you?"

"Naw, I'm a'ight," Jared replied in passing while shrugging off his vest.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?" Jared grunted as he worked off his left shoe.

"While it is unfortunate that the killer has an ability and no morals to speak of, I doubt that he will kill us right here. Not when there is another, more promising target."

"Uh-uh, man. No way," Jared retorted while shooting a glare at the magnet man, "You're alright, but I ain't givin' him no freebies, dig? Ain't happening, Sol-Man."

If Solomon had planned to reply to him, it was probably interrupted as they had another guest make a grand entrance. Jared's teeth chattered in his skull from the force of impact, and he had to closes his eyes and raises his hands up as he saw clods of dirt and rocks shoot up. "OH SHIT!" When nothing hit him, he lowered his arm to look, and saw the armored man standing there with A BIG HONKING HAMMER.

"Good evening, all."

Jared took one look at the man, and just called out to the group, "Hey, yo, which one of you dudes are calling in the air strikes up in here? Not cool, bros. Not cool."

Tag - All

Cael had been watching everything silently, taking in all that was said, and all that occurred. He was a bit stunned when he saw his gun suddenly appear in the man's hand, but then shook it off relatively simply.

Of course, I couldn't be the only one with powers... How could I have been so f*cking naive as to believe that?

He found himself impressed with this colorful man's teleporting, musing to himself that it would be a nice power to have received, as well. However, he loved his ShadowCasting, as he'd come to call it, and wouldn't be willing to trade it for the world. Stealth had always been his ally, though normally the Freyans relied on brute strength, rather than a tactical approach. As he pondered on it, he remembered his father always saying in passing that Cael was born to the wrong clan, but that he thanked the Nine for it every day, because the clan had needed something to change.

He watched the Magnetic Assassin play with his knives, the conversation passing back and forth over Cael as he sat silently on his fallen tree, finishing his cigarette. After a moment or two, he stood, clapping slowly before tossing away the cigarette somewhere near the stream, knowing that it would be out, and no danger to the wildlife of the surrounding area, aside from whatever creatures were unfortunate enough to drink downstream of it for the next day.

Even then, he mused to himself, it will be nothing more than a bit of slight indigestion.

He walked to the edge of the clearing, barely making himself visible in the normally dim moonlight, which he noted felt incredibly bright this evening, especially for the treetops overhead. Finally, as the man called Solomon asked about his powers, he broke his silence.

"As we are all displaying our... gifts... I can only assume that we were all brought here for a reason, whatever that reason may be. I will gladly display mine, if you would please return to me my firearm? It belonged to my late father, and I hold it quite dear."

Cael stepped forward slowly, both arms plainly visible to show the others that he meant no threat to any of them... for now. He reached forward, taking his weapon from Solomon and wiping the handle down on his shirt before spinning it a few times over his index finger and holstering it again. He smiled, stepping back a bit, slowly again, though moreso out of caution of the knife-wielder, who now stood at his back.

"My power manifested a few months back, though it's only just getting to the point that I can control it well. These dreams you all spoke of... It seems we share more than a few special abilities and a chance encounter."

He walked in a small circle between them, stopping briefly in front of each as he named off what he had seen, thus far.

"Solomon, was it? You have a unique ability to call to you whatever you choose, although I'm assuming there's a bit more to it than that... You..." He stopped in front of the multi-colored man. "Despite your overly colorful ensemble, and your voraciously profane behaviors and language, have the ability to shift to any place you choose. A very useful talent, if I do say so myself. I assume you've practiced, but keep using it, getting better at it... I assure you, you'll be an indomitable force, someday... If you use it properly..." He found himself now facing down the assassin. He didn't care for the demeanor of this individual, though he somewhat liked him more than the technicolored one.

"You... Your magnetism is useful. There's no telling how many have fallen to your blade both because of it and beforehand. You, as I, are probably the only warrior among this lot, so you understand the impact and power of this gift. I will not tell you its value, nor to practice it. As a warrior, you know how best to utilize this gift, and as such, I expect that you are quite well-trained." He leaned closer to the man, whispering so that they would be the only two who could hear it. "I know you were the one I heard, and traced. I can sense it. I mean you no harm now, though I'm sure that you still mean to seek whatever it is you are after from me. We shall have our day, but as these two are mere civilians, from what I can see, I would ask that we save that dispute for another day and time. I may not like the one," he nodded back toward the colorful one, "and the other is an Almsman, but... I cannot, and will not, endanger them here. I hope we have an understanding."

He nodded his assent to the assassin, his voice returning to a normal level as he reached the center of the clearing, the most lighted area he could find.

"My powers are not quite like those you all have, though are just as deadly, if used properly. Watch carefully, lest you miss the greatness that is... My ShadowCasting."

And with that final word, shadows began to swarm around him, engulfing him in darkness as he disappeared, his voice audibly shifting around them from the shadows as he maneuvered quickly about, hoping to prove his point as he remained cloaked.

"You see, I can move the shadows to my will... I can cloak myself, or anything within a certain proximity... And I can move within the shadows, unseen and unknown, until I wish it to be so... As you saw, I even managed to move with the shadows, dissipating within them at my will..."

As his last words were spoken, the shadows cleared to find him lighting another cigarette, sitting back on the fallen tree he had unofficially claimed upon entering the clearing. He took a few draws, watching the others go about their interactions as a whistling sound came from overhead... Then a louder sound... Then a crash in the center. As the dust cleared, he saw the man step out, hammer in hand, and took a deep draw of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly in a long sigh.

Looks like it's going to be an even longer night than I originally expected

Tags: Everyone, though in order, it would be Solomon, Jared, Elijah, Isaac

The Big O
I did not speak my name, did I, Solomon thought to himself as the clown deftly referred to him. He went back over his triad again when the soldier spoke his name. Maybe word that tone of the gods have been reborn was carried from the walls of my people to other lands. That may be how these men know my name. Seeming at peace with this, Solomon was entranced by the soldiers ability.

He thought that it was similar to the colorful one's in a very small way. However, he started thinking that he and the clown had more in common with their abilities. The clown transported himself and Solomon transported objects. It was strange the way life was turning out to be.

Before he could delve deeper into his own thoughts, something fell from the night sky. It landed close enough to him that he was knocked back by the impact. Raising himself up on his elbows, he saw a man step out form the dust cloud in a suit of tech-armor with a giant war hammer.

Swallowing a gulp, Solomon said aloud, "These are strange days indeed."

Tag - No one in particular

The Scenario
"Oh, no airstrikes, nothing like that," Isaac said in his best 'friendly sounding' voice. He set his hammer down gently, handle up with a foot resting on the head, and made a show of his empty hands. Even if his laser pistol was clearly visible at his side, and anyone familiar with his magnetic gloves knew he could call a knife to his hand with a gesture. The thought that counts and all that, right?

To be honest, the group wasn't what he expected. Then again, he wasn't sure what he'd expected of them. Of the several gathered, maybe two looked like they could hold their own in a fight. The knife nut seemed like a sure bet, as did the smoker with the guns. The other two Isaac was less sure of, though they seemed to total opposites. One appeared unassuming and rather plain, while the other was ostentatiously colorful, yet Isaac could have sworn he'd seen the man somewhere before. He certainly looked the part of a performer.

"Name's Isaac," he began, "and on behalf of the Great Calranian Empire, I'm here to make you good folks an offer. Now, you're supposed to be the Almsmen of Yore, right? Legends and heroes and all that. I hear you got powers enough to turn the tide of battles, so how about it?"

Isaac spread his hands wide, as if to encompass the world. "You lend me your strength, and you'll have all you want and more. Just got to do a little fighting, and that's it."

Tags- Elijah (knife nut), Cael (smoker), Solomon (plain), Jared (haven't I seen you before?)

Cael turned away from the newest member of the little gathering, laughing somewhat as he did so.

"The Almsmen of Yore? You're kidding, right?" He returned his focus to the man, a serious look crossing his face as he did so. "The Almsmen are a legend. Nothing more. They don't exist. Never have, and never will. It's kinda sad that you... Calranians can't do anything without clinging to fairy tales and children's bedtime stories."

He stood, walking toward the center of the clearing, his hands resting on his guns as he did so. "So let me ask you this. Even if the Almsmen are real... And that's a pretty strong if... What makes you think we're them?"

Tags: Isaac

The Big O
Solomon spoke up and looked from Isaac to Cael. "Actually. When I was held captive and my people were worshiping me, it was because they believed I was one of the Old Ones reborn." He started to pace back and forth as things began to work in his mind. "As I've said before, my people, the Almsmen, have such a strong belief in the gods of long ago that they basically kidnapped and set me up in a church to worship me as one of them.

"And the dreams were revealing themselves. Showing me, what, the past? I didn't know what it was back then. But I suppose they could mean something now. Right? I mean, we've all had similar dreams that led us here. We all have...abilities. Maybe there is some semblance to what this Isaac is saying.

"There has to be. If some people believe it, that belief has to come from somewhere. Doesn't it?"

Tag - Everyone, I suppose. Makes sense

The Scenario
Isaac tilted his head in the soldier's direction, his strained smile cracking slightly. He idly noted the man reaching for guns, and mimicked the gesture by resting a hand on his own holster. At the same time, he began to slouch over the handle of the hammer still nigh embedded in the ground.

"Is that how it's going to be? We're just going to pretend thing haven't been happening, huh? That the little heretic girl hasn't had her face plastered all over, that there's a certain supernatural element on the rise?"

With another tilt of his head, Isaac indicated Jared.

"At 700 feet, Mr. Performer over there was on the other side of this clearing."

A flick of the wrist returned to Cael.

"At 400 feet, you weren't here. Just wander out of the shadows, did you?"

Issac fell silent when Solomon began to speak. Slowly, the smile covering his face became more and more genuine. Dreams, eh? One of the very things that had lead him here, and he wasn't about to give up.

"Sounds like you've got the idea. Old Ones or not, you bunch have power, and I'm in the market."

Tags- Cael, Jared, Solomon, All. In that order.

"Now, you're supposed to be the Almsmen of Yore, right? Legends and heroes and all that. I hear you got powers enough to turn the tide of battles, so how about it?"


"The Almsmen are a legend. Nothing more. They don't exist. Never have, and never will. It's kinda sad that you... Calranians can't do anything without clinging to fairy tales and children's bedtime stories."


Jared was getting more confused by the second. There was a lot of talk about some old stories he remembered hearing about vaguely when he was a kid. They all seemed to be making connections to something he was completely unaware of, and it made him scratch his head in uncertainty.

"Is that how it's going to be? We're just going to pretend thing haven't been happening, huh? That the little heretic girl hasn't had her face plastered all over, that there's a certain supernatural element on the rise?"

That sentence did bring to mind a something he remembered reading along one of those ticker things on the news channels. He'd been flipping channels bored one night, landing on the news. It was just a blurb, but for some reason it had caught his attention. Jared wondered about it for a moment before noticing the walking tank nodded towards him.

"At 700 feet, Mr. Performer over there was on the other side of this clearing."

The reference in measurement made the young man turn his head up, wondering if he might actually be able to see where Jet Jackson had come from. He looked back down as he heard Solomon speaking.

"Actually. When I was held captive and my people were worshiping me, it was because they believed I was one of the Old Ones reborn...and the dreams were revealing themselves. Showing me, what, the past? I didn't know what it was back then. But I suppose they could mean something now. Right? I mean, we've all had similar dreams that led us here. We all have...abilities. Maybe there is some semblance to what this Isaac is saying."

"Sounds like you've got the idea. Old Ones or not, you bunch have power, and I'm in the market."

"Yo, no offense" he finally spoke up, looking at Isaac while throwing an arm up to indicate to the man's hefty gear, "it looks like you really ain't got much to worry about. Now, I admit a site don't start hopping until the Rockabilly makes the scene," he continued as he kicked off his remaining shoe and stepped away from it, "but I'm not really digging the show you're offering."

Tag - Isaac

The Big O
"I, too, am a little wary of what you're saying, Isaac. It sounds as if you are asking that we join some cause you have for a war," Solomon almost questioned as he looked around the group. "As you can plainly see, I am no fighter. And what exactly is your 'market?' I can tell you that it does not sound like a place where you buy something." Solomon took a quick pause as he mulled what he just said over. "Or is it?"

Tag - Isaac

The Scenario
Isaac frowned at the words he was hearing, before slumping his shoulders into a small sigh. He'd expected something like this from at least one of them, but two? Isaac straightened, his face becoming a grim mask of its former self. The other Ones were quiet , so it seemed as if everything was beginning to fall on deaf ears.

"Hmph," Isaac grunted. "So that's your answer, huh?"

Isaac's arms found their way behind his back, gripping his own wrists as he began to pace around his hammer. "Now, see, that presents a bit of a problem. I can't exactly have one of you running off to an enemy, now can can I? To be certain, some of you ain't fighters, but I've never seen a war won with soldiers alone."

"So I'm afraid I have to say there's one thing that really should be made clear here. When I said I had need of you," Isaac's hands left his back, one finding its way to his large hammer's haft, while the other retrieves the laser pistol hanging at his side. The gun leaped from its holster to point in Jared's direction. At the same moment, a mechanical hum started up as the gravhammer buzzed to life. Isaac's eyes narrowed, and a slight scowl was the only expression he allowed to show on his face.

"I wasn't asking."

Tags- Jared, Solomon, All.

"Hmph, so that's your answer, huh?"

"Yeah man. I know how to hold my own, but war just ain't my scene," Jared replied. He felt his skin prickle as Isaac started pacing, his eyes wandering to that humongoid hammer of his.

"Now, see, that presents a bit of a problem. I can't exactly have one of you running off to an enemy, now can can I? To be certain, some of you ain't fighters, but I've never seen a war won with soldiers alone. So I'm afraid I have to say there's one thing that really should be made clear here. When I said I had need of you..."

That prickly feeling was getting worse. Jared tensed up and started backing away as he saw Isaac slowing down. Seeing his hand go to the hammer's handle made him glad for the foresight.

"...I wasn't asking."

He forgot all about that gun, though. Was he faster than the trigger man? Only one way to find out, Jared thought as he vanished. He could have bailed, maybe. He still had no idea how far he was from home. It wouldn't give him any answers though, and he'd really, really like some damn answers. So he reappeared within the treeline, crouched low and behind cover. This definitely wasn't his scene, but he'd wait and see what would come of it.

Tag - Isaac

The Big O
Solomon looked around after Jared disappeared. What a convenient ability, he thought to himself. It was just he and the other two in front of this Isaac fellow and the other two didn't look to terribly worried that the machine-ladend man had pretty much just threatened them.

He held his hands up as he backed away. "Is there no other way we can go about discussing this other than resorting to violence? As I said before, I am no fighter. But I do not wish to become someone's slave again. I implore you to put your weapons away. We shall not harm you and hope to receive none from you either."

Tag - Isaac

The Scenario
Isaac cursed under his breath when the gaudy man disappeared. He quickly pivoted, keeping one eye on the group while he scanned his surroundings. It was a bad situation, he knew. Should he divert his attention from any of them for a moment, it would leave him vulnerable to attack. At the same time, the trickster could be anywhere, whether running away or preparing an attack of his own. Despite himself, Isaac smiled. This was the reason he wanted such an ability in the first place, after all.

Idly, Isaac noted that someone else was speaking. The one claiming not to be a fighter. Isaac spared him a glance and a smile that was all teeth. "A slave, huh? Good, you already know how this works, then. Surrender, and you might just earn some freedom soon enough."

Even as he spoke, Isaac continued to scan the treeline for signs of life. Maybe if the other fool had stuck around, there'd be some sign of it. A broken branch, perhaps, or a shifting bush. That was how it worked, right? Forests weren't exactly Isaac's forte, and he saw nothing he recognized that would indicate the man's presence. Just his luck, then.

Tags- Solomon, Jared

The Big O
There was no reason for Solomon to believe anything that this Isaac said. The cunning-looking grin he wore on his face when he spoke to him said as much.

As Isaac was looking to the woods, Solomon kept his eyes on him. He knew how fatal a mistake could be if he did otherwise. He was hoping in the pit of his belly that Jared was planning something that would help get them out of this situation.

In response to Isaac, Solomon rebuttaled. "Your words have no value when you hold weapons against us. Lay your armament down and let us discuss this like civilized men. After all, it is you who wants, or shall I say, needs something from us. What good would any of us be if you so decide to use any of your weapons against us?"

Tag - Isaac

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