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Post by deflagratio on Aug 9, 2009 18:31:13 GMT -5
[[LONG POST IS LONG D8]] Zant felt himself floating, drifting, sailing through seemingly nothingness. All around him, he felt no air nor void; he was by himself in sheer nothingness. His hands snapped violently inside their sleeves as his mind likewise snapped into consciousness; instantly thrashing within the darkness. Panic shot through his mind, "Where I am!?!" Zant growled to himself, "Where is that Li-What happened to me? DEATH?" Fear rolled through Zant like a sickening dread, and he began to thrash manically to and fro, pounding on his hard metal helmet until Zant felt his body tire, and he slumped into a dangling like pose inside the void.
Then, from nowhere, a light shone down from somewhere high up above. "God! Oh god, you have sent me a sign! Truly you will not forsake me in death!" Zant's arms reached out towards the light, thrashing and swimming up towards the light. His feet kicked in the obsidian sea, and his arms scratched at the black as he pulled himself further towards the light. His sleeves draped from the inside of the black to outside the light, Zant's pale and hidden hands gripping onto the edges of the breech.
The first thing Zant noticed when he pulled himself out of the tear, was a thick gray mist enveloping almost everything in a thick blanket of gray. The second thing he noticed, a bridge of rock stretching out into the mist. Stunned for a second, Zant thought silently, "Is this..Is this my god's realm? Has my lord raised myself to him?" Excitedly, Zant's copper plated boots clanged against the rock as he rushed; half walking half floating down the stone trail shrouded in mist. Then, he heard a voice.
Instantly, his boots skidded to a solid stop as the edges of the platform became visible to him, and thoughts furrowed his brow. "Are those..Are those other servants of my god? Or..Or is this.." Zant dared not imagine the worst. He remembered the sting of the hero's blade fresh on his body, and then his entire form split from the inside out... "What if I am truly dead, and those ahead are demons?" With dread in his mind, Zant lifted himself up with his power. Power! "Yes! I am not forsaken..God has merely sent me to do his bidding!" The mist cloaked his approach as he soared high through the air above Samus and Graves, his eyes trained through his helmet down at the couple. Watch for now, he knew all too well he wasn't immortal.
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Post by Finance your Organs here! on Aug 9, 2009 18:33:07 GMT -5
Graves nodded.
"Some get it for their jobs. Others to survive. But most for fashion statements. After all, a party goer needs a good liver. And now that they came out with their new eye line, everyone wants eyes like Mag," he said.
He didn't mind answering this woman's questions. Besides, the more he told her, maybe she would want surgery, and if she followed him back home, he could get her to buy some Z from him for a surgery. He just needed to push her a bit. He looked at her face and smiled.
"Everyone needs surgery where I come from. Like your cheek bones are last season back home," he said.
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Post by Magdalene Defoe on Aug 9, 2009 18:47:04 GMT -5
It had taken such a long time for her to work up the courage. She must have stood in front of the alley's end for at least ten minutes. Though there was nothing here that she was looking for, the tingle she got when thinking about going through was actually pushing her away from it. She paid no mind to the junkies meandering by, some stopped to stare, others actually came up and pawed at her shoulders and arms in a sort of dazed disbelief. This didn't hurt anything however. She let them be, and all too soon they fell back into their own minds, leaving her alone again to contemplate. She took a step forward, then another, then a step back, and pulled up the hood of her traveling cloak to obscure her face, finally darting forward with a surge of will and into the mist.
Reaching the other side, she stumbled a little, making no sound. Startled, but not really surprised at her surroundings, she kept walking, to the outer edge, so she could hear the speaking as well as she'd previously seen them. Sometimes GeneCo's products came in handy, but she didn't have super hearing, and was very interested, especially when she saw the Graverobber who usually frequented the alley. Was this somehow his fault..? No, it couldn't be. At any rate, it wasn't necessarily a 'bad' thing.
She cleared the last of the mist now, one hand still to her hood hiding her face, the other around her torso in a sort of protective gesture borne of subconscious feeling.
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Post by Nicxan on Aug 9, 2009 18:52:04 GMT -5
Mag? He spoke like she knew what the hell he was talking about. The confusion showed on her face for a split moment, and then she quickly erased it from sight. From what she'd been shown so far, she--
"... Excuse me?" What about her cheekbones? Who gave a damn? Honestly! The slight resentment must've shown; she certainly felt it. Though, she tried to brush it off. "I can do my job just fine, cheekbones looking odd or not."
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Post by deflagratio on Aug 9, 2009 19:02:43 GMT -5
There was no wind, no prevailing sound to prevent Zant from hearing their conversation, but he was unable to make out the exact words with any detail at all. However, by the way the two chatted, he knew just enough that the two were complete strangers. One was armed with mere melee weapons, and the other had some sort of strange technology that exceeded anything he had ever seen. Curiosity, stung Zant's mind, but he brushed it off.
"They..Don't appear to be hostile.." His thoughts started out slowly, creeping along, "They didn't attack each other upon meeting even though they are not friendly..." Soon, his mind was abuzz with thoughts and theories. All of them led to a single conclusion though, that the only way to know was to find out. Besides! Even though one of them was equipped with technology, there wasn't a shard of magic in her. Zant's sleeves blew to either side, and he began to float down from the mist. One foot touched the stone platform, and then the other with two distinct clanks. "Now," he whispered behind his breath and his mask, "Their turn to act."
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Post by Finance your Organs here! on Aug 9, 2009 19:09:22 GMT -5
Graves chuckled.
"Just thought you'd want to know," he said and turned away from Samus.
"If you ever want a quick fix up, just call me. I can hook you up," he said. It was then he noticed the man float down to the platform and stand there. He was weirdly dressed with somesort of fish helmet on. Graves smiled. 'New customer,' he thought to himself.
"Hello there stanger. What's your name?" Graves asked the long sleeved man with the fish head.
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Post by eventidemagic on Aug 9, 2009 19:14:37 GMT -5
Link had wandered off from the others earlier in search for a way back home, but to no avail. He had kept running into dead ends, and he was now thinking that perhaps leaving wasn't such a great idea. Alas, he sluggishly made his way back.
But a few feet from the others was an old enemy- Zant. He was perched upon a rock like the crazed man Link had grown to know him as. A vicious glare formed onto the boy's face as he withdrew his sword and shield. "You...How did YOU get here?!" he exclaimed angrily, slowly pacing towards the Twili.
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Post by Magdalene Defoe on Aug 9, 2009 19:20:01 GMT -5
She'd heard enough. The situation was becoming hostile. Quickly, she walked up to the blonde girl. ...what a strange color for hair, that. ...very unusual.. .. and Graverobber, seeking solace with them. She knew him, and the other, well, didn't look too keen on harming anyone. Still silent, she didn't trust herself to speak yet, not knowing what to say, she stopped a mere few paces from the two, anonymity to most still apparent.
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Post by Nicxan on Aug 9, 2009 19:25:00 GMT -5
The huntress rolled her eyes mentally. "... I'll consider it." With a sigh, she brushed off the exchange. Then, footsteps. Armored ones.
"Hn!?" Samus spun around to see an man--in robes, so obviously an armored Chozo or someone else. Though, that 'Link' seemed to not like him. At all. Warily, she set her arm cannon to fire missiles if a battle erupted. Though, next to this new stranger was someone else. Great. Someone else to keep up with. No one else she knew, either.
Though, considering her attire, she probably wasn't a threat. Nonetheless, Samus remained on guard. "And you would be?" She asked the woman, keeping her arm cannon to her side. "Get back. It's not looking good." A battle. Finally. Something entertaining, instead of drug dealing or confusion. Maybe it'd be cleared up. God, she hoped so.
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Post by deflagratio on Aug 9, 2009 19:45:34 GMT -5
Zant's first move to Link's sudden arrival was a cringe, his metal boot clanging as he took a step back and away from the hero. He felt the ground almost shift under him as one sleeve slowly raised, but then something came to his mind. The mouth plate on his helmet raised, and his cold lips moved slowly in a strange fashion, almost paralyzed with every motion. Something came undone, something snapped, in the back of his mind to see Link coming at him again. His right arm, cloaked in its sleeve, whipped forward and pointed towards Link, and an invisible power gripped the hero's body. The tassels flew forward as Zant threw link backwards into one of the rocks jutting out around the platform. Dragging him down along like a rag doll, Zant grated Link's body against the ground before releasing the hold on Link in full swing. The momentum carried the hero down far one of the paths, Zant not caring nor knowing which one, and his attention snapped back.
Frantically, his mind slowly reapplied itself and Zant clutched the side of his helmet, his hands hidden in his sleeves still. What had he just done? He had just..Thrown away the hero? Defeated his own death, if only for a moment? His eyes frantically looked side to side for any more danger, any more all too familiar faces among the crowd. Something clanged in his mind though, cogs turning back into line. His breathing slowed, his lips stopped shaking with breathless words. "My name.." He managed to speak, his jaw plate clanking back into place, "Is Zant." He was calm. He was collected. He was in control. Not the hero..Not the hero..
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Post by Finance your Organs here! on Aug 9, 2009 19:52:05 GMT -5
Graves stumbled slightly as the platform shook. He watched with interest as Link jumped at Zant, only to be caught in the air by some invisible hand. He was slammed into one of the jagged spires and thrown away like trash.
'Wow. He just did that....by moving his hands? Must not piss that guy off,' he thought.
"Nice to meet you Zant," Graves said with a smile, keeping his composure. He needed to befriend Zant. With a friend like him, he felt bad for any enemies he had.
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Post by Magdalene Defoe on Aug 9, 2009 19:54:34 GMT -5
The display had startled her also. She took a step backwards, eyes darting from Zant to the other two, and spoke her first words. "Where are we?"
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Post by Amaranth on Aug 9, 2009 20:13:49 GMT -5
She was outdoors, or at least, she thought she was. There was a sky above her - sometimes. There was soft earth below her - sometimes. The temperature was strangely warm, the smells all wrong, the sounds - it was so noisy out here! She heard wind in the treetops, but didn't feel it. She was in the middle of a forest, but couldn't touch it. When she walked forward, she went backwards. She couldn't close her eyes for very long because the darkness hurt them.
She didn't know how she had gotten here, whether through a door, a curtain, or around a corner, or perhaps by waking from a dream only to enter another one. Looking in all directions, she saw only the forest, but no doorways, no portals of any kind. Left and right, north and south, rotated around her, first one direction, then another. Shadows shifted as if the sun were rambling aimlessly in the sky.
The earth had been level enough to stand on, but suddenly, with only her feet to tell her, the level ground became a hill. She lost her balance and fell against a tree, but the tree didn't stop her fall. She rolled on the ground as if down a hill, until the ground or gravity or her tumbling senses changed again and she rolled back up the hill, unable to stop herself.
The wind was rushing high above. Rushing. Rushing. Rushing. Bruised, dizzy, and nauseated, she went limp, trying not to move, not to add any effect or energy to this tumbling universe around her. Her body kept moving anyway, rolling, then crawling, then walking, forced to find earth beneath it or a handhold above, or even the next breath of air.
The wind kept rushing, rushing, rushing.
She clamped her eyes shut. The glare of the darkness hurt them, but she kept them shut, and tried to think, tried to find any sensible thought, real sensation, or unjumbled memory. Every nerve, every sense told her the earth had become a raging sea around her. She tried to shut it all out, tried to dig for a word, a thought, a memory.
She was falling again. She opened her eyes and saw tree branches whipping towards her. They slapped her, scratched her, lashed her. She tumbled, spun, crashing through them. She grabbed a limb; it tore loose from her hand. Her body smacked into another, slowing her fall enough to grab on. Her feet flew past her, and she was dangling in space - the sky below her, the ground above - feeling a new terror. There is no stopping when you fall into the sky.
She had fallen into the sky, but now mud, sand, and weeds surrounded her; thorns jabbed her. She got to her feet, trying to escape the pain.
Her mind told her, insisted, that she was running, deliberately putting one foot in front of the other, even though the ground did not move under her feet, or turned when when she did not, or inclined steeply upward though she saw no slope before her. Even when she closed her eyes, she could see. She yelled, cried out, but she heard nothing. The pathway became a precipice and she tumbled headlong, falling through space. She was underwater. She tried to swim; suddenly her groping arms were pulling her forward through hot, dry sand. The sky above was red like a sunset, the earth below an eye-buzzing purple - then green, then gray, then red as the sky turned green.
Where she was, or why, or when, or how, she could not know. There were no days, no hours, no moments, no way of knowing, no chance for knowing how long she had been here.
Been where?
No place, at no particular time.
I am... I am... Her mouth formed the words, but the wind carried them away. She once knew of a field of flowers where something, anything, could be known for sure.
But that time, and that life were becoming...nothing. Non-things. A vacuum, like space.
She groped desperately about in her mind for knowledge, something she could know, something true. But there was no knowledge, no thought, no reason. There was nothing here but terror, endlessly repeating cycles of it, layer upon layer of it, with more, more, more to come, in swirling, kaleidoscopic sounds, images, and sensations, pulsing, pounding, surging, throbbing like a swollen thumb.
The only reality.
- - -
The Joy awoke with a start, panting slightly from the unnerving dream, and glanced at her surroundings. This was definitely not where she had fallen asleep, seeing as how she was laying on the bare ground, with no blankets whatsoever. She raised an eyebrow as she took in the scenery, keeping whatever surprise she was hit with to herself, maintaining a stoic expression.
The platform -- or what she had assessed the area to be -- shook suddenly, making her momentarily lose her footing. Her muscles reacted quickly, and she almost instantly regained control over her balance.
This wasn't right... Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
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Post by Nicxan on Aug 9, 2009 20:19:26 GMT -5
Samus watched in stunned silence as Zant hurled the young boy across the rocks, and towards one of the paths. She had started to run after him, instincts to protect others kicking in, but when he flew out of sight, she stopped cold. She had only taken two steps away from the woman and Graverobber before the platform shook violently, sending her reeling off balance. The huntress stood firm, but now she realized that fighting was not the best idea here.
After sending a scathing glare towards Zant, and ignoring Mag's question, she noticed another body flung seemingly out of nowhere directly towards the center. She didn't come through a path. ... What the ... Samus's feet carried her towards the woman, a look of concern on her face.
"You. Are you all right?" She could worry about who to fight here when they got to a better area to do it.
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Post by deflagratio on Aug 9, 2009 20:36:40 GMT -5
At a passing glance, Zant noticed the woman suddenly appearing from nowhere. "Oh god, tell me what is your plan with this.." Zant's less rational side of his mind rambled as his eyes viewed the strangers through his helmet. He had little realization that the small display of power actually had impressed some of them, but he felt the shaking beneath his boots and a twinge of fear rushed through him like a shock, reminding him that this place was unstable beyond belief. It took Zant awhile to register, that graves had spoken to him.
Turning with two clangs of his plated boots, Zant replied with a deep and dark voice that was mostly muffled behind his helmet, "Then that is well." Zant's segmented mind kept on dragging his eyes back around him, to see his surroundings; or lack thereof. This world was barren, and more and more Zant lost interest in what that came from. But these people, something was special about them. The girl with the strange armor and technology, the and the man and woman; the odd one with the shovel and the other strange eyed one.
Most importantly, was a lack of magic in either. In the light world, and even in the twilight realm, everything was in a constant bath of magic; whether it be from the spirits of light or from inner power. But they carried not a shred...Odd, odd, strange. But a lack of magic, made them less of a threat. Even if he was caught off guard...Yes. He was in control. There was room to relax, yes, room to grow. For now though; he needed to learn what caused the lack of magic on these people. "Where..Where are we?" Zant echoed as his the gears of logic in his mind began turning, "Where we are..Depends on where we came from." The end of his speech was accented, as if he was making it a question.
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