1.No Godmodding (period)
3.No spamming (all post should be at least four lines long)
5.No more than three posts per day (This may get decrease because I know at least one person who might have trouble keeping pace if there are too many posts)
6.Have fun (this is the most important rule punishable by lethal injection (and the electric chair if you live in florida, and posse if you live in Texas))
7. I'm going to ask that every fifteen pages that everyone repost their character sheets in the sign up page. This is to confirm that you are still rping and to allow everyone to keep track of everyone else
8. After your character gains an ability or mutation have a small blurb at the bottom of your post describing it.
Example: Allana grinned and felt new power surge into her fists... bending the flowing tnedrils of Anima to her will her hands erupted into fire. etc etc etc
New ability: Flaming Fist (using her skill at manipulating Anima based fire Allana is able to set her hands on fire without taking damage from them)
Feel free to ask me questions if you have any and to make requests if you so desire. Remember if your not having fun with this RP I’m not doing my job.
The blue letter, an H, hovered slightly in the black currents. There the flashing lights of human souls moving past them gave this region of the Anima a darkened feel. Relatively few souls passed through this area anymore. This cycle was almost at its completion however neither the white nor the black letters (Y and W respectively) could decided whether or not now was the proper time to finish the cycle. Not even the blue could tell how long it had been since the first cycle or even if there had been a first cycle, so long had this been going on.
“We should do it sooner rather then later. Bring in the conflict of Chaos so that from it a newer strong world can be made! This world has grown reticent and does not change, it will stagnate and die! Every forest needs sweeping wildfires to stay healthy and we can provide that!” said the black, his voice brimming with his own confidence. This one was infinitely logical and technically speaking was probably right but did not take into account the misery it might cause. To him misery wasn’t really even a factor, merely an illusion spread by people who didn’t think because they lacked the keenness of mind to pierce through it. “The Anima is growing thin, soon the cycle will stop on its own but at that point it will have lost momentum. Better to end it while there are still a large number of souls that can bear through the Dissension.”
“But…the more people there are the more misery there will be, the more people will suffer.” Here the Black interrupted saying the ether of the Anima could take the strain of the suffering but the White kept talking, knowing that the Black would miss the point he had been going for, “No! I mean we cannot make these people suffer! Our mission should be to protect these souls, these portioned fragments of Anima from suffering at all costs! I think we should wait until more souls have passed through so that we can avoid the collateral damage. Even though I’m loathe to cause it in the first place.” I was rare, now that Blue thought about it that Y would speak so much and so harshly, even though his voice was calm and wise from the outside. Normally Y would avoid the argument with kind words but here of course he couldn’t and though he tried to remain his normally passive state it was obvious he was deeply adamant about his position.
“But then we loose the momentum and the next world will have problems with its inception. The amount of humans that come might not even be enough to bring about the Resurrection!” It was obvious W was getting excited as he was putting his opponent in what he thought was a logical corner, but then Black was one of will and logic and not of the emotions necessary to understand the one with whom he was debating.
“We can put more of our energy into the living world… it will support us.”
“That may be but our duty is to not interfere. We should only end and remake the world with possibly a small amount of influence during the hours of Chaos. The world should exist in its own right.”
“Silence…” whispered the Blue Letter. He was growing rather tired with those two elements and decided to ask the one whose vote could swing either way, the one who would ultimately determine when the Dissension came. “You haven’t spoke yet. What do you think?” He asked toward the Red Letter (another H).
The Red hesitated, thinking over his answer and when he had obtained it mustering the courage to say it. He never really liked to talk and this was especially true when Black and White could not agree, it was unavoidable given his nature, those two had to be in perfect concert in order for the Red to be able to act to its fullest potential. He was still hesitant even when he spoke, “Well… I think that man is no longer growing. They have reached an apex, and unfortunately there does not appear to be a down slope. They have made their world too stable… and…if its too stable no one can grow strong. Peace is too easily given. I think the world should be unmade.”
“So be it…” muttered the Blue… the Sigil of the Binding flashing in front of the four… “We return”
Several Months later:
Mastema woke up, his eyes gazing into the twisting currents of the purple sky. They sky seemed to flow, and indeed it did, for the sky was the currents of Anima, made visible by the sheer number of souls swelling inside it. The currents, the small swirls and crosswise eddies being accepted moved toward on pole of the world… or rather they looped around the world. Since Chaos was an orb much like earth, though smaller and with only large lakes and not oceans. The overall land surface area of Chaos was only slightly greater then the former United North American alliance, which had been an amalgam of Mexico, Canada, and the United States. It was the looping of Animaic energies over Chaos that allowed it to maintain itself. At one pole of Chaos there was a giant sink, where all the lines of Anima fell into the earth and then passed through the core of Chaos before coming out the other end to go back into the sky. It was through this method that Anima passed through the ground and then bubbled up its spiritual energy up through the ground. This might come up in the form off a spring or a gas or it might even be converted by one of the Chaos trees (actually a peaceful, Harmony demon) that would covert it into a large fruit. It was through the consumption of such materials that hunger was sated and the thought made Mastema notice his own stomach’s rumblings and he sat up. He had slept on the ground, not having bartered for a mat but he didn’t really mind, over the past few months he had gotten used to sleep on the hard earth…or the soft earth as not all rocks in Chaos were hard, these though, happened to be.
He stood up and began walking through the camp that him and his fellow travels had made… which was pretty much just setting their stuff down and going to sleep. It was ramshackle but it was fitting and it didn’t seem to hurt anything so as far as Mastema was concerned it was good. He let himself move past the other members of his group, almost floating with grace. The first person he passed was Miguel Graywind. He remembered their meeting, Miguel couldn’t believe how passive Mastema was but Mastema had argued that forcing the world inevitably resulted in backlash. Though it didn’t seem like Miguel believed what Mastema said he had decided to follow him irregardless.
The next person was Link. The boy was odd but that never bothered Mastema who was quite odd himself though in a different way. Mastema was not exactly certain why Link traveled together with him but he supposed it was for lack of any other sort of direction and the random wanderings of a group seemed more meaningful then those of loner.
The last one to have joined was the one called Aruzaer. A calm, and unusually unobtrusive Orderite that had joined him not more then a weak ago. He was never inclined to agree with those who followed the Philosophy of Order, as his relationship with Miguel would indicate, but this one was unusually mellow and it certainly was refreshing. The world moved in mysterious ways indeed.
Mastema sighed, he liked these wanderings. The travel with no really destination, just letting the currents of the earth push and pull one where ever it might lead them without care for what was over the next hill. He gripped his chest, the mark beneath sent urges of pain through him for a moment but they passed and he looked toward the Seal of the Body. He always knew where it was, ever since he had stepped on Chaos’ ground. He dipped his hands into the brook the rolled by through the arch of two tree roots. He lifted the sweet spiritual liquid to his mouth and drank it, and instantly was refreashed.
Samael woke up alone. He liked it this way. Sitting up he looked toward where his comrades where sleeping. He was the last one to sleep and was the first one up. This gave him a nice period of peace where he could be alone. He hesitated before letting his eyes fall on any of them. What if they opened there eyes and saw him looking at them? What would they think? Would it matter? He decided to move in chronological order in how they had joined his group, if only because it would keep him from having a reason as to who to look at first.
He let his eyes flow briefly over Edena. She was a hassle. For some reason after he had decided not to kill her for trying to steal his scythe she had started following him around and occasionally grabbing him. He couldn’t understand why she did that but what he did know was that it was awkward for him and he didn’t care for it. Contact was not something he could take in large doses and hers was a keg.
Then there was Makiko. She pressed him almost as much as Edena but she wasn’t nearly as aggressive about it. He had saved her when she was in trouble since she didn’t appear to have any way of defending herself. Afterwards she had continued with him, he assumed it was because it was safer for her to. He could understand that and to that end he let her stay, though he still tried to avoid talking whenever possible.
Lastly, there was Saif. He didn’t know much about the boy but he didn’t really need to. He didn’t feel it was his position to know anything nor was it something he wanted, he preferred a cool distance between himself and others, so they never had to learn about his weaknesses..
Silently, Samael stood up and walked to a near by tree, stepping a near by hill covered in knee high grass that sang a sweet and haunting melody as the wind blew through it. Tuning Grass, he always called it because, each blade, depending on its height and thickness produced a particular note when blown on, like a tuning fork. He began to hum and old song from the old world to himself… he had always taken a fascination to the world music… perhaps it was the nature of his role in the world.
There are beads
that wrap around your knees
that crackle into the dark
Like a walk in the park
ike a hole in your head
Like the feeling you get when you realize you're dead
This time we ride roller coasters into the ocean
We feel no emotion
as we spiral down to the world
And I guess it's worth your time
Because there's some lives you live
And some you leave behind
It gets hard to explain
The gardenhead knows my name *
After he got to the tree he went silent and picked from its branches a large gnarled-looking fruit. Bringing the fruit back down to the camp he started a small fire with some Tuning grass and a flint steel he had “borrowed” in a previous town. He then set his scythe over it and, cutting the fruit into four pieces, set it on the blade of the scythe to cook. He knew this scythe well and knew it would not bend or warp or be at all affected by being used as a pan. It didn’t even pick up soot on the bottom but retained its shiny nature. The spiritual flesh of the fruit crackled and spat over the fire. In a moment of thought Samael rubbed the sigil on his throat and sighed, glancing slightly toward where one of the Seals was.
Macht jumped to his feet as soon as he awoke. He leaned back on his shoulders and then pushing against the ground leapt to his feet. He loved every minute of being in Chaos, the constant threat of being attack by demons made him constantly giddy. It was all he could do to keep up his normal thoughtful demeanor.
The purple sky glimmered with power and he absorbed it into himself. He looked around him at his cohorts… his squad of fellow travelers fighting across the face of Chaos to find a way to resurrect the world. There was Seraf, the first to join his group, and a man perpetually welling a suit from the previous world and having a formal and orderly grace about him. He always seemed focus on the betterment of humanity in ways that Macht never understood. To Macht, if humanity got better it was just a side effect of having a good time! Battles and war. That’s what this world was about.
Then there was Babs, a pretty girl who had joined not to long ago but he got the feeling didn’t particular care for him. She seemed to gravitate more towards Seraf, which he frankly wasn’t to surprised about. Seraf was a good man and he happened to be bit too…free-spirited with violence for most people’s taste but that just made his job easier as far as he was concerned. After all, he had to look at this logically.
Finally, there was Sikander, a strange name for a strange person. He had Egyptian looking features and deep black skin that was reminiscent of statuettes that before the Dissension had been stored in museums. Hadn’t they been made of jet? Or was it merely a dark marble? It wasn’t important. What was important was that the man was quite capable and had been an asset in a few tight spots even if Macht wasn’t completely certain why he was here… something to do with an appreciation of his decisiveness.
It was a strange world but for now Macht focused on his hunger… he need too replenish his spiritual energy and so he walked toward a large lake. It stretched outward and it moaned as faces flitted, and gasped across its surface. It was a strange sight indeed but one Macht took without hesitation having seen many such strange sights since coming to Chaos. He bent down and drank straight from the water, feeling a deep coldness in his gut as the chilling sorrow of the water seeped into his veins. His head began to hurt a little as the illogic of the emotion flooded his system and he placed his hand on the mark on his forehead. Five degrees north thirty degrees west, two hundred miles off. He sighed… but he’d deal with that later. For now he had to get back to camp… he comrades would be waking soon.