>>C:\main_drive\Section_1: Events

[Geardirector]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Gang Fight

 

Dragging them across the street, he took the pair beyond the barricade before throwing one of them aside. "Here's a good one to start the interrogations. He's not out quite yet." The other, he took for himself, dragging him into the nearby building.

 

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

Zorvon didn't bat an eyelash upon seeing Romaln drag one of the gang members away into a building, he instead turned to the thug he'd handed them and nodded to a nearby officer.

 

"Wake him up"

 

OOC: Anyone's free to take that

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak shuffled his feet nervously. He wasn't the best interrogator; he usually just stood to the side and let the others do the work while he told the interrogators if the prisoner was lying. A Mask of Truth really helped in these situations. He waited to see who would take the offer, then assist as necessary.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

Naona shook his head. "That seemed unnecessarily rough."

 

Dropping into a crouch, the Toa of Stone gently tapped the semi-unconscious thug's mask.

 

"Rise and shine."

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zack noticed Naona attempting to rouse the gang member. "If you need a lie detector, I'm here", Zaak said quietly to the Po Toa. While waiting for the thug to wake, Zaak let his mind drift back towards Zorvon's words ant the end of the main fight. He sighed in resignation. He was probably going to have to help with paper work again, or maybe worse... cleaning the restrooms. The Toa shuddered at the very thought of it.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Thank you, Zaak. Your assistance is appreciated."

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

In contrast to the gentle tap Naona provided, Romaln took a more abrasive method by slapping his captive across the face. "Wake up, Agori." he said. "Today isn't the time for beauty sleeps."

 

The young tough quickly came to, before looking around violently; attempting, it seemed, to attain some control of the situation. Romaln grabbed him by the head, forcing the gangster to stare him in the eye, before asking, "Do you know who I am, criminal?"

 

No response - the fear in his eyes were enough. The Wolf was used to this - used to, and thankful for. He was no sadist; inflicting torture on someone, even a criminal, did not bring him any joy. Of course, being an Enforcer immediately brought that assumption from a number of people down below. Not less than a week ago, one of the locals had related to him the story of an Enforcer named Ngārara brutalizing a citizen for an otherwise petty crime; at least, by the Undercity's standards.

 

Those stories were the ones that put fear in peoples hearts. And whether he liked it or not, it made his job a lot easier. Most of the time - this boy was shuddering out of fear for his life right now. Great Beings forbid he actually took his Scepter out!

 

"I'll take that in the affirmative. Now, I have a few questions for you. Silence will not suffice for an answer on these ones - tell me everything you know, or the pain will resume; believe me when I tell you, repeated sound attacks are not something you'll be glad to have been targeted by. Now, would you mind explaining to me why not a single member of your gang is wearing any distinguishing marks? Catch you at a bad time?"

 

"We're not in the gang. Not really." he said. "We're just the regular hired force. Keep the street cleared, hide the front while we smuggle out the goods. Not sure what, exactly."

 

Romaln thought on that for a moment, his eyes blazing. "There's only a few gangs in this city with that kind of money to throw around.... but I think I know which one. You're one of the watchers, aren't you?" Confronted with a dull look from the Agori, he added on, in a more aggressive tone, "You're a part of the Chains, aren't you?" That not being enough, he shook him violently, roaring out the words, "Aren't you?!"

The gangster broke free then, but didn't run; instead, he recoiled away, raising his arms as if to protect himself. Romaln simply came closer, prompting him to say, "Yes, yes... that's what they call us. That's the gang. But I don't actually do any of the work, I just guard the street! Please, don't kill me!"

 

"Of course you don't." Romaln replied coldly. "They don't trust people like you to do the 'real' work of their organization. You're just here to keep this place safe, while they saunter through the streets behind their black masks like they own the place. But even your small contribution is part of a larger scheme; a scheme that kidnaps more and more people every year."

 

No reply. Just a whimper.

 

"Who hired you?"

 

"One of the Catchers. He gave me the offer while I was trying to get drunk. Artahka's Alehouse, the place is called... one of the bars in the central area of the city. There were two others with him, and they ended up recruiting five of us before leaving."

 

"Have you seen him since?"

 

"Yes... same place. I see him there a lot."

 

Romaln thought on that. "What else do you know?"

 

"Nothing, I swear. I doubt they'll ever use this base again, so..."

 

The Wolf stood there in thought for a few moments. As he considered his options, the fear in the Agori's eyes grew ever greater, as he, too, considered his own.

 

OOC: I'd assume your new friend would know about the same, Hubert.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited May 31, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic

The Toa of Iron stood near the doorway listening.

 

So it's the Chains. This is more serious than I thought.

 

This was more than a turf war. This could have been a bid to kidnap more slaves.

 

Horic continued to listen.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"As if I'm going to tell you stupid cops any-"

 

Naona clamped his hand over his prisoner's face, silencing the rebellious insults that were being spewed. Slowly moving his hand away, the Toa of Stone inspected the stone shackles he had made to hold the gangster to the ground. They would most likely withstand a large amount of force. Good. That meant well for his plans.

 

He got off the ground and walked over to his motorcycle. Opening up a compartment, Naona pulled out a length of rope, tying one end to his vehicle before returning to Zaak and the prisoner, eyes scanning the gangster's body until they reached the man's feet.

 

"Wh-what are you going to do?" asked the gangster, suddenly fearful.

 

"Oh, I am simply going to tie you to my motorcycle and drive off," remarked the Toa of Stone matter-of-factly. "Nothing too complicated."

 

The gangster's face paled. "Y-y-you're jokin' right? You're a cop, you ain't going to."

 

Plamfp.

 

Secured around the prisoner's two feet was the end of the rope.

 

"Oh no .. oooh please don-"

 

Naona stood up.

 

"Okay okay! I work for the Chains! They hired me at this place called Artakha's Alehouse! Please don't do this to me please!"

 

Silence.

 

Naona dropped down into a crouch again, and began untying his prisoner's feet.

 

"Confirm if he's telling the truth," said the policeman, looking at Zaak.

[Wade.]

IC: Volin

 

Gang wars weren't uncommon in the Undercity. In fact, several of them happened on a daily basis and by now, they were accepted as a normal part of everyday life. Karz, Volin had even participated in his fair share of battles, probably fighting for the wrong side, but that didn't matter anymore. It was all in the past.

 

What really mattered is that he'd just been caught in the middle of one. There he was, walking to work, when all of a sudden a brilliant flash of yellow and orange shook the street, followed immediately by the screaming of fleeing civilians and the gunfire of two gangs rapidly flowing into the area. Bullets whizzed through the air, turning any open space into a hot zone for death, so Volin took the most logical course of action: take cover.

 

He swore while he ran, though no one could hear him nor see him, as he'd activated his Volitak and moved as a silent, invisible blur towards the nearest alley. Upon reaching it, he peered over the corner, examining the situation. The two gangs had taken residence on both sides of the street, shacking up in buildings and hiding behind cars in an attempt to find any cover. No sooner did he hear the all too familiar cop sirens, illuminating the darkness with their red and blue lights.

 

As if things weren't already bad enough.

 

The alley he hid in was a dead end, and hiding until everything was over wasn't an option now that the police were here. He'd have to escape somehow, and that meant getting right into the heat of the battle before he could leave it.

 

"This is bull."

 

---

 

Swinging the door open, a few mechanics looked over to see who'd just walked in and just as soon did their eyes widen. Volin, clutching his side, dripped a bit of blood on the ground from a small bullet wound but it looked worse than it really was. Just a graze bandages and disinfectant could easily fix.

 

"Late for work, Volin?" someone piped up from the back, a tall, broad-chested Skakdi with slabs of muscle for arms.

 

"You know how things are around here, boss." he grinned.

 

"That I do." he said, returning the smile. "Now patch yourself up and get to work."

 

"Will do, boss."

 

And so he did.

Edited May 31, 2014 by TX Wade

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak felt the telltale tingle in his mask of a truth being told. His mask would have buzzed uncomfortably with a lie.

 

"He is telling the truth." Zaak stated.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Yea, something like that ," Bolt said as he came skidding to a stop right in-front of Kratt, looking like the impatient motherer he was, "Do you got my money, or are you just gonna stand there like a dick who don't know what he's done with digits?"

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Complicated," said Naona. "The Chains are .."

 

Evil creatures who deserve to face justice.

 

"... Quite dangerous."

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

A few more muffled sounds. Horic, or any others listening, wouldn't be able to decipher anything other than a short and abrupt scream at the very end, shortly followed by dragging. Romaln exited the building and threw the Agori to the ground, just as Naona finished with his own interrogation.

 

"Quite dangerous doesn't cover it." he said. "But this group here, they aren't even the ones we have to worry about. The ones who hired them - those ones are the true problem."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"What do you know of them?"

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

"Much of what we have on them is under high-level Enforcer classification, but that's only what we have in the Lock. I've learned more during my time down here; things which are not under such protection."

 

"It's no big surprise if you don't have much on them - I estimate much of your force has been paid off by them. They're a bunch of slavers led by a Skrall, which should tell you everything you need to know. They have a pretty strong grasp of things in the Undercity, but it's the wealth they draw in from up above that keeps them strong, and not the sheer numbers - they generally just use hired thugs like these. The others, the Catchers, are the threat. Unlike most gangsters, they have no need to flee when meeting us on the streets; not as long as they have the numbers, anyways."

 

"Still, this gives an opportunity. Knowing where they'll be provides the opportunity to surprise them. Interrogate them. Find out where their base is... and actually bring them to justice."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[sunflower]

IC: Horic

The Toa of Iron stood near the doorway listening.

 

So it's the Chains. This is more serious than I thought.

 

This was more than a turf war. This could have been a bid to kidnap more slaves.

 

Horic continued to listen.

 

IC:

 

The Toa of Iron known as Horic was a tough, strong man, not one easily phased nor surprised. And he had to be, living in this city, especially as one of leaders of the many gangs spread out across the lower levels. He knew how to watch his back, and even in his slightly advanced age, his senses were always sharp. This, combined with the mind veteran of a countless number of battles, made for a potent combination.

 

Though that scarcely prepared him for what happened as the burnt-orange Toa leaned against a darkened doorway to listen intently to the proceedings. Horic suddenly found that there was no doorway to lean on, in fact, there was nothing at all. Without a sound, he simply fell through the world as if waking from a dream, the shadows engulfing his body completely. Of course, if the fact that the laws of physics suddenly decided to turn off wasn't strange enough, the fact that he actually fell through the doorway, and onto something was.

 

The ground on which he now lay was cold, and hard, like some vast sheet of glass stretching out as far as he could see. Which wasn't far at all, considering the fact that the world around was completely dark. Not dark in the sense of a closed room, but dark as if the shadows themselves were devouring everything else in existence.

 

Completely dark.

 

Besides, perhaps, the triage of glowing eyes staring out at him from an indeterminable distance.

 

 

OOC:

 

Step 1, complete.

 

Stay tuned for more, folks, this is just the beginning. :3

[NorikSigma]

IC: Horic-[somewhere Dark]

One moment Horic aas listening to information that would help track down the Chains. Next,

"######!" Horic fell inwards and...

Downwards?

 

It was dark.

He didn't know how he got here.

The floor was cold.

 

Horic instinctively pushed himself up and drew his Battleaxe.

 

In every direction, nothing.

Nothing but eyes in front for him.

 

This... This can't be one of the demons, right?

 

######.

Edited June 1, 2014 by Just Norik

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Seldron / The Undercity / Chained Keep

 

In the darkest, southern sections of the Undercity, bright lights shone from the stained-glass window panes of the Chained Keep, base of operations to the Chains of Roxtus. These lights were accompanied by loud noises - noises which were rarely heard in the Undercity. The noises of a party, not unlike those in the City above, yet with the rowdiness and lack of inhibitions held by drunken brawls.

 

Within the Great Hall of the Keep, a good two dozen people were assembled. Informants, Catchers, and Dealers from the gang, enjoying a night of the high-life before heading back out - save for a good majority of them, who were missing. The garments here were peculiar - it was impossible to mistake them as being anything but Undercity "fashion", but the people were garbed in the fine silks and expensive jewelry from on high. While it would be impossible to mistake them for those Above, it would also be impossible to classify them as proper members of civilization.

 

In the center of the room, a black-Hau wearing Ta-Toa suddenly took a massive swig from a bottle of fine wine, before suddenly sweeping his head into a marvelous display of flames erupting from his maw, earning a few claps from the some of the less sober members. Others gave a look of great displeasure, wiping off the singe marks from where the flames went too far.

 

Of course, the center of the party was not the Toa or his fellows, but the Skrall who sat on an elevated throne at the far end of the room, a small circle of Dealers sitting around him and discussing business.

 

"We were able to make a good 21,500 widgets off of that Ta-Jack the Twins caught last week." said one of them, a young looking Agori woman clad in some of the most extravagant robes of the whole party. "I'm still amazed they were able to capture a Toa so easily. If they keep this up, they'll have the new record."

 

"Unlikely." another replied, giving a wave of his hand as he downed another drink. "Now that Knife-Eye is out of the hospital, he's bound to bring his numbers back up quickly. If you'll recall, he accomplished the same while alone."

 

"Yes, if you consider a fortune wasted in anesthetics to be alone, he's done quite well." she replied, not even attempting to veil her sarcasm. "Those two bring in as many as any three others, and without wasting any of our extra reserves. Face it, your Catcher is getting old, just like you."

 

"Methods aren't what concerns me." Seldron interrupted, preventing the other from speaking. "Not even expenditures. It's profits. For now, that's still Knife-Eye. If it ever stops being him, he knows the consequences."

 

As with any business, the Chains worked via pay. For the common thugs they hired, it was simply a payment in the form of doing the job. For the Catchers, they had two opportunities; the first being their pay for bringing in slaves, the second being a monthly posting based on whoever could bring in the most. The Twins, a pair of Skakdi, had pooled their efforts together, and with their steady flow were rapidly making waves. Old Knife-Eye, another of the spine-backs, was struggling hard to keep above the two. It worked out well for Seldron - Knife-Eye was working harder than ever to stay in the lead, and the Twins continued pushing in order to get above him. The constant struggle meant profit for them, but more importantly, profit for himself.

 

"Before we continue, what news do you have from the Stars Above?" he asked the Agori.

 

"Little, I'm afraid." Seldron noted she had yet to touch her glass; a common thing among the Dealers from up top, who frequently had to worry about poisons, hitmen, and anything else that the aristocracy might employ to take revenge for a poor deal. Or, on occasion, others Dealers who wished to get involved in the more lucrative jobs on the topside. "Things are going as normal. Save for all that talk of Demons. Folks are also complaining about difficulty down here, though they hardly know the half of it. The wealthy are simply insufferable."

 

It was difficult for the Skrall to suppress a chuckle. While they had nothing compared to those above, every person in this room was a king here in the Undercity; they were the foxes who ruled this hen-house of a city, on occasion snagging one of its fowl citizens and dragging them into the Starlight beyond. It was thoughts like this that amazed him - once, he was a simple slave, just like those he captured. Through blood and steel, he had claimed himself freedom; such a thing was, however, unlikely for most of these. There was a whole world outside of the arena he had fought him; what was there for these slaves to go to?

 

As he drowned out his fellows, he privately wondered what had become of the World Beyond; his musings were then interrupted as the door to the Hall swung open, and a portly looking Glatorian came rushing in, sweat pouring from his helm-wearing brow as he approached Seldron's throne. One of the Dealers - though not one invited to this particular party. He was the manager of one of their fronts, and by all rights, should be there.

 

Unless something had happened.

"Boss, we have a problem." he wheezed, panting heavily. "It's Intersection AA-37-B... the Darkblades.... the Police.... the Wolf..."

 

Seldron listened carefully. He was a clever man (that cleverness being why he was sitting on the throne, and not one of the others in this room), and those words alone told him much of what he needed to know. "Have we been found out?" he asked.

 

"Not... as far as I know." A deep breath, and a sigh. The man was calming himself down. "I ran away early on, and none of the Catchers were present. Any records I couldn't grab were tossed into the burner. Still... the police didn't seem happy. Or the Darkblades."

 

"Hmm. Quite possibly a dangerous situation..."

 

He thought on that a moment, before saying, "Grab one of the Catchers and send them out. We'll want as many as we can recalled to the base, at least for a few weeks while the situation dies down. This isn't the time to be risking anything."

 

The Dealer nodded, and Seldron returned to the small group before him. "I would apologize for the inconvenience, but you know very well this hurts me far more than any of you. Still, with luck, the temporary drop in supply will raise demand when we put our next wave on the market."

 

There were some glances given, but none said anything. Here, in the Chained Keep, Seldron's word was law; a law with far more authority than any that the police tried to enforce. And while nobody wanted to stay locked up here for a few weeks while there was work to be done, there was at least some advantage to be given - the party would go on.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona [undercity: Intersection AA-37-B]

 

"Sound plan, but we must be careful."

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"It is" Zorvon replied with a nod.

 

"Naona, remember that squad I asked you to assemble earlier, do that now, and go with Romaln. I have few things of my own to take care of"

 

He turened to Romaln.

 

"Can I trust you to take responsibility for my men?"

Edited June 1, 2014 by Gyro Gearloose

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Understood."

 

Naona rose to his feet.

 

"Zaak, with me," he said, before looking over a few of his fellow colleagues, pointing towards a Toa of Iron and a Vortixx. "You two as well."

 

"Somebody go get Vyns, and we'll be off."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "How do you want to die?" I asked casually, then slammed my foot on the floor as though I was trying to pulverize a rock, silencing my quarry before he could turn his thoughts into words. "SHUT UP!" I had what I wanted.

I didn't need him to say a ###### thing. All I needed was for him to have a sliver of an idea pass through his mind that I could capture as though holding a sieve. I needed a hopeful thought—the one that he instinctively brought to bear in the heat of the moment—the most pure thing he could surrender for me to take and twist in my own image. My guy here wanted a clean death: A bullet to the head. I grinned in satisfaction and grunted though my nose, "Hn.

"Your gun," I demanded to one of my bodyguards and held my hand out expectantly.

...

[One minute earlier]

It's good being queen. Technically, according to the laws of the city, we don't have royalty—so I'm not really a queen—but the laws haven't touched my class of people for decades. The last real law enforcement that came a-knockin' at my door got themselves demoted to ###### as soon as they turned their backs on me, and then met hilarious deaths one by one in the following week. Generally speaking anyone could call themselves royalty in this city and nobody would care. Besides, as for me, I live up to my title.

I rule efficiently and with cunning; I bribe officials to have my way, either with cash or 'favours.' I have a realm; my tower is completely mine and it stretches all the way from the sub-sub-basements in the deep foundations to my penthouse in the clouds. I have my subjects; every single person living in my tower is sword to me and both lives and dies at my command. Loyal subjects get to keep their perks (their heads among them) while the rest get exiled, which means expulsion to the underworld's unseen brutalities. Nobody wants that. Besides, it's good living in my realm as long as you don't mind the inherent risk of dying if you don't please me.

Which brings us to the supplicant at my feet now who'd just told me the latest innovation from the hot labs wasn't working how it should have. "Then what's the effect?" I asked, still reclining on the patio chair in my garden, two coins of a vegetable on my eyelids.

"It's bizarre, Your Majesty. Despite quadrupling the dose of axihedremintrieoxycohedron in the drug the illusions are only half as good as with Red Vision. The economists are saying this new drug would barely get a third the asking price of RV, which would get a net gain of only 8% profit."

"Did I ask what the economists say?" I sneered. "Nope! Don't tell me ###### I don't want to hear—it only works the other direction." The kid mumbled a "Yes, Your Majesty," in reply with all his heart in it. He knew I could feel his emotions. They were cincere.

"And what, pray-tell, are the people in the labs doing to fix this problem?" There was no way I was going to bother trying to put that garbage in the market. It needed to be on par with or better than Red Vision, else it was not even worth putting into syringe bullets and shooting people with it. It had to be worthwhile.

"Ma'am... nothing. In fact, the scientists recommend scrapping the project. After all the work put into it there's little htey can do to mend it to your specs without starting fresh."

"Caedast, " I said to my adviser and best friend, who stood by my side in almost all a affairs, "tell the scientists they're fired and exile them. As for you..." I rose up and let the organic coins fall on my breasts and then to the floor, "you're new, aren't you? Haven't seen me before?"

"Y-yes, ma'am, new to the job. And, no, ma'am," the guy whimpered. He wanted to back away from my glare but found himself incapable to even turn away.

"Then you don't know just how much I loathe bad news. For being a new guy you get one free pass," I congratulated him. I could feel his heartlight relax a little. Oh, how I enjoyed ripping optimism from people like a piece of candy. "I'm sorry, but you slipped up twice in our conversation. Your free pass won't save you. Sorry? Mm, nahhh, not sorry." I got up from my chair and a slave quickly began pampering me with a towel, flossing the residual lotion out from between my gears and joints and let the sod see me in full glory before my dainty form turned maliciously towards him. This time I allowed him to balk away with every step I took. He shuddered in fear, never once having thought he would find himself in the position he was in then. No, it was always his co-workers who got slaughtered and exiled, never him; he felt invincible as people around him died and he lived on, filling positions left vacant by those recently demised. Well, welcome to the penthouse, buster, it's as high as you will ever get.

 

"How do you want to die?"

...

My twitching fingers accepted the firearm readily and curled around the trigger instantly. "Kneel." My command shook his soul and he had no choice but to comply and instantly fell to his knees so hard I could almost hear the caps shatter. Still, as i raised the weapon to his forehead I felt him feel a glimmer of appreciation for where the muzzle was pointed, almost like he was grateful I was at least complying with his wish.

 

Hahaha, yeah, no. I stepped from his twelve o'clock to his nine and shot his jaw clean off, turned to dust. Blood gushed out from the fresh gap like wine from a fountain and he tried to scream, but the psionic cries I felt him shout were louder than the pitiful and primordial prolonged grunt he howled in actuality. The muzzle lowered slightly and flared again, this time lodging a bullet in his abdomen, screwing through his guts and causing them to leak their acid in his torso. The pain he felt was real. I fed on it, breathed it in as thought it were a vapour, and sighed in glee. This was worth ten times my regular dose of drugs—this is what I loved most about being queen. There's nothing I find more gratifying than feeling my victim taste a glimmer of hope before seeing his wish turn into a worst nightmare. But I wasn't finished yet.

 

I fired six more times, each shot burrowing a new bullet in his body where the agony could only spread—the knees, one lung, the collarbone, the ankles—and then there was one bullet left, a fact I stated plainly as I lowered myself to his level. His eyes were wider than saucers, expanded by fear, anger, pain and anguish. I giggled at him struggling and laughed off his mental chanting for death.

 

"You want death?" I taunted. "Then have it. But there's one catch: You can have one death and only one: Yours... or mine. Choose wisely." I pressed the gun into the one hand of his that still functioned like it was supposed to and wrapped his digits about the grip.

 

One bullet, either to end his suffering or my reign. Just how selfish are you after all, ######? He trembled as he raised the weapon between our faces (or, my face and what was left of his) as he was struggling with the process.

 

You hate me, I whispered into his mind like a demonic notification to murder his pet fish, but not half as much as you hate yourself for letting yourself get here. There's only one rational choice here, kid. One. Choice. Sorry if you wanted the other treat. His hatred was delicious, and the more he struggled with my tinkering in his head the wider my grin grew and the more he hated me. But there was no way for his conscious to win.

 

His brains turned my carnations into crimson roses.

 

I got up without waiting and waited on a servant to come up and wipe away the one drop of blood that found its way to my armor. "And Caedast,~" I said to my Makuta, who hadn't left yet, "ready my elevator. I want to welcome those ######s to the Undercity when they get there."

 

It was time for another hunting trip.

Edited June 1, 2014 by Crown Princess Yumiwa

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

Zaak sighed to himself.

 

"Sorry Naona. Chief asked to see me in his office, so unless he lets me go, you may have to find another person." While Zaak waited for the Po Toa's answer, he glanced over at Zorvon to see what the police captain would say.

[Geardirector]

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"Consider this your chance to make up for it"

 

Zorvon was strict, but he was not unreasonable, employing Zaak to chase the scouts of a dangerous gang was a far more effective use of time and resources than to yell at him from behind a desk.

 

"Just use your head from now on"

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

"They should be relatively safe; at least for the situation. Our friend here only mentioned three of the Catchers, which should give the advantage of numbers... though these are dangerous enemies. It would be a fools notion for me to guarantee everyone leaving as they came in."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

Edited June 1, 2014 by Toa Levacius Zehvor

[sonyaxe]

IC: Zaak

 

"I will from now on. Thank you." Zaak turned back to Naona. "Looks like you've got yourself a Toa of Plasma."

[Simulacrum]

IC: Volin

 

Swinging the door open, a few mechanics looked over to see who'd just walked in and just as soon did their eyes widen. Volin, clutching his side, dripped a bit of blood on the ground from a small bullet wound but it looked worse than it really was. Just a graze bandages and disinfectant could easily fix.

 

"Late for work, Volin?" someone piped up from the back, a tall, broad-chested Skakdi with slabs of muscle for arms.

 

"You know how things are around here, boss." he grinned.

 

"That I do." he said, returning the smile. "Now patch yourself up and get to work."

 

"Will do, boss."

 

And so he did.

 

IC (Staff):

 

As Volin attempted to staunch his wound's bloodflow with the unfazed movements of a man used to pain, he felt inexplicably disquieted. The air around him suddenly seemed too still, unusually clean, causing him to pause momentarily to inspect his surroundings. As he moved his head, all of the concrete and metal around him melted into wet paint, dripping off of the canvas of a heedless artist. Vilon attempted to reach out and steady himself, but as his hand brushed against the liquifying table before him, existence ended with the abruptness of an executioner's swing.

Volin's senses returned to reveal nothing but darkness. He took a single tenative step forward, trying to balance despite a lack of direction, and the void that functioned as his current enviornment roared into life. The featureless darkness shook vaguely in a series of bizarre and nauseating undulations and issued out a cacophony of screams and roars, only ceasing when a singular rhombus of crimson emerged from the surrounding desolation, a glorious incandescence of nebulous proportions.

Edited June 2, 2014 by Kilgore Trout

[Wade.]

IC: Volin

 

In the blink of an eye, Volin had been submerged into complete darkness. Only moments ago did he occupy a world of substance, a world of metal, cars and ugly men with wrenches, now to be replaced by an infinite void whose vast emptiness swept over him like a tsunami. Panic was the first thing he felt. It was immediately succeeded by an unrelenting stream of other emotions all at once, such as fear, confusion, despair. He even felt claustrophobic, suffocated by this limitless space that cocooned every inch of him.

 

The suddenness of it all hit him hard, making it difficult to think. He might as well have receded to a more primitive, thoughtless existence where he could rely on only his senses to guide him. He began walking, not quite sure what else he could do, and every step seemed to cause the seamless darkness to ripple and fluctuate, yet how could that be, there was nothing there.

 

But there was.

 

Volin's blank surroundings roared to life, its screams of terror shocking him into stillness and though he closed his eyes, nothing had changed. When he opened them again, a nebula of crimson stood before him. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, a red-hot light which exceeded the Undercity's neon glow by immeasurable proportions or anything else his imagination could create. It was like a world in itself.

 

What was he looking at?

 

He knew he shouldn't, but with an outstretched arm, Volin attempted to touch it.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Good. You will be useful."

[Geardirector]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

"They should be relatively safe; at least for the situation. Our friend here only mentioned three of the Catchers, which should give the advantage of numbers... though these are dangerous enemies. It would be a fools notion for me to guarantee everyone leaving as they came in."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

 

IC: Zorvon (Intersection AA-37-B)

 

"About our usual odds then" Zorvon deadpanned as he walked off with the remaining officers, their job here was done.

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Still," said Naona finally. "I will not let anybody die."

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

"Against these enemies, death should be the least of our concerns." he replied, before walking off. "The alehouse is this way."

 

What kind of name was 'alehouse?'

 

IC: Vailarin / The Undercity / Artahka's Alehouse

 

"So what kind of name is 'alehouse'?"

 

The bartender grunted at her. "It's a house. We serve ale. People like alliteration. Buy something or get lost."

 

The singer gave a frown. If there was one problem with this place, besides the fact it looked like it was falling apart, it was the bartender. The Toa who used to run it had vanished about three days ago, after a dispute with one of the cloaked fellows that had started to frequent the place, and this new guy had quickly established himself as an oaf. Unfortunately, it was also where most of her regulars could be found...

 

There was no point in arguing with him, of course. With a sigh, she said, "Fine... hold up..." before reaching into her bag and pulling out a quarter-widget, sliding it across the table. "One cup of '597."

 

"Don't know where you think you are you can get that for so cheap," he replied. That was her usual price, from before

 

"Look, let's clear this up," she said, shifting her position and tone to try a more intimidating posture. "Do you realize how many of your patrons are still coming to this Kinloka-hole of an 'alehouse' solely for the entertainment? Case in point- me. Listen to the people talking. Nobody comes up to the bar anymore, and less still want to deal with that cloaked group that keeps showing up. Get what I'm saying?"

 

At first, she thought it had worked - that vacant look in his eyes seemed partially afraid... but he was looking past her. "Price is two widgets." he said, before walking off, causing her to make a rather vocal grown and turn around in her seat...

 

... to see the three cloaked figures walking it. With no drink to abandon, she quickly got up and made her way rapidly to the back door of the establishment, and out into the alley behind the alehouse. Not much to see out here other than trash, drunks, beggars, and a streetwalker... but as she quickly closed the door and walked off, she didn't look back.

 

Better the alley than with whoever they were.

 

OOC: Just setting the stage for the location.

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Lead on, Enforcer," said Naona as he followed, gesturing for his group of officers to do the same.

[sunflower]

IC: Horic-[somewhere Dark]

One moment Horic aas listening to information that would help track down the Chains. Next,

"######!" Horic fell inwards and...

Downwards?

 

It was dark.

He didn't know how he got here.

The floor was cold.

 

Horic instinctively pushed himself up and drew his Battleaxe.

 

In every direction, nothing.

Nothing but eyes in front for him.

 

This... This can't be one of the demons, right?

 

######.

 

Saffie IC:

 

With a suddenness that broke the air of quiet threat that permeated the unseen surroundings, the three glowing eyes, for they certainly could not be anything else, blinked out of existence for a split second. Before they flared to life once again, at a distance that seemed undeniably closer. Though with velvety darkness that engulfed the world around, it was impossible to tell whether the glowing orbs were a kio away, or directly in front from him.

 

With an urge that was not his own, Horic suddenly felt compelled to reach out towards the triage of lights, as if his body had taken on a mind of it's own, free from the constraints of his own control.

 

It was only after his hand started to move against his will did he feel the presence worm it's way into his mind, like a drop of water flowing through the cracks in his consciousness, slipping past his defenses and remaining nigh-unnoticeable. His hand continued to move upward towards the glowing objects on it's own accord, being pulled forward by invisible strings.

 

And then it came into contact with something, and the presence within disappeared suddenly. Before he had a chance to contemplate exactly what was had happened, the presence forced itself into his mind again, a hammerblow that starkly contrasted its hidden movements before. It was agonizing, and yet it was not, he was held in place by the attack, unable to move. It was enough to break a lesser man. It brushed aside his identity with seemingly little effort, mentally shifting through his very being.

 

Before him, within the physical world, a shape slowly began to form from the three glimmering eyes.

[Highly Suspicious Person]

IC: Kratt

 

"Yeah, sure. Give me a moment, will you?" Kratt resisted the urge to empty the small moneybag onto the ground and handed it over to Bolt. "So, how about you? You were meant to bring that gangs money for me, weren't you? If they want my wares, they need to pay."

[graggen2468]

IC: Sai'kun

 

Sai'kun watched as three figures entered Artahka's Alehouse. Slavers. The scum of the universe. He remembered a time when such a practice was scrutinized by all, but now it was common. He really wanted to kill someone. Too much injustice had occurred in this city, and if the cops weren't willing to do it, then it was time to bring back good old-fashioned Toa justice. Except this time, there would be no restraints. Attaching a disk launcher to the empty mechanical socket of his artificial right arm, Sai'kun selected a disk with the numbers 425. Ko Metru disks that dodges obstacles to get to target. Freezes target. Power level six. Perfect. Sai'kun smiled and aimed his disk launcher at one of the figures that he could see through a window, waiting for them to start the fun.

[Toa Levacius Zehvor]

IC: Romaln / The Undercity / Intersection AA-37-B

 

Around the time Sai'kun began his targeting, Romaln finally made his way to the door of the Alehouse, the others behind. Something seemed different about the place from the last time he was here.... had they forgotten to sweep? And where was the old bouncer who used to stand outside?

 

Turning, he said, "I've never been one for stealth, but we need to be cautious. If one of the three gets away, it'll give the Chains the warning they need to mobilize... or flee."

 

He considered. "With all likelihood, they'll recognize me. Or all of us if we go in at the same time. Vortixx, go around and cover the back, another stay here at the door."

 

He pointed to the Toa of Iron, saying, "You, stay here in the front and block pursuit. Don't follow me in when the fighting starts."

 

"The rest of you get into position. Send a signal of some kind when its time to begin and I'll join you. Our aim should be to incapacitate before too much collateral is dealt."

 

-Toa Levacius Zehvor

[25K Now!]

IC: Naona

 

"Understood."

 

The officers began to fan out under Romaln's orders. Naona took position at the door.

[Simulacrum]

IC (Staff):

 

As Volin reached out to touch the luminous carmine, he found his hand grasping only darkness. All sense of scale was lost in the amorphous world that surrounded him; as he stared at the silhouette of his outstretched hand, revealing the rhombus to be apparently distant, and therefore massive, he felt the cold, gnawing presence of fear rise from his stomach. Before he could retract the extended hand, the surrounding shadows converged upon it, a legion of tentacular appendages composed of impossibly solid darkness.

Pain roared through the arm, a flame that burnt through his veins and nerves, purging any calmness that had previously remained. As he attempted to struggle against the unseen grasping hands, he found himself being pulled to the rhombus at alarming speeds, able to only watch in terror as the crimson grew exponentially in size. After what seemed millennia, he was deposited beneath the gaze of the monolithic entity, his pain vanishing with unnatural abruptness. As Volin attempted to retreat, the immense rhombus roared into life once more, glowing vividly as the shadowed wraiths grasped Volin once more. In place of the previous physical pain, a mental immanence filled him, an entity that observed and then dismantled his psyche, excruciatingly precise in its lustration.

 

As Volin was analyised, the rhombus's unseen entirety began to rise, order forming from utter, cosmic chaos; a crimson, amorphous God was invoking itself from the farthest reaches of oblivion.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Yea, I got their , pinprick," Bolt said bluntly, before tossing the satchel's contents to Kratt.