Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha Character Creation and Discussion (second reincarnation)

[Sheba]

I am of the no OC x CC pairing side. I felt we had bullied Aaron long enough with that pairing. And I think that Fate should die surrounded by her orphans and no husband, unless it is Yuuno. HAH!

[MeisterBabylon]

*waves YuunoFate flag as well*

Whoever said I was a 1-ship man? I'm a 1-ship-and-other-khrack-ships man.

[Nya~n]

No way, shebs. Fate dies alone, lonely, despairing, unloved and senile.

[Wild Goose]

That's after she kills Nanoha so that she can wear Nanoha's skin while rubbing herself erotically.

[MeisterBabylon]

Now that's what I call consistency!

[stormturmoil]

Just to prove I do still appear from time to time, another random incursion...

This time it's to deposit another of my Archaic pieces of Magitek TechnoArcana, this time: Armed Device CrossHatchet!



Yes, I know it's more along the lines of a Battleaxe by now, but it did start as a hatchet, and I can't resist terrible punny names...The Cross part comes because when I needed a piece for the Haft/head junction, Teana's Cross Mirage threw me a bone...

So, I know what you're thinking..."this thing's a mess!"

Yes, it is. The way I figure it is, that could be because of a few things:

1: It's old; maybe it can't be upgraded. Maybe it Has been upgraded as much as it can be. Maybe the owner won't let it be upgraded any further...which leads to:

2: The Owner is a Magitechnological Luddite who has no truck with overly flashy high tech. OK, Maybe Cross Hatchet doesn't have the polish, the sleekness or the slick surface shine of more modern Devices, but it works through hell and high water, and if it does break, it's easy to fix with relatively low tech parts and tools...which may be cause:

3: It was Built in a cave out of Scraps! Or more seriously, it uses a large number of non standard, non magical components not normally used in Devices, because the Owner is paranoid about spare parts and supplies and all that. It's also as a result pretty damned durable above and beyond normal Device standards. It Has a Cartridge system, Lever Action and purely mechanical, and that means it can use higher charge Cartridges without as much risk, such as the infamous 'Magnum Cookers' often used as a threat by the OFM

So, another year, another rebuild...

On the ohter hand, I'm still playing with this, so any suggestions for how to further greeble it up would be appreciated....
And yes, I know the exposed Fuse item, Fluid cylinder and Guages are potentially vulnerable, but they're what I could draw up. Idea to replace 'em with other greebles will be considered.

As for any specific inspirations:

The Way the Haft attaches is based on the Super Sledge from Fallout 3.

The Device Core bit on the Head is inspired visually by Cross Mirage's, but unlike Teana's Device, as hers isn't wired in like a 13 amp three pin plug with screw connectors, nor is hers bolted together!

The channels on the Blade are...I'm not sure I'm happy with them, but all my other attempts have come out worse... I can't extend them full as it then turns into a giant comb...

Similarly, I wanted the Lever Action Guard, but I haven't been able to get it better than this so far.

And yes, the grip's pretty far up the haft. (which admittedly has been extended over the original version). Also the head has got bigger. So I figure it's just a balance issue, especially since in most cases the leverage on the haft is not going to be the most significant factor in any cutting action...

And before any one says it, Yes, I KNOW Chrono's gonna Kill me for what I've done to S2U...

[agetreme]

I don't think Chrono will mind. He still has another staff anyway.


Since it is already in a mess, might as well as throw in a grenade launcher... you know, just in case there is an urge a need to blow something up real badly.

[Tempy]

Hmmm yeah.

Crosspost from FFT.

Spoiler for Sunrise:

Keroko was having a lovely time, sipping tea—a lovely masala chai—with The Mad Hatter and
a fellow in red known only as “Archer.” She was not entire sure what the conversation was about,
since it had been going on for quite some time and the chatter between the two males was rather
quick, but she was sure the topic was something about oranges, massage oil, and pipecleaners.
Before the mage could analyze the conversation any further, her associates turned to welcome a
new guest to the table.

It was a young girl, with straight black hair that ended around her shoulders, a thin build and large
eyes, and a perpetual smile that unnerved Keroko somewhat. She wore a simple blouse and long
skirt, and a long white sash with the words “New Years Fairy” draped over her chest. After
exchanging a few words with the others, she turned her attention to the redheaded mage.

“Ah! Greetings!” the girl held an arm out in salutation.

“Erm… Hi there,” Keroko slowly returned the salute. “Forgive my rudeness, but… Who are you?”

“I’m the New Year Fairy! Can’t ya see from my badge?” Despite it being called a badge, it was
most definitely not.

“Oookay,” the Ace nodded her head slowly. “So, what are you doing here?”

The girl turned her dark eyes onto the mage. Those deep, wide, empty eyes that seemed to go
on into forever, seeing beyond what could be seen and more than anyone could perceive; they
gazed soullessly at her, with that blank smile and glazed look… was she some sort of dream-
devouring monster? A baku?

Then she blinked.

“I’m here to wake you up! Behold!

“Hawk~!” In her left, hand, a small doll of a hawk.

“Eggplant~!” In her right hand, a purple eggplant.

“Awaken~!” Suddenly, from behind the girl, the magnificent form of Mount Fuji rose up and met
the morning sun’s rays.

Keroko’s eyes snapped open, her vision clearing to focus on the dim treeline off in the distance.
For a moment, she had absolutely no clue as to where she was or why she was outside, wearing
her winter coat and leaning against something. Slowly, the memories trickled back to her. Oh,
right. Everyone had came back to Earth for the winter holidays, and today was New Year’s
Eve… or was it New Year’s Day? Wait, it was the latter. They were sitting upon a quiet hill,
facing the darkened eastern sky in preparation to greet the sunrise. The night prior was spent
exploring the festivities of the temple the group had visited, and Keroko was pretty sure alcohol
was involved.

Her “pillow” shifted suddenly, causing her to pause in her thoughts. Looking up, she soon
discovered that she was in fact leaning rather heavily on a certain Belkan knight.

“Noland?” she murmured, reluctantly removing herself from the warm spot and rubbing the sleep
out of her eyes. “Hrmm, sorry about that. How long was I out?”

“Good morning, lady Keroko,” the knight greeted. “You were asleep for only a few hours. The
others had nodded off as well.”

He nodded his head towards several other clusters of people, members of their party that had all
succumbed to the nap bug in their quest to see the new year’s sun. Hayate was surrounded with
her beloved Wolkenritter; Vivio was comfortably warm, snuggled in between the snoozing bodies
of her unorthodox but very loving family; and the Harlaowns had come along as well, Lindy’s
emerald hair sticking out amidst her family’s huddle. Humorously, Noland’s other arm was
captured by the sleeping Vivio, an impromptu “teddy” for the child. This meant that the knight
was trapped between Keroko and Vivio, and not in a particularly ergonomic way.

“Are you comfortable at all like that?” Keroko glanced over the position.

“It is not so bad. At the very least, I am not cold,” he shrugged lightly. “However, it did make
napping a little more difficult.”

She blinked. “Wait, you were awake this entire time?!”

“Not the entire time, but I am afraid I was unable to rest as much as the rest of you.”

“You’re damn crazy, Noland.”

“Perhaps, but I had plenty of quiet time to think.”

Keroko grimaced, feeling a mild twinge of guilt at leaving the guy alone and uncomfortable. She
glanced at her watch, almost jumping out of her seat. “Oh man, it’s six. The sun is coming up in
less than an hour!”

Indeed, the sky was already a dim blue, the morning light gradually growing brighter and brighter.
There was enough light to see now, though the sun still had not risen over the horizon.

“Perhaps we should wake the others?”

“Yeah…”

Though initially irritated at being awoken, the others soon stirred from their rest and stretched as
they shook the sleep out from their systems. With his arm at last liberated, Noland joined the
others in stretching out his limbs. However, he soon returned to his original seat, with Keroko
standing in front of him.

“Not too much longer, now…” A chilly breeze brought a shiver down the girl’s spine, causing her
to huddle slightly for warmth. “Damn! Bloody wind is freezing! I wish I wore something a little
thicker… Hey, Noland, hold out your arms.”

“Like this?” He held out his arms as if he were going to hug someone.

“Perfect.”

She plopped herself into Noland’s lap, settling comfortably against the knight’s warm chest.
Noland was quick to pick up, wrapping his arms around the girl’s slender waist and bringing his
chin to rest upon her shoulder.

“This way, we are both warm and we can still watch the rising sun.”

“Indeed. I approve of this.”

They would suffer a bit of teasing because of this, but as time passed, their attentions were drawn
to the east. Soon, the much-awaited time had arrived.

“Oh! There it is! The sun’s rising!” a happy smile crossed Keroko’s face, feeling the subtle
warmth of the winter sun. Her smiled weakened, however, as she looked to her companion and
was reminded of his… condition. “You… can’t see it.”

Dammit, how could she keep forgetting?

Noland shook his head, giving Keroko a small smile. “It is of no consequence. Judging by the
excitement of our group, it must be a wonderful, awesome sight.”

The Ace was quiet for a moment.

“The… The sun’s just peeking over the horizon now, a brilliant golden orange orb surrounded by
an orange-red sky. Above it, a light blue that deepens into a navy color, the few clouds reflecting
the golden light…” Keroko tried to describe the sunrise as best she could, putting as much detail
as she could and leaving nothing out. Not only the sunrise, but the surroundings as well; the trees
of evergreen and the empty branches of deciduous, the twilight sky and the awakening birds,
even the glistening frost and pockets of remnant snow lining the earth, Keroko tried her best to
paint a picture of a moment in time.

With every word she spoke, she could feel the arms around her tighten and pull her closer.

“I can see it now, lady Keroko. I can see your wonderful sun, rising over the hill and banishing the
darkness, sharing its warmth the world and I. It is amazingly beautiful, a sight that cannot be
copied,” Noland hugged the girl close, whispering to her. “Thank you.”

A comfortable peace. A nice silence. They merely enjoyed the sights, the atmosphere, and each
other.

“Hey, Noland?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy New Years.”

The knight smiled. “Please take care of me this year.”

“Haha~”

Spoiler for Extra:

The train ride back to the city was quiet and uneventful, majority of the riders having all nodded
off once more. It would be a few hours more before they could reach their destination. Indeed,
many people were quite tired from the previous night, and the following morning’s events.
Fortunately, the train was not very crowded, allowing a good amount of elbow room to get
comfortable in.

A small bump in the train jarred Vivio Takamachi awake, pulling her from the blessed warmth of
her dreams. She rubbed her eyes, pushing up from the “bed” of her parents’ laps. But, even as
she returned to the land of the waking, she saw something even more… amazing.

Across from her was Big Sis Keroko, and next to her was Nolan. The knight had finally slipped
into the dreaming world, and in doing so, slumped over to the side. Now, his head was resting
comfortably upon Keroko’s lap, with the Ace gently cradling the knight’s head in her hands.
She seemed to notice Vivio, smiling as she raised a finger to her lips.

Let him rest. She seemed to say. And tell no one.

Looking back down at the sleeping man, Keroko brushed an errant strand of hair out of Noland’s
face.

Please take care of me this year too.

[Keroko]

Originally Posted by Tempest Dynasty

Hmmm yeah.

Crosspost from FFT.

Spoiler for Sunrise:

Keroko was having a lovely time, sipping tea—a lovely masala chai—with The Mad Hatter and
a fellow in red known only as “Archer.” She was not entire sure what the conversation was about,
since it had been going on for quite some time and the chatter between the two males was rather
quick, but she was sure the topic was something about oranges, massage oil, and pipecleaners.
Before the mage could analyze the conversation any further, her associates turned to welcome a
new guest to the table.

It was a young girl, with straight black hair that ended around her shoulders, a thin build and large
eyes, and a perpetual smile that unnerved Keroko somewhat. She wore a simple blouse and long
skirt, and a long white sash with the words “New Years Fairy” draped over her chest. After
exchanging a few words with the others, she turned her attention to the redheaded mage.

“Ah! Greetings!” the girl held an arm out in salutation.

“Erm… Hi there,” Keroko slowly returned the salute. “Forgive my rudeness, but… Who are you?”

“I’m the New Year Fairy! Can’t ya see from my badge?” Despite it being called a badge, it was
most definitely not.

“Oookay,” the Ace nodded her head slowly. “So, what are you doing here?”

The girl turned her dark eyes onto the mage. Those deep, wide, empty eyes that seemed to go
on into forever, seeing beyond what could be seen and more than anyone could perceive; they
gazed soullessly at her, with that blank smile and glazed look… was she some sort of dream-
devouring monster? A baku?

Then she blinked.

“I’m here to wake you up! Behold!

“Hawk~!” In her left, hand, a small doll of a hawk.

“Eggplant~!” In her right hand, a purple eggplant.

“Awaken~!” Suddenly, from behind the girl, the magnificent form of Mount Fuji rose up and met
the morning sun’s rays.

Keroko’s eyes snapped open, her vision clearing to focus on the dim treeline off in the distance.
For a moment, she had absolutely no clue as to where she was or why she was outside, wearing
her winter coat and leaning against something. Slowly, the memories trickled back to her. Oh,
right. Everyone had came back to Earth for the winter holidays, and today was New Year’s
Eve… or was it New Year’s Day? Wait, it was the latter. They were sitting upon a quiet hill,
facing the darkened eastern sky in preparation to greet the sunrise. The night prior was spent
exploring the festivities of the temple the group had visited, and Keroko was pretty sure alcohol
was involved.

Her “pillow” shifted suddenly, causing her to pause in her thoughts. Looking up, she soon
discovered that she was in fact leaning rather heavily on a certain Belkan knight.

“Noland?” she murmured, reluctantly removing herself from the warm spot and rubbing the sleep
out of her eyes. “Hrmm, sorry about that. How long was I out?”

“Good morning, lady Keroko,” the knight greeted. “You were asleep for only a few hours. The
others had nodded off as well.”

He nodded his head towards several other clusters of people, members of their party that had all
succumbed to the nap bug in their quest to see the new year’s sun. Hayate was surrounded with
her beloved Wolkenritter; Vivio was comfortably warm, snuggled in between the snoozing bodies
of her unorthodox but very loving family; and the Harlaowns had come along as well, Lindy’s
emerald hair sticking out amidst her family’s huddle. Humorously, Noland’s other arm was
captured by the sleeping Vivio, an impromptu “teddy” for the child. This meant that the knight
was trapped between Keroko and Vivio, and not in a particularly ergonomic way.

“Are you comfortable at all like that?” Keroko glanced over the position.

“It is not so bad. At the very least, I am not cold,” he shrugged lightly. “However, it did make
napping a little more difficult.”

She blinked. “Wait, you were awake this entire time?!”

“Not the entire time, but I am afraid I was unable to rest as much as the rest of you.”

“You’re damn crazy, Noland.”

“Perhaps, but I had plenty of quiet time to think.”

Keroko grimaced, feeling a mild twinge of guilt at leaving the guy alone and uncomfortable. She
glanced at her watch, almost jumping out of her seat. “Oh man, it’s six. The sun is coming up in
less than an hour!”

Indeed, the sky was already a dim blue, the morning light gradually growing brighter and brighter.
There was enough light to see now, though the sun still had not risen over the horizon.

“Perhaps we should wake the others?”

“Yeah…”

Though initially irritated at being awoken, the others soon stirred from their rest and stretched as
they shook the sleep out from their systems. With his arm at last liberated, Noland joined the
others in stretching out his limbs. However, he soon returned to his original seat, with Keroko
standing in front of him.

“Not too much longer, now…” A chilly breeze brought a shiver down the girl’s spine, causing her
to huddle slightly for warmth. “Damn! Bloody wind is freezing! I wish I wore something a little
thicker… Hey, Noland, hold out your arms.”

“Like this?” He held out his arms as if he were going to hug someone.

“Perfect.”

She plopped herself into Noland’s lap, settling comfortably against the knight’s warm chest.
Noland was quick to pick up, wrapping his arms around the girl’s slender waist and bringing his
chin to rest upon her shoulder.

“This way, we are both warm and we can still watch the rising sun.”

“Indeed. I approve of this.”

They would suffer a bit of teasing because of this, but as time passed, their attentions were drawn
to the east. Soon, the much-awaited time had arrived.

“Oh! There it is! The sun’s rising!” a happy smile crossed Keroko’s face, feeling the subtle
warmth of the winter sun. Her smiled weakened, however, as she looked to her companion and
was reminded of his… condition. “You… can’t see it.”

Dammit, how could she keep forgetting?

Noland shook his head, giving Keroko a small smile. “It is of no consequence. Judging by the
excitement of our group, it must be a wonderful, awesome sight.”

The Ace was quiet for a moment.

“The… The sun’s just peeking over the horizon now, a brilliant golden orange orb surrounded by
an orange-red sky. Above it, a light blue that deepens into a navy color, the few clouds reflecting
the golden light…” Keroko tried to describe the sunrise as best she could, putting as much detail
as she could and leaving nothing out. Not only the sunrise, but the surroundings as well; the trees
of evergreen and the empty branches of deciduous, the twilight sky and the awakening birds,
even the glistening frost and pockets of remnant snow lining the earth, Keroko tried her best to
paint a picture of a moment in time.

With every word she spoke, she could feel the arms around her tighten and pull her closer.

“I can see it now, lady Keroko. I can see your wonderful sun, rising over the hill and banishing the
darkness, sharing its warmth the world and I. It is amazingly beautiful, a sight that cannot be
copied,” Noland hugged the girl close, whispering to her. “Thank you.”

A comfortable peace. A nice silence. They merely enjoyed the sights, the atmosphere, and each
other.

“Hey, Noland?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy New Years.”

The knight smiled. “Please take care of me this year.”

“Haha~”

Spoiler for Extra:

The train ride back to the city was quiet and uneventful, majority of the riders having all nodded
off once more. It would be a few hours more before they could reach their destination. Indeed,
many people were quite tired from the previous night, and the following morning’s events.
Fortunately, the train was not very crowded, allowing a good amount of elbow room to get
comfortable in.

A small bump in the train jarred Vivio Takamachi awake, pulling her from the blessed warmth of
her dreams. She rubbed her eyes, pushing up from the “bed” of her parents’ laps. But, even as
she returned to the land of the waking, she saw something even more… amazing.

Across from her was Big Sis Keroko, and next to her was Nolan. The knight had finally slipped
into the dreaming world, and in doing so, slumped over to the side. Now, his head was resting
comfortably upon Keroko’s lap, with the Ace gently cradling the knight’s head in her hands.
She seemed to notice Vivio, smiling as she raised a finger to her lips.

Let him rest. She seemed to say. And tell no one.

Looking back down at the sleeping man, Keroko brushed an errant strand of hair out of Noland’s
face.

Please take care of me this year too.

I feel all warm and fuzzy inside now. :3

[LoweGear]

Alice in Wonderland FS/N version is very much And you see? Tempest writes the best sweetcheesium ever.

*flees*

Now for a trip down the time machine, with an old... infodump snippet of mine that's been sitting around for almost a year now unposted. Seems like a good time to show it before it gets blasted by the Ion Canon.

Spoiler for Codex Lyrica: First Part:

Music.

In its most basic description, it is simply an art which uses a variety of sounds arranged in an organized fashion. And yet throughout history few have evoked human passions in such a sublime, yet powerful manner. Knowledge fades, people die, treasures vanish, legacies forgotten, and empires fall; but even then, music still thrives and endures, irrespective of differences in intellect, culture, race, religion, or creed, unbound by time or space.

Even in the realm of science, reality itself is described within the language of song – the very fabric of the universe created through the great orchestra of intertwining energy, played by an ensemble of cosmic strings that determines the fate of everything in existence. If mathematics is the universal language, then music is the language of the universe. And its vocabulary speaks of the destinies of all things that transcend even universes.

For the layman though, music is nothing so grandiose: Whether it’s a soulful serenade of one’s love found or lost, or the energetic beat that sends the blood rushing to the mood for dancing, or just the generic industry driven pop that one leaves playing on the background from his radio. It could be as complex as a grand symphony of hundreds of musicians, or as simple as whistling a happy tune. We take it all for granted, but for many of us, a life without music would be unimaginable.

****

“Heh.”

As unbelieving as her sigh may sound like, she was in no position to critique the veracity of the words she was reading. After all, these were her own words, transcribed by her own fingers.

Her eyes went through the entire transcript, with a gradually growing ambivalence: On the one hand, her professional mind could not accept such an emotional introduction to this project; this was a paper after all, and not a simple writing exercise where she could pour her heart out. Her right hand was hovering steady over a button labeled “backspace”, ready to delete the text at any moment.

On the other hand, there was nothing she could find wrong with the words she just wrote. Despite what anyone said about her preferences, these were words that perfectly described how she felt about the matter. It wasn’t the most concise and professional of texts, but there was nothing else she felt she could write that could describe her feelings better.

“I am music… and I write the songs.”

Words from an old song she was most fond of, whispered with much care.

Her right hand joined her left back to the rows and columns of letters in front of her. There was much more to be written…

****

Of course, Magic is no exception from the power of music. And when music is applied by the field of contemporary magic, a most wonderful combination is achieved, taking an already powerful existence into a whole new level of beauty. A fusion we know today as Lyrical Magic.

Once thought to be lost, Lyrical Magic has resurfaced in recent times as their once secretive practitioners reveal themselves to the world, spreading their sacred beliefs and teachings with the worlds. And with big music scene idols like Nikki “Blazing Bombardier” Vasra and the hit sensation Sonic Divers exposed as disciples of this art, more than ever questions are being asked, and rumors, myths and misconceptions arise due to lack of knowledge in this field.

This article will cover the more notable aspects of Lyrical Magic, from its history to its people, and how it works. It is the aim of this article to shed some light on some of the mysteries surrounding Lyrical Magic in a manner that can be understood by the casual reader, and the more interested researcher. But most importantly, it is my wish to give people insight and understanding into the underlying concepts that define this elegant art, and in doing so gain an appreciation for not only the magic behind this musical art but also the music, the people, and the principle behind the magic.

Because as the Lyrical mage’s creed states with much conviction, “Music is Magic”.

****

“Let’s get started then.”

Kaylin stretched and cracked her hands together above the floating holographic keyboard, then resumed her work.

****

I. Lyrical Magic: The Basics

What is Lyrical Magic?

In its original usage, the term Lyrical Magic refers to the application of magic to enhance one’s musical performance. And the magic referred to here is the type most commonly known as Mana Dynamics – the study and technology of the ethereal extra-dimensional energies used to conjure up countless unfathomable effects and create our most advanced machines, from the trans-dimensional relay gates that link worlds, to grand inter-dimensional starships. A Lyrical mage uses this incredible power to bolster, control and augment their performances, whether in vocal singing, instrument playing, and even props and visual effects.

What differentiates Lyrical Magic from traditional music is in the sheer variety of options available to its practitioners due to magic’s inherently portable and malleable form, giving them limitless possibilities on improving their music, limited only by their skill, creativity and imagination. Where a traditional performer might need a special location like a theater with an extensive setup to sound good, the Lyrical mage can do the same using only their magic spells, allowing them to perform at their best no matter the time, the place or the weather. While the use of magic to enhance music may sound like a dubious practice, in essence Lyrical Magic is no different than today’s musicians and artists using artificial implements like stage lights and synthesizers to improve their performances, only in this case using mana-based skill instead of electric equipment.

Like all magic, Lyrical Magic is by itself only a tool to assist its user, and thus its effectiveness is gauged by the skill and abilities of its practitioner, related to their knowledge and expertise of the various intricacies of the art. No matter how much magic is used, a novice Lyrical performer can, and will still be outplayed by an experienced Maestro using only traditional tools and techniques. And with mana easily affected by factors like physical, mental and emotional health, and linker core stability, Lyrical Magic requires even more specialty training and discipline than traditional music.

In recent years however, several other related magic practices have also been labeled as Lyrical Magic, due to their similarities in using music and sound as their base. The best known is the use of sound as a medium for the delivery of magical spells and effects, known as Lyrical Harmonics, also called Neo-Lyrical Magic, and the use of magic to manipulate raw sound to induce effects purely through sound waves alone, known as Pseudo Lyrical, or Sonic Magic. In theory, it is easy to identify these offshoots of sound-based magics from true Lyrical Magic due to the differences in their operational structure (these shall be discussed at further length in upcoming chapters); In practice, the layman will have difficulty distinguishing between these three, since many of them have spells which share the same effects, despite the difference in the methods used in their casting.

The one true distinction that Lyrical Magic has over all other disciplines, schools and styles involving magic is the intent for its creation: It is the only magic system ever developed that was intended purely as an artistic practice, without any practical commercial, industrial or military purpose, devoted only to the purpose of improving the quality of one’s musical creation and enjoyment. This in contrast to other non-military fields of magic, such as Galleria Magic - for painting and physical visual arts - which are offshoots of spell disciplines designed for war and conflict (Galleria was originally an Old Belka propaganda system). Nonetheless, as the knowledge of the power of Lyrical Magic continues to spread more and more people are finding more ways to adapt, integrate and apply the techniques and skills learned from this discipline into other fields of magic, and by the same token Lyrical Magic expands its horizons even further through the adaptation of military magic technologies and techniques to add to the already endless variations that this artful discipline has to offer for the aspiring musician and enthusiast alike.

II. The History of Lyrical Magic

The Distant Past

As far back as mankind in different parts of the multiverse first gained the intellect required for artistic appreciation, music has been a constant part of their lives. Inspired by natural songs and melodies the echoed throughout their respective environments, man has sought to communicate feelings and intents through elegant and beautiful ways that normal communications cannot convey. And what better way to talk to their incorporeal gods and deities, above and beyond reason and the puny words of mere mortals?

For many ancient cultures, music was less of a means of personal entertainment and more a medium through which they communicated and prayed through their gods. No culture with a developed spiritual and religious base could perform their grand and complex rituals without their chants and songs, at times accompanied by dance and various physical rites ranging the gamut from the joyfully fascinating, to the painful and the bizarre. Their words strong, their devotion firm their songs of prayer would ask for their god’s graces, whether they be another year of abundant crops, wealth and prosperity for their communities, ward off misfortune from their people whether through war, famine, or disease – or wish upon such to befall their hated enemies. Most prayers were vocalized, accompanied by makeshift drums and other instruments they could muster, as long as their message could reach their god’s ears.

Most cultures up to Stage 3 (Proto-Metallurgical) have more or less developed the basic musical implements, including wind instruments like flutes and whistles, percussion instruments (i.e. drums), and string instruments like lutes. And while the development and importance of music is different for each culture as time progresses, many of them rely primarily on physical strength and skill to perform both vocally and instrumentally, hence limiting their musical range to the power and dexterity of an individual’s lungs or hands. Even amongst cultures capable of using mana (Stage 3S – Proto-Metallurgical; Magic and below), the majority forego the use of magic as an art in and of itself, with the preference for practical use, primarily in warfare. And when fighting was not an issue, magic was used in prayers and ceremonial rituals to enhance the practical aspects of the processes, for example lighting fires and weather control, rather than any purely theatrical endeavor. This was particularly true of cultures with deeply ingrained religious beliefs such as the Haridean Tribe of the 142nd Administrated World “Vaios”, which even today believe in the purity of magic as a divine entity, and therefore reject any “impurity” which could “defile” their magic, whether through the introduction of technology or the misuse of magic for petty personal means. And while not all share this overzealous belief, for many cultures magic, like fire (or for some, lightning) was a natural gift from the gods that was to be respected lest its power destroy them. There was also the pragmatic side to their arguments: While different races have different ratios of mage-class residents, magic users are always a small minority in any population, and those gifted with such power are seen as valuable and important assets to the community, burdened with the load of responsibility to their people. A power as great as magic has no place in petty entertainment, and with talented magicians few and far between, their energy was better directed to more useful tasks – like eliminating one’s enemies for example.

Not all cultures share this belief obviously, and occasionally one can find the rare magician with too much time on his hands wondering what else his magic could be used for. While no one person or culture can be credited with the singlehanded fusion of Lyrical Magic, the very first traces of a magically-enhance musical artistry can be found in entries on rare Archaic tablets and stone carvings pre-dating the Alhazredian Era. One such example is the “Ry’Rik”, as they’re known by the surviving descendants of the Vulcuru tribes on Atunea Prime which recount the tales of shaman storytellers who entertained their devout followers with random theatric acts using magic to make their stories more engaging and grandiose, a huge advantage whether in converting more would-be disciples, or keeping their already loyal patrons happy. These texts also come with lyrics to various psalms and verses to be recited at prayers, along with general instructions on what kind of magical effects go on which part of the song for maximum effect. Unfortunately the Vulcuru’s magical expertise is stunted by their limited Linker Core biology, hence they could only manage simple light, flame and lightning spark spells for the task. Other tribes and cultures that had similar shaman and priest entertainers were also races of limited magical ability, most often geographically boxed between powerful magical states, and thus entertainment was all their magic could ever be.

Less restricted were the Alhazred, the legendary race from the eponymously named kingdom reknowned for their technologies and magic far ahead of their time, and whose existence which up to a couple of years ago was deemed a myth. As a civilization they were undoubtedly leaps ahead of all others in terms of science due to their superior collective intellect, and with their wizened mages they also pioneered many new and unheard of magical principles and theories, including interdimensional travel nearly 10,000 years before modern trans-dimensional technology. A lesser known fact about Alhazred society was the incredible number of mages employed in all walks of life, with recently uncovered data from the Infinite Library files pointing to a 20-to-1 ratio of non-magics to mages, a surprisingly high number for any mage society - modern Midchilda in comparison has an average ratio of 500-to-1, which is already amongst the highest in recent times. This abundance in the number of mages would have created a surplus of people capable of using magic but unemployed by neither the militaries nor the church due to economic reasons. This group, known in their native language as “Oro.mus” or “magic civilian”, was free from the stigma or pressured responsibilities other cultures have for their mages because of their ubiquity. As a result, they were given free reign over their use of magic in their professions, and their contributions were responsible for Alhazred’s many advances in their scientific, commercial and industrial knowledge. Inevitably, mages would trickle down into their artistic communities, with many magic civilians using their magic for more than just their jobs, often entertaining themselves with their extravagant magic and technologies from their various professions. These culminated in the creation of the various “Vivlios”, guilds of magicians who specialized only in the performing arts and entertainment.

These Vivlios (named after the places they gathered, the “Vivili”, reminiscent of a bar/stage/brothel) used to be simple gatherings for oro.mee (plural form), to entertain themselves in between work, the most popular past time (asides from sexual activities) being live musical acts and performances, much like modern times. As time passed, a trend slowly emerged where more and more magicians started to work as full-time entertainers. Even for liberal Alhazred, the idea of a pure entertainer was a very unorthodox one: their working society strongly emphasized contributive productivity to the advancement of their civilization through knowledge above all things, a byproduct of their scientific and technological superiority, and people who worked only as entertainers were seen by authority amongst the same level as unemployed workers – those unable to contribute to society as a whole. Despite this stigma by their own government, and the crackdowns, laws and restrictive ordinances, the Vivlios continued to have pure performers amongst their ranks. And as they improved their performances act by act, they started to apply their self-taught and adapted magical knowledge into their routines. Some of the more persecuted groups, unable to perform at known popular places, had to perform in secret locations with inadequate facilities, and some had to work part time in prostitution to evade the law – as reproduction was considered “productive” and acceptable in their stigma. Outcast and forced to perform ‘underground’, these mage entertainers began to use their magic to compensate for their lack of physical resources – the first step in the creation of Lyrical Magic. And for years, the Vivlios would become the primary entertainment of choice for many Alhazred, the best way to unwind from the stresses of everyday work.

Despite the seeming stability and decadence enjoyed by Alhazred, like all great kingdoms their arrogance, coupled with complacency would be their undoing, and over the years the escalating civil strife, fueled by both external conflict from neighboring empires and internal social and political divisions tore the once thriving kingdom into anarchy, leading into the First Dislocation Event triggered by powerful extra-dimensional weapons of mass destruction. The cascading effect of these weapons created a dimensional fissure that consumed Alhazred Prime, and decimated the remaining colony worlds and nearby civilizations into social and technological devolution claiming countless lives, and many other worlds were affected through the ancient interdimensional slipstream webway that the Alhazred created, disrupting even more worlds. Most of Alhazred’s scientific and magical advances were wiped out, and along with them the culture and knowledge of the Vivlios. With many of the formerly majestic civilizations wiped out or devolved to shadows of their former selves, mayhem and conflict reigned throughout the known multiverse as the survivors struggled to reestablish their wealth, power and territories, and once again the supremacy of mages would once again be called upon to tip the balance of power between the warring empires.

With the chaotic state of the post-Alhazred era, a musical entity like the Vivlios would not appear for a long, long time.

****

“Such arrogance…”

Kaylin paraphrased the line with a haughty inflection, seemingly as if mocking someone. Except that the one she mocked was herself – she already knew what her other peers would say about stating such words as fact despite the flimsiest of evidence. Even with all the knowledge gained about Alhazred in the mainstream archaeological community, most of it was based on anecdotal accounts and on literature that could be passed off and dismissed as works of fiction. Despite the words she had written down, there were still many among her peers who still believed in Alhazred only as a myth. For one such as herself who believed in the proclaimed land of ages as more than mere illusion her works on the subject have long been scorned with much skepticism and exasperated disbelief, much like how one would feel about a child trying to convince adults that bogeymen lived under their beds. It didn’t help that she cannot reveal the source of the information she had gathered, no matter how convincing – on behalf of her contacts and sources, she dare not betray their trust in her ability to keep confidential matters hidden.

Especially the first and foremost source of everything Alhazred she had: the consciousness known as Iiza, who dormantly resided inside Glock’s head. The entity, Alhazredi in origin, did not wish to be exposed to the world, and it would be just as well lest she wanted to see Glock become but an invaluable specimen of experimentation for the overly curious.

She stared intently at the screen in front of her, as if contemplating on each and every word she had written… she shrugged, then continued to type.

Afterall, Kay never was one to approve about confirmation from a piece such as this one, as long as she got the message across…

****

The Belka Era

The following millennia in the aftermath of the First Dislocation Event were a period of turmoil for many civilizations in the wake of Alhazred’s destruction, the Dark Ages of the multiverse. Entire planetary systems and worlds, which once benefited from the trade and commerce granted by the Alhazred interdimensional gateways, were now isolated and devastated. Magical development and advancement was once again geared full-time into military and state services as squabbling nations and empires sought to regain their lost majesties and prosperity, leaving little time for magic to be used elsewhere. What scant scientific and technological knowledge the struggling empires could salvage from Alhazred’s legacy was put into work, and the empires throughout the centuries slowly rebuilt their lost magical and technological advantages.

And of the empires that rose from the ashes of the Dark Age, none was as powerful or influential as the Kingdom of Belka, located on Belka Prime, once a backwater fringe colony of the Alhazred empire. As a planet Belka Prime was the closest in proximity of the surviving worlds to Alhazred Prime, and thus the Belkans had the greatest access to their former empire’s technologies and knowledge. Using this advantage to its fullest the nations of Belka Prime waged wars of domination against each other using powerful magical weapons, claiming countless lives until only the victor, the Aryas Kingdom could claim their place as the true representative of all Belka. With the planet forcefully unified under a single supreme leadership, The Sankt Kaiser, and with their first steps into regaining interdimensional travel, the Belkans expanded into conquering other nearby worlds, soon becoming the largest of the immediate post-Alhazred empires to ever exist. With their superior military might and technology unmatched by no other force it seemed the Belkan’s campaign of indiscriminate conquest would never end.

On the surface, Belka was a prosperous and thriving multi-world empire, almost the microcosm of former Alhazred as the primary hotbed of scientific and magical research and development, but where Alhazred sought knowledge, Belka sought military power, meant to ensure their superiority over any internal or external threat. And this history of violence had its dissidents, the minority who rallied behind the banner of unity in peace lest the Kingdom of Belka repeated the same mistakes as the Empire from which they first belonged to. Pacifist groups surfaced, calling for moderation to the power-mongering of the monarchy, who wished only to further expand their sphere of reign.

Many of these rebels came from the educated middle-class, pushed into denouncing the current authoritative figures either by their unfair treatment by the upper-class elite, disgruntled nationalists who sought to regain their identities before falling under Belkan rule, or influenced by the subtle political ambitions of opposition members working to usurp the Saint King’s throne with the promise of a better future. Still, many were driven by their ideal of a rule that sought cooperation and benevolence between nations. And when a thousand years into their reign, Belka Prime was rendered uninhabitable by a yet unexplained dimensional dislocation known as the Second Dislocation Event that eliminated the capital world along with hundreds of other planets and splintered the once unified kingdom into internal strife, the sentiments from the ideals of these dissidents lingered on in the hearts of many. Sentiments that simmered under the surface as the threat of another war drew near, a war to once again unite the splintered factions and nations under the banner of the Saint King of Belka, known as the Unification War.

While many pacifist groups took the militant route of dissent against the actions of their respective empires, there were bands of other idealists who took on the responsibility of calming and assuring the rest of the populace during these dark times, hoping for their words of non-aggression to reach into the hearts of people. It was around this time that a number of mages and wizards began to lend their powers to this cause in various ways, and some of them, unwilling to use violence to get their message across resorted to the arts to convey their feelings of unity and peace. And during these times of relative material decline, the most popular art with which to do this was through music, which required no galleries or stages, only a listening ear.

Most mage musicians during this time used their magic solely for self-defense, a necessary measure in case they had to face up against any number of dangers in their travels, including bandits, or at times Imperial soldiers. Some also tended to be quite vocal and passionate about their discontent for the current political situation at the time, at times with the intent of inciting action amongst the populace, and hence many were branded as dissidents, forever on the run from authority.

Except for one…

The Order of Azure Sky

Nobody knows where they came from, or when they first appeared. But around 300 years ago, a small musical band of young mages appeared into the tumultuous climate of the Unification Era. At first glance they were no different to the other mage musicians at the time, but from the moment their voices and instruments delivered their elegant symphonies, one knew that they were quite special.

This was the group known as the Order of the Azure Sky, a travelling band of mage entertainers who performed musical acts in towns and cities across the worlds. But quite unlike other mage musicians of their time, they preached no stance in the politics of the war, no message of peace and unity. They were but a simple band who loved to play music and entertain. And their music was the most legendary thing of all.

Few could explain what is it about their music that was different from others at the time, and from those that can, their words speak of the wonder that they heard:

And the maiden stood, an angel amongst mortals
With blue hair, and her eyes a deep azure
Glowing radiantly like heaven’s shining portals
Her marvelous face, so gentle, so pure

She sang an aria so quaint, of love lost and gone
My heart in wonder at every line
I drowned in her spirit; drunk like my soul was done
With her voice so sensual and so divine

My mind indulged in an orgy of light and sound
Bright as day in the middle of the night
Enslaved by her symphony, our essence spellbound
By her opus so undoubtedly right

Tears fell down my cheek, for reasons I know not why
Is all this a dream, or is this for real?
Am I still alive, or had I dropped down to die,
For this is not earth, but heaven I feel?

- Excerpt from “Visions of a Deity”

****

“I think you really went overboard there.”

Kay paid no heed to the female voice behind her, from the young redheaded lady under her charge.

“It’s a necessary literary addition Asuka, a first-person view of their experiences with the Order.”

“Sounds like an exaggerated account to me.”

A momentary wistful stare, before Kay resumed her typing.

“I don’t think so… I really don’t think so…”

****

The woman was known only as the Azure Goddess, the Blau Gotten, and she was the lead vocalist, guitarist, and leader of the Order of the Azure Sky. Possessing an elegantly beautiful voice equaled only by her stunning looks her talent at singing was undeniable. But her greatest feat was not her voice, but the music to which she lent her voice, and the music played by the Order was a powerful kind of music unlike any they have heard before. Clear, crisp, powerful and soulful their performances had an aura of divinity about them that calmed their hearts through slow ariettas, or at times pumped their bloods with excitement at the unorthodox fast-paced beats they played. Not just their sound, there was always a flair of extravagance about their gigs, with complex choreographed lights and effects moving across their playing field, no matter the location, at times reaching heights of sophistication rivaling that of modern multi-million concert performances. Coupled with her sometimes wild acts and boundless onstage energy her performances were on a totally different league of excitement from any other musical group before her. As her reputation grew through rumors about her spread by travelers, the Blau Gotten and the Order began to attract legions of fans, some who devoutly followed them on their journeys like disciples. Wherever she went she’d leave a massive impression on those who listened, and in her wake she left people dazzled and astonished, wanting for more. And even amongst skeptics, they could never deny the magnificence of her live performances as few before her have done.

Various tales and rumors started circulating amongst fans and casual observers alike about the mystical nature of the Order of the Azure Sky. The most widely circulated of these speculations was their extraterrestrial origin, that they’re unorthodox music was not of their world, or any others within known dimensional space. There may be some truth to their allegations, as the Order was often seen carrying instruments never before seen in Belkan space. The Blau Gotten’s own musical instrument, the guitar known as Rhythm Edge, had a chevron-like navy blue body more similar to an electric guitar, something that had yet to appear in Belka 300 years ago. Another strange feature of her device was its built-in cartridge system; in an era where the cartridge system was only beginning to be introduced into military devices, the Blau Gotten was already utilizing its power for the sake of her concerts, detonating cartridges to add to the excitement of the plays. Her four companions were as similarly sophisticated, utilizing their own individual instruments to support and enhance the Blau Gotten’s lead.

No matter the truth behind these speculations, the influence of the Blau Gotten on the immediate music scene was clear; many mage musicians would try – and many would fail – to match the Order’s musical techniques. It was the Blau Gotten who first coined the term “Lyrical” to refer to this particular discipline, and for a while this “Lyrical Magic” was the new fad amongst the mage musician community, as more and more people sought to learn her unique and mysterious style of music blended with magic, often asking for her personal tutelage so they may improve as mage magicians. Calling themselves “Lyrical Mages”, these artists, with their newfound knowledge, spread the word and teachings of Lyrical magic to interested individuals and enthusiasts throughout the known worlds.

Perhaps more so than her music, the one distinction that made the Blau Gotten unique amongst her peers was her neutrality to the present conflicts of the era. With no political stance or alignment, the Blue Goddess only wished to further her music and her arts through the power of magic. A genuine humanitarian, her kindness and consideration towards her fellow man, and her undying passion for music would attract a growing legion of loyal followers who came not only for her lessons about Lyrical Magic, but her beliefs and ideals. Teaching through her actions and music rather than glorified speeches, her noble spirit would, in the hearts and minds of those who knew her, become synonymous with the discipline that was Lyrical Magic.

Regrettably, the Blau Gotten’s glory would prove to be short lived: As rumors of her fame grew, several authorities from various kingdoms feared her extraordinary influence amongst the people, and there were talks about her being the new Sankt Kaiser, or a prophet that would overthrow the current leadership and bring about a new era of peace for Belka. There was also concern about the Blau Gotten’s prowess as a mage, which was formidable (current estimates based on her exploits place her as a SS Rank Mage, certainly an incredible rank). With rising tensions, and total war looming over the Belkan factions, the various kingdoms worked quickly to deal with the perceived treat of the Order of the Azure Sky, some seeking to use her for their own benefits, and others seeking to silence her permanently. The last known word from the Blau Gotten was her capture and imprisonment by Tristenia elite troops around the year MC -355, and no word or lead on her ultimate has surfaced since. Speculation range from at best a prison break, to execution, while others suggest she worked in secretly aiding the Tristenia, having been converted to their side. It’s also rumored that the imprisonment was a deliberate ploy, meant to throw off her pursuers, fueled by claims of sightings of the Blau Gotten several years after. But whichever version of events is true, the loss of the Blau Gotten, the heart and soul of the Lyrical Magic movement, meant the disbandment of the Order of the Azure Sky, and an end to one of the greatest eras of true Lyrical Magic.

The Fall of Belka

The years after the disappearance of the Order of the Azure Sky was another era of constant conflict and war, as the campaigns for the Unification of Belka under the Sankt Kaiser’s rule continued to be waged throughout different worlds. As strife engulfed every aspect of life the legacy of the Blau Gotten’s Lyrical Music was forgotten by many, and those who still practiced Lyrical Magic were either forced into exile and hiding, or lent their expertise to the various warring kingdoms. This lead to the implementation of Lyrical Music in several experimental forms of war propaganda to convert potential allies, in covert programs meant to tip the balance of power. Studies into the powers and spells of Lyrical Magic would lead to the development of two new schools of sound-based magic: Lyrical Harmonics, aka Neo-Lyrical Magic, originally designed to enhance the effectiveness of propaganda, and Sonic Magic, the pure weaponized version that used only raw sound as a base, without artistry or music. Both disciplines would be utilized with mixed success in the following conflicts.

The remaining Lyrical Mages who eluded attempts to be drafted into the war effort, disgusted at the perversion of their mentor’s art into weapons of war, and the perceived betrayal of their peers who helped usher such a perversion, created their own secret groups with the aim of preserving the message of art and music that the Blau Gotten had worked so hard to spread. Faced with constant persecution, military pressures and the general chaos of the Unification War period, these secretive groups never grew to significance, and many of them faded into obscurity, while those that managed to persist lead highly closed and secretive existences, practicing their music in the shadows away from prying eyes.

After centuries of strife, the Unification plan of Belka eventually fell apart with the death of the Sankt Kaiser and the loss of their flagship The Cradle, signalling the death knell of Ancient Belkan tradition and culture from the known worlds until all that was left was legend and myth.

The Rise of Ordered Space to the Present

Around the time the Belkan Unification Wars were drawing to their conclusions, another struggling world, known as Mid-Childa, was in the midst of several societal and political upheavals of its own. While initially an average world in terms of technological and cultural advancement, their development of magic was proceeding at an unprecedented rate, eventually arriving to the point of independent interdimensional travel around two hundred years ago on the eve of their own world unification. In stark contrast to Ancient Belka, the Mid-Childan policy was that of peaceful and benevolent settlement of conflicts between worlds and state, adopting a diplomacy-first mindset despite the wars they were engaged in at the time. This non-aggressive stance towards conflict earned them the respect of many world-nations, and through the years gained valuable allies in the process, allowing Mid-Childa to easily spread their cultural, technological and magical influence. After a few close calls regarding the proliferation of conventional mass-based, nuclear, chemical, biological and magical weapons of mass destruction nearly leading to several tragic incidents, most notably the Artesian Holocaust 160 years ago, Mid-Childa and several other aligned worlds began to form a supreme administrational government tasked with preservation of peace and stability throughout the known worlds – now known as Ordered Space – and the settlement of interplanetary and interdimensional disputes and conflicts. The entity known as the Time-Space Administration Bureau was hence founded almost 150 years ago, ushering in a new age of peace and prosperity throughout Ordered Space.

With the amount of interdimensional and local conflicts dropping to an all time low in several centuries, the surviving underground leagues of Lyrical Mages, who had kept their existences secret for more than 300 years, gradually resurfaced to a world free from the strife and the stigma that had burdened them in centuries past. Adopting the new techniques and disciplines of the MidChilda magic system, the once secretive Lyrical mages began to reemerge with newfound powers at their disposal.

There were many obstacles though to be overcome before the Lyrical mages could reassert themselves into this brave new world, the most prominent being the habits they have forced upon themselves out of necessity. With nearly 300 years of persecution at their backs the Lyrical Magic leagues had perfected the ways of covert operations, with a series of pacts, hard rules and guidelines designed to ensure the security and safety of the leagues against infiltration by unwelcome external elements. From simple password challenges, to the use of highly advanced cryptography, to sophisticated initiation rites their complex security system was a double-edged sword: It was effective at keeping out spies and concealing the leagues from public awareness, but it also made further recruitment extremely difficult, as the Lyrical magic leagues ran into a host of problems regarding public relations - They simply could not explain why such an intricate level of secrecy was necessary for a practice supposedly “harmless” and “peaceful”. As time passed the demand for openness and transparency began to be heard amongst the Lyrical magic community. Unable to reconcile their cherished ideals with the obsolete practices and traditions they had used to protect themselves, the various leagues fell apart from the inside, its members scattering into small groups all throughout Ordered Space to the freedom they have not experienced for many centuries.

The road to the true revival of Lyrical Magic began 10 years ago, with the rumors of a lone wandering diva who sang “with a voice descended from the angels in heaven itself”, earning her the praise of both peasants and kings along the worlds of the Outer Rim. She was eventually identified as one Milea Revaly, an aspiring opera singer, and de facto leader of the Sky Larks, a small band of Lyrical Mages with a heritage stretching back to the first of the Blau Gotten’s disciples nearly 4 centuries ago. Much like their patron mentor who started the trend of spreading the message of music, these present day Lyrical Mages travel throughout Ordered Space, sharing their knowledge and wisdom to those with a passion for it. And through their exploits, the number of people learning about the existence of this archaic yet elegant style of magic is slowly but surely growing, with the support of big name Lyrical Artists like the Sonic Divers, Nikki Vasra and others who are helping to spread the word about the beauty of this practice.

Still, there is a long way to go before Lyrical Magic can ever hope to be a mainstream practice. The modern Lyrical Magic movement is still relatively fresh, and there are still very few mages interested in devoting their lives to the pursuit of purely artistic endeavors, thus making Lyrical Magic a niche affair as of present.

Whether I'll be able to fully complete this is, like with all my works up in the air. Still, feels good to post something here again

[Wild Goose]

*Goose looks left and right*

*Goose hastily kicks under his bed his notes about mages using "Pure Sound" to channel their magic*

[XenahortCharybdis]

Originally Posted by Tempest Dynasty

Hmmm yeah.

Crosspost from FFT.

Spoiler for Sunrise:

Keroko was having a lovely time, sipping tea—a lovely masala chai—with The Mad Hatter and
a fellow in red known only as “Archer.” She was not entire sure what the conversation was about,
since it had been going on for quite some time and the chatter between the two males was rather
quick, but she was sure the topic was something about oranges, massage oil, and pipecleaners.
Before the mage could analyze the conversation any further, her associates turned to welcome a
new guest to the table.

It was a young girl, with straight black hair that ended around her shoulders, a thin build and large
eyes, and a perpetual smile that unnerved Keroko somewhat. She wore a simple blouse and long
skirt, and a long white sash with the words “New Years Fairy” draped over her chest. After
exchanging a few words with the others, she turned her attention to the redheaded mage.

“Ah! Greetings!” the girl held an arm out in salutation.

“Erm… Hi there,” Keroko slowly returned the salute. “Forgive my rudeness, but… Who are you?”

“I’m the New Year Fairy! Can’t ya see from my badge?” Despite it being called a badge, it was
most definitely not.

“Oookay,” the Ace nodded her head slowly. “So, what are you doing here?”

The girl turned her dark eyes onto the mage. Those deep, wide, empty eyes that seemed to go
on into forever, seeing beyond what could be seen and more than anyone could perceive; they
gazed soullessly at her, with that blank smile and glazed look… was she some sort of dream-
devouring monster? A baku?

Then she blinked.

“I’m here to wake you up! Behold!

“Hawk~!” In her left, hand, a small doll of a hawk.

“Eggplant~!” In her right hand, a purple eggplant.

“Awaken~!” Suddenly, from behind the girl, the magnificent form of Mount Fuji rose up and met
the morning sun’s rays.

Keroko’s eyes snapped open, her vision clearing to focus on the dim treeline off in the distance.
For a moment, she had absolutely no clue as to where she was or why she was outside, wearing
her winter coat and leaning against something. Slowly, the memories trickled back to her. Oh,
right. Everyone had came back to Earth for the winter holidays, and today was New Year’s
Eve… or was it New Year’s Day? Wait, it was the latter. They were sitting upon a quiet hill,
facing the darkened eastern sky in preparation to greet the sunrise. The night prior was spent
exploring the festivities of the temple the group had visited, and Keroko was pretty sure alcohol
was involved.

Her “pillow” shifted suddenly, causing her to pause in her thoughts. Looking up, she soon
discovered that she was in fact leaning rather heavily on a certain Belkan knight.

“Noland?” she murmured, reluctantly removing herself from the warm spot and rubbing the sleep
out of her eyes. “Hrmm, sorry about that. How long was I out?”

“Good morning, lady Keroko,” the knight greeted. “You were asleep for only a few hours. The
others had nodded off as well.”

He nodded his head towards several other clusters of people, members of their party that had all
succumbed to the nap bug in their quest to see the new year’s sun. Hayate was surrounded with
her beloved Wolkenritter; Vivio was comfortably warm, snuggled in between the snoozing bodies
of her unorthodox but very loving family; and the Harlaowns had come along as well, Lindy’s
emerald hair sticking out amidst her family’s huddle. Humorously, Noland’s other arm was
captured by the sleeping Vivio, an impromptu “teddy” for the child. This meant that the knight
was trapped between Keroko and Vivio, and not in a particularly ergonomic way.

“Are you comfortable at all like that?” Keroko glanced over the position.

“It is not so bad. At the very least, I am not cold,” he shrugged lightly. “However, it did make
napping a little more difficult.”

She blinked. “Wait, you were awake this entire time?!”

“Not the entire time, but I am afraid I was unable to rest as much as the rest of you.”

“You’re damn crazy, Noland.”

“Perhaps, but I had plenty of quiet time to think.”

Keroko grimaced, feeling a mild twinge of guilt at leaving the guy alone and uncomfortable. She
glanced at her watch, almost jumping out of her seat. “Oh man, it’s six. The sun is coming up in
less than an hour!”

Indeed, the sky was already a dim blue, the morning light gradually growing brighter and brighter.
There was enough light to see now, though the sun still had not risen over the horizon.

“Perhaps we should wake the others?”

“Yeah…”

Though initially irritated at being awoken, the others soon stirred from their rest and stretched as
they shook the sleep out from their systems. With his arm at last liberated, Noland joined the
others in stretching out his limbs. However, he soon returned to his original seat, with Keroko
standing in front of him.

“Not too much longer, now…” A chilly breeze brought a shiver down the girl’s spine, causing her
to huddle slightly for warmth. “Damn! Bloody wind is freezing! I wish I wore something a little
thicker… Hey, Noland, hold out your arms.”

“Like this?” He held out his arms as if he were going to hug someone.

“Perfect.”

She plopped herself into Noland’s lap, settling comfortably against the knight’s warm chest.
Noland was quick to pick up, wrapping his arms around the girl’s slender waist and bringing his
chin to rest upon her shoulder.

“This way, we are both warm and we can still watch the rising sun.”

“Indeed. I approve of this.”

They would suffer a bit of teasing because of this, but as time passed, their attentions were drawn
to the east. Soon, the much-awaited time had arrived.

“Oh! There it is! The sun’s rising!” a happy smile crossed Keroko’s face, feeling the subtle
warmth of the winter sun. Her smiled weakened, however, as she looked to her companion and
was reminded of his… condition. “You… can’t see it.”

Dammit, how could she keep forgetting?

Noland shook his head, giving Keroko a small smile. “It is of no consequence. Judging by the
excitement of our group, it must be a wonderful, awesome sight.”

The Ace was quiet for a moment.

“The… The sun’s just peeking over the horizon now, a brilliant golden orange orb surrounded by
an orange-red sky. Above it, a light blue that deepens into a navy color, the few clouds reflecting
the golden light…” Keroko tried to describe the sunrise as best she could, putting as much detail
as she could and leaving nothing out. Not only the sunrise, but the surroundings as well; the trees
of evergreen and the empty branches of deciduous, the twilight sky and the awakening birds,
even the glistening frost and pockets of remnant snow lining the earth, Keroko tried her best to
paint a picture of a moment in time.

With every word she spoke, she could feel the arms around her tighten and pull her closer.

“I can see it now, lady Keroko. I can see your wonderful sun, rising over the hill and banishing the
darkness, sharing its warmth the world and I. It is amazingly beautiful, a sight that cannot be
copied,” Noland hugged the girl close, whispering to her. “Thank you.”

A comfortable peace. A nice silence. They merely enjoyed the sights, the atmosphere, and each
other.

“Hey, Noland?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy New Years.”

The knight smiled. “Please take care of me this year.”

“Haha~”

Spoiler for Extra:

The train ride back to the city was quiet and uneventful, majority of the riders having all nodded
off once more. It would be a few hours more before they could reach their destination. Indeed,
many people were quite tired from the previous night, and the following morning’s events.
Fortunately, the train was not very crowded, allowing a good amount of elbow room to get
comfortable in.

A small bump in the train jarred Vivio Takamachi awake, pulling her from the blessed warmth of
her dreams. She rubbed her eyes, pushing up from the “bed” of her parents’ laps. But, even as
she returned to the land of the waking, she saw something even more… amazing.

Across from her was Big Sis Keroko, and next to her was Nolan. The knight had finally slipped
into the dreaming world, and in doing so, slumped over to the side. Now, his head was resting
comfortably upon Keroko’s lap, with the Ace gently cradling the knight’s head in her hands.
She seemed to notice Vivio, smiling as she raised a finger to her lips.

Let him rest. She seemed to say. And tell no one.

Looking back down at the sleeping man, Keroko brushed an errant strand of hair out of Noland’s
face.

Please take care of me this year too.

I melted for about ten seconds.
Therefore...I approve.

[AdmiralTigerclaw]

A quick tangent. I've got a new person helping me with my project MAGICAL GIRL. Which has given me new developemental motivation.


The following is a quick lecture from Alexander Edwards on his experience with the enemy...

Spoiler for What is an ONI?:

"Soldier... SOLDIER! What is THIS?"

"Nine-mil sir. It seems like the best idea in this fight. More ammo and all."

"Best idea? Do you have any idea what you're up against?"

"I'm up against an Oni sir... Nothing a gun can't handle if what you said is true."

"Really? Soldier, do you know what an Oni IS?"

"It's just some big Japanese monster right?"

"Just a Japanese monster? How about this... Imagine a grizzly bear. Yeah. A Grizzly bear. Big, strong, and can smash you like a toy car. You got that image in your head? That's pretty bad news right? It gets better. Now imagine that grizzly bear could outwit you in a game of chess, has cat-like reflexes, and can heal like a bad knockoff of Wolverine from X-Men... That 'grizzly bear' can soak up every round in that magazine and it MIGHT be annoyed. An annoyance it would express by breaking your neck swatting you like a masquito. How would you like to meet one of those in a dark ally? How about twelve of them operating like a pack of wolves... Or more accurately, like a special forces unit? Does that sound appealing to you?"

"No sir."

"I didn't think so. But if you think I'm joking, bring it along. You won't find it so funny when they're LAUGHING your shots off. "

"I'll get a bigger gun sir."

"Sounds like a good idea..."

"Gentlemen! I notice some of you don't seem to understand what you're about to fight, so listen, and listen good!"

"The secret word for today is FIREPOWER!"

"Because what you're going up against, that's all that matters."

"This is not counter insurgency."

"This is not a hostage crisis."

"This is NOT a video game!"

"This is BIG GAME HUNTING. And the GAME... Hunts. You. Back!"

"So if you want to have a chance at winning, you're going to need BIG guns, with BIG bullets! I don't care if it's heavy, dead men are heavier. So listen up because I'm only going to say this once!"

"FIFTY CALIBER!"

"ARMOR PIERCING!"

"ANYTHING THAT EXPLODES!"

"If it violates the Geneva conventions, PACK IT!"

"If the enemy is still in one piece, he can still fight!"

"Now hurry up!"

"YOU HEARD THE MAN! MOVE MOVE MOVE! HEAVY WEAPONS! GET THAT HUMVEE READY!"

[FlameSparkZ]

Originally Posted by Tempest Dynasty

Hmmm yeah.

Crosspost from FFT.

Spoiler for Sunrise:

*snip*

Yet another nice piece :3
The dream part was though

Spoiler for Sunrise omake - FSZ version:

"My arms are numb..." Koji pointed out to no one in particular as his arms served as rest for a sleeping Yui and Maren.

Just my 1 cent

[NorthernFallout]

This serves as a sort of Prologue (quality might be lacking) for the character of Project V. I'm not entirely sure what I'll do with her, but she have a high chance of tying in with Wallachia.

Spoiler for The Empty Shell Searching For Answers:

An empty casket of a human, a mere toy for scientists seeking the answer. A machine of flesh, a being without life. The virtual interface, lacking the sense of a brain. A being that is neither alive nor dead. Indifference yet sadness. What awaits it beyond the horizon is a question yet to be answered, with only a single lead guiding its path; the taste for blood.

*

"Halcon Squad, docking sequence complete within ten seconds. Stand-by."

The pilot of the Jannil carefully calibrated the ship so its starboard side could latch onto the Sinestra's hull. In the vacuum of space, maneuvering in such a small distance was troublesome and highly dangerous, but this pilot knew what he was doing.

It was that impression Lieutenant Tanner had decided to go with regarding the young pilot and he stuck to it. He and Halcon Squad stood at the ready, prepared to switch board the much larger spaceship.

A heavy clunk and an abrupt shake of the ship told him the docking was complete.

"All right Halcons! Let's move!"

His First Sergeant went first, while Tanner and the rest of Halcon followed him into the narrow tunnel created between the Sinestra and the Jannil. They were weightless all the way, as the Jannil was too small to fit its own gravity generator, until they reached a closed hatch on the other side. The First Sergeant took forth his wielding tool and went to work.

Of the little that Tanner knew about this operation, he had established that the Sinestra had gone offline in the middle of space and that its crew, thought to be injured or otherwise unable to control the ship, needed rescue. That was all that he had been told about the operation and yet he couldn't help to shake the feeling that something was off. This wasn't some ordinary rescue mission, it was something else. The brass was holding something back, but what it was he couldn't figure out. He kept it to himself however; no need to spook the entirety of Halcon squad without certain proof. It was already a high-risk operation; it always was in space.

The First Sergeant shut his tool off, breached the hatch and gave the rest of Halcon a thumbs-up. They started to go into the opening one by one, Tanner being the last to go through.

*

After moving to yet another chamber and closed a functioning hatch behind them, the Sinestra's gravity control went online. With the sturdy metal under their feet, giving them assurance of the integrity of the ship, they began to move towards the command center. According to the schematics Tanner had uploaded, the command center was in the front of the ship, not far from where they were.

The halls were completely dark, apart from a few lights shuttering on and off. Tanner had already felt something was terribly wrong back in the first chamber, since no one had been there to greet them. He doubted that, even if the crew was severely injured, that nobody would hail them even on their approach. It didn’t make sense.

He gave a signal to Halcon to keep their silence. With another series of hand movements he told them to active their nightvision-mode. A light green illuminated the area Tanner walked through as the nightvision came online and before him two members of Halcon made their way slowly forward, while the rest of the five man squad was behind him. Nothing out of the ordinary revealed itself in the corridor; only an eerie silence and darkness encompassed them.

Murmurs and whispers was a constant annoyance through the squad, but Tanner didn’t tell them to shut up. It kept them on their toes, albeit also slightly distracted.

Reaching the command center only took about five minutes and when they arrived a growing feeling of unpleasantness began to form in their stomachs. The command center was empty, with all its hardware shut off. Not a single light blinked inside the room, compared to the corridors behind them.

Halcon squad, on Tanner's command, began to check if the hardware was still functioning. The result of the search was that nothing was broken, but that the power had been cut off to this particular section. Tanner made a signal to regroup and they did so at the Captain's command chair.

"What in hell happened here?" one of them said, breaking the silence. He was nervous, but still kept his calm.

"I don't know," Tanner said and made a swift sweep around the command center. "It's as if they disappeared into nothing."

"Any transmissions?" another member asked.

"None", was the answer from the squad's communications officer. "It's all silent. However, I can't get into contact with the Jannil either. Something is blocking us."

The group lowered their voices as they grumbled nervously about the fact.

"I don't like this at all," Tanner mumbled and took out a small device. It was only a decimeter big, with a light blue polish and a single digital screen.

"What's that?"

"An experimental device they gave me before we departured. A motion sensor of sorts." Tanner pressed a in a sequence of numbers and the device sprung to life. A list appeared on its small screen, with names and distances. Two sets of numbers were also visible in the right corner.

"The green number corresponds to how many TSAB members it can detect. If possible it will also list the name and distance to the person, thanks to an ID-tag in their uniforms." Tanner stopped his explanation suddenly.

"What? Is it malfunctioning?" someone asked.

"No... That isn't it." He held the device higher and turned around, but it still showed the same result. "It's odd. I'm not getting any names, just distances and numbers."

"So?"

"So, unless their ID-tags are malfunctioning, it means they are not part of the TSAB." He checked the device again. "And to add, it detects twenty-seven sources. Only five are green and within five meters."

Halcon squad looked at each other and shifted nervously. Tanner noticed the atmosphere was turning sour.

"Don't shit your pants yet boys, we are just getting started. Check your gear and we'll move on. No need to stay here anymore."

As the squad moved out, Tanner put in a new series of codes and activated the audio function. A small, soft blip could now be heard in short waves into all helmets of the squad. Before they asked him what it was, their confused faces being enough of an indicator for a wave of questions, Tanner offered an explanation.

"An indicator of range, of sorts. It only reacts to the red numbers and will speed up if any of them gets closer. Currently they are almost a hundred meters away so the signal is still weak."

They all nodded, accepting the explanation and moved out of the command center. They managed about twenty meters before one of the members, Corporal Sperl, made a startled realization.

"Sir, you said there were twenty-seven sources, right?"

"Yes, so?"

"The crew of the Sinestra only consisted of twenty-one... and since we are five here..."

He drifted off. The squad members eyed each other with a growing fear. Tanner motioned to the now very active squad to be on the look-out for the intruder and to move forward.

"We have a visitor..." he mumbled and clenched the magi-rifle in his hands, feeling the assurance of cold metal.

The nightvision mode of their goggles provided them with acceptable vision, but it still produced a claustrophobic feeling for some. Private Wingslet was one of them and he was nervously sweeping an empty room with his magi-rifle when the blip in his helmet began to speed up. He, including the whole of Halcon squad, acted accordingly and took up defensive positions.

"Tanner, what's happening? Tell us!" Wingslet said, aiming back and forth down the corridors.

"One of them started moving. It's heading down this path, be on the look-out!" Tanner ordered and raised his own rifle, keeping an eye on the scanner. "Impossible..."

"What is?"

"It's moving too fast. Seventy-five... fifty... forty... this can't be human."

The blipping sound sped up more and more as the subject kept coming closer. Tanner began to grow more nervous, since no noise could be heard throughout the hull. The subject couldn't possibly run that silent.

"Fifteen, ten... five! Be ready!"

The blipping sound wasn't a blip anymore, but had multiplied to a constant shrieking when the subject was zero meters away. Halcon squad looked around in panic to see where the thing was, but nothing showed itself in the dark and silent corridors.

"Where the fuck is it? Come on out!"

"I can't see anything!"

"Shut up, all of you!" Tanner roared and shut off the annoying shriek made by the device. The distance counter still stood on zero when it shut the audio off, but neither he could see anything.

"Sir, does that thing detect only horizontally?"

"No, it scans a whole area unrelated to dimension... wait..."

They stared at each other for a few seconds before they all started looking up. An open vent was directly above them, pitchblack and silent.

"Wingslet, help the Corporal up there," Tanner said.

"W-What? Me?-" the Corporal started to object, but got cut off.

"Yes, I mean bloody you! Now get up there!"

Without another argument, knowing better than to argue as the loyal soldier he really was underneath the scared shell, Corporal Sperl got onto the Private's shoulders, took support against the vent's walls and slowly stretched his legs. The nightvision mood revealed dark spots seemingly coming from a specific direction up inside the vent and he eased himself upwards until his eyes cut above the vent's "floor". An intersection appeared in front of him, separating into four directions.

"What do you see?" Tanner asked. He stood beneath, looking upwards.

"Uh..." Sperl turned his head slowly and searched the vent for anything out of the ordinary. The path going towards the stern was empty and so was the starboard side. "Nothing yet, sir. There are dark spots on the walls that seem to have dried, but I don't know what it is. It's hard to see even with the nightvision- Oh fuck!"

"What, what?"

"There is a whole shitload of this dark stuff, towards the aft. It's like something got dragged through here."

Tanner was suddenly reminded of an old movie involving predator-like aliens. He shook his head to clear it of such nonsense. It wasn't time to mix fantasy with reality now.

Sperl meanwhile made a full circle with his exploration and came up with nothing. The vent was empty, apart from the black, unknown matter covering it.

"Nothing here. I think the device is malfunctioning-"

The floor beneath Wingslet suddenly broke upwards and something latching onto his leg made him shriek. Before anyone understood what was going on, he fell down into the hole and disappeared into the darkness beneath. Sperl fell down and crashed onto the floor while everyone else scrambled to help Wingslet.

"Wingslet!" Tanner stuck his head down into the hole, but the nightvision only revealed a small tunnel underneath. Wingslet was nowhere to be seen. Tanner could only hear an echoed scream at the far end, being abruptly cut off.

"Shit, he's gone!" He flew up on his feet and stowed the device away, clutching the rifle. "We are getting the fuck out of here!"

"What about Wingslet?" Sperl shouted, managing to get back to his feet. The rifle attached to his back came off and he checked to see if it was alright.

"We'll come back for him. I'm not willing to risk the whole team by rushing blindly into the dark. Now let's go-"

Something swooped by his nightvision and he reacted by instinct. The magi-rifle fired its payload in a blaze of light and thunder, and the rest of Halcon squad did the same. The interior of the Sinestra exploded with light in all directions for a few moments before Tanner ordered a cease fire. Black scorch marks had burrowed into the walls around him, but the creature was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the little shit, it just swooped past me!" Tanner turned around and flinched from the repulsive sight behind him. The rest of Halcon squad followed him one after one and stared at their now dead comrade who had just stood beside them firing his rifle. His head was the only thing damaged, cleaved in two, with blood slowly pouring out onto the floor. His eyes were wide-open in surprise.

"What... Private Antor, what the fuck..."

"Go, go! Retreat, we are not sticking around a second longer!" Tanner screamed and they burst into a run towards the Jannil. It was now a fight for survival and Tanner didn't give a damn of who stood in-between.

*

Private Lears, running close behind Sperl and Tanner, hadn't been this afraid in his entire, although short, career. He had never experienced fear such as this. Something that could even get the hardened Tanner shaken was not something he would like to go up against.

As if his bad luck wasn't bad enough, a sudden electronic bug in his nightvision caused his whole vision to blank out suddenly and he staggered in the complete darkness until he ran straight into a wall. He could hear the mixed shouts of Tanner and Sperl, their steps getting further away, leaving him behind.

"Stop! Wait for me! Don't leave me here!" he screamed, but his words didn't reach them. He struggled up from his position and banged his helmet to try and get his nightvision to work again.

"You piece of shit! Work, work!" A soft hum gave him renewed spirit and his vision began to return. A smile of hope painted his face and so he turned around to run in the same direction as the others, since he was staring into the wall he had run into.

The sheer surprise made the scream stop in his throat when he stared into bright red eyes. A small girl with a white dress and snow white hair stood, or rather hung, up-side down from the ceiling above him. Her dress and hair remained on her body as if gravity itself had switched around. Her face was completely indifferent, not with the slightest trace of emotion.

As it was the only thing that had suddenly come into Lears's view, he was unable to move from shock. His jaw hang open and sweat drenched his neck, thoughts racing through his mind telling him he was dreaming. It was too surreal.

The last thing his brain registered was a massive red claw, almost as big as the girl herself, launch towards his head.

*

"Fuck! Sir, we lost Lears!"

Tanner turned around and only now noticed that Lears was missing. He had been so busy saving himself that he had forgotten about the third remaining squad member. He threw a fist into the wall beside him in rage.

"God dammit! What the fuck is going on?!"

"Sir, we're only ten meters from-"

Tanner was staring at Sperl when it happened. He couldn't believe the sheer speed this creature was using. A red-black, blurry cloud flew past them, on the ceiling, and disappeared into an adjacent corridor. Sperl fell quiet, with a red ring beginning to form around his throat.

"Sperl..."

The Corporal clawed at his throat as the blood flooded out from his severed neck and his head began to lean in an awkward angle. He was staring at Tanner all the time, even after the head completely detached from his shoulders and his body fell into a bloody heap. It splashed against the cold floor and a dark pool of blood began to gather around him.

Tanner, by some stroke of luck or simply training, didn't collapse into a panic and instead bit his teeth together and sprinted in the other direction, towards the connected tunnel. It was only him left now on the Sinestra and with some kind of luck the pilot would still remain on the other ship, ready to extract him.

*

The pilot on-board the Jannil had stopped his futile attempts to reach Halcon squad. His signal was permanently blocked from an outside source and nothing he did helped. Not even messaging the base was of any use; no response came back and he had started to suspect that it was the Sinestra who was blocking him. He remembered faintly how a warning had popped up just as he had attached to the ship, but he had been too preoccupied to check it out before.

Suddenly his panel came alive with a screaming voice.

"Jenson, open the fucking airlock right now!"

How the signal breached through the jamming signal Jenson didn't know, but the voice he recognized immediately as Tanner. He keyed in a few commands which opened the airlock. He then activated his own voice communication.

"Tanner, why did we lose contact? There is some sort of jamming-"

"Shut the fucking hatch! Shut the hatch!"

Jenson winced back from the roaring voice of the Lieutenant and became more alert. "Sir, I'm only detecting you alone in the airlock. Where are the rest?"

"Fuck if I know, dead probably! Now shut the hatch!"

"Dead?" Jenson shook his head. "Impossible. What about Halcon-"

"God dammit Jenson shut the fucking hatch right now or I'll come up there myself and strangle you!"

Jenson went quiet and thought. He had never encountered this situation before and he was uncertain of what to do. Unable to ask the base for suggestion, he was now in charge of the Jannil, at least until Tanner came on-board. He hit the communications button again.

"Sir-"

He was interrupted by a wailing scream erupting through his speakers, full of agony and fear. It was cut off suddenly and left him in silence. Jenson, not thinking straight, hit the airlock's hatch controls in panic and opened it. His heart was pounding away in his chest.

He waited for several seconds until he shut it again and spoke. "Sir... Sir?"

The other side was completely silent, apart from a noise sounding like dragging in the background. His interior ship scanner detected two lifeforms in the small compartment.

"Two? But Tanner said..."

Jenson drifted off as he heard something behind him from where he sat in his command chair. He went completely quiet and slowly trailed his hand down towards a magi-pistol attached under his seat for emergencies.

The shuffling behind him stopped and he could feel something breathing down his neck. Ice formed in his spine, but he continued to trail under the seat for the gun. He focused on his panel, fainting ignorance. His fingers felt the metal of the magi-pistol touching them and he clasped it.

Breaking the constraints holding the pistol attached, he swiftly brought it to bear and began to twist it around... just as a red, blood-drenched claw pierced through first the command chair and then the pilot's back. It chewed through his innards until bursting through his chest, breaking his lungs, heart and ribs in the process, throwing a cascade of blood onto the windscreen and panel in front of him.

Jenson dropped the pistol and stared at the claw sticking out of his chest. It twisted slowly, almost observing him in a tranquil manner, clenching and unclenching its sharp blades. Small lights, almost like lightning strikes, surged through the veins on the claw, back and forth in rapid succession. It was tasting him; searching for something.

His other organs suffered a similar fate as the rest when it drew back swiftly, and the life of Jenson seeped out of his body with the image of a claw sticking out of his chest being the last thing burnt into his retina.

*

In the Sinestra's engine compartment, a deep hum began to escalate until it produced a bass so strong it vibrated the ship's hull. Its engines began to awake, slowly picking up energy and propelling the ship forward. The Jannil, still attached to its side, followed with it, but the restraints couldn't stand against the tension put on them by the outside force.

After a pointless struggling, they finally broke and the Jannil drifted off into space, with its engines flaring abruptly for a few seconds before stabilizing. With the Sinestra blasting off into space, the autopilot on-board the Jannil activated its emergency programming and set a new course; the spaceport in Cranagan.

As if sending a final goodbye, the sensors aboard the small ship reported a sudden energy emission behind it and the following shockwave, lightening up the dark space, almost shook the ship to pieces. Back at the TSAB HQ, the operators would soon be informed that the Sinestra had been vaporized.

[NorthernFallout]

Knight of Exodus

Spoiler for Chapter 13 - The Mind's Disarray:

A dark, almost chilling, presence let itself be known in the shadow existence. Its aura of pure loathing and supernatural power floated as a dark cloud in a liquid form, tormented voices calling out from inside it. Its own voice, distorted and deep, welled out from its core.

“Dysnomia. Return.”

The world of shadows opened a slit in itself and a silver liquid seeped through. It shimmered against a non-existent light and rebuilt itself into a small cube with faint glowing lines around it.

"What is your request?" the cube said, or rather echoed through the darkness.

"Seek out the girl that can perceive our world and find out what she knows.."

"Yes, Master Application One."

The cube began to shrink, changing its shape numerous times, and eventually disappeared from the void. Only the darkness remained, the tormented voices and thoughts continuing to wail from the beyond. The deep voice spoke one last time before the shadows disappeared into themselves again.

"Our return is near. Be blessed upon my light."

*

Angelika woke up with a jolt in her bed, fully awake by something she could only feel as a faint presence. Her headache was mysteriously gone, but in its place was nausea rummaging in her stomach. She held her hand over her mouth and tried not to throw up. Confusion and dizziness came over her when she flung her legs over the bed's side.

The room was colder than when she had fallen asleep and it was almost pitch black. It was so quiet the only thing she heard was her own breathing. No traffic from below, not even an airplane passing overhead. There wasn't a single glimpse of light outside the curtains either.

She stood up and headed to the door. Her nightgown fluttered a little from air rushing in when she slowly opened it a few centimeters.

"Ragnar? Are you here?"

She ventured out into the hallway and looked around. Something black had been smeared on the carpet, but it was too dark to see what it was. She bent down and touched one of them. It was cold and moist, but without a smell.

The sound of curtains moving brought her attention and she sneaked towards the living room where it had come from, careful not to make a noise. She focused on the floor, as it was easier to make out any objects in her way.

Around the corner to the living room Angelika could make out a figure sitting on the couch, its head on a tilt forward as if it was sleeping. The main window was open, letting the fresh night air in and brushing the curtains around. Satisfied it was the only thing moving, and that the source of noise had been discovered, she searched the wall for the powerswitch. She found it eventually and switched it on.

The light flooded the living room. She blinked twice to get rid of the haze still remaining from her sleep and glanced at the couch. She recognized Ragnar almost immediately; his blue jacket was one of his most obvious features and he also had his cap on.

"Ragnar?" she said as she approached the couch. "Why are you sitting here? Is something wrong?"

Her feet treaded lightly on the carpet and she walked in front of him to check him closer. With the light on there wasn't a problem to see what was wrong, but it took a couple of seconds for Angelika's brain to comprehend what she was looking at.

The first thing that clicked was the smears in the hallway. The second thing that Angelika's mind struggled to make sense of was Ragnar's demolished face and his gut that had been ripped open, splattering his intestines all over the couch. Red fluid still dripped onto the carpet and a pair of extracted eyes stared at her from Ragnar's open hands.

"Ah... Ah!" When her body started working again she stepped backwards in shock. She tripped on the table, fell over it and rolled to the floor on the other side, hitting her head hard against the table's edge. She was shaking out of fear, holding her hands in front of her mouth and just wanted get away form the thing on the couch. The shock that had taken a hold of her body refused her to scream her lungs out.

She backed away further, still staring at the carcass, until she hit the opposite wall. Her legs finally caved in and she fell on her knees, sobbing without restraint. She knead her hands against her face, trying to stop the tears falling from them.

She didn't want Ragnar dead in front of her in such a horrible state. He didn't even look peaceful. It wasn't from this world.

"Oh, poor girl. I didn't mean to scare you like that," an indifferent voice said. It made Angelika jerk her head up and she stared at the... thing standing behind Ragnar's corpse. It floated in the air, a black serpent-like being with a featureless face. Its mere presence was so terrifying Angelika froze in her spot and couldn't take her eyes away from it.

Black, sharp antennas extended from behind the being's back as it moved closer, silently floating above the floor. "My name is Dysnomia. I believe you have heard of me."

Angelika twitched at the name and tried to get her breathing under control. She was hyperventilating, her adrenaline still running as a flood in her body.

"Judging from the lack of response, I suppose you have." Dysnomia let her antennas search their way over to Angelika, whom they prodded at gently. Angelika tried to get away from them, but she was caught in a corner.

"We are going to have a little chat. About the parallel realm and a few other things."

"A... A chat?" Angelika said, her voice shaking and stuttering in fear. She had trouble getting the words leave her mouth. Frozen on the inside, she forced herself to speak.

"How can you access the realm? I think that will be my first question," Dysnomia said. The antennas withdrew a few centimeters and waited for a response.

"I-I... don't know. I just can."

"You just can?"

Angelika nodded quickly, eager to please so the being could go away.

"Well, that's troublesome. You see, that isn't enough. I need to know everything to figure this thing out, or Master Application One will punish me. We don't want that do we?"

Angelika nodded again. Another antenna, this one slightly shaped like an arrow in its tip, extended from Dysnomia's right shoulder. It seemed extremely sharp and perfect. It positioned itself straight before Angelika with a fluid movement.

"Again; answer with everything you know. Or else, this extension of mine goes into your brain. If I do that our chat will become considerably shorter."

Tears threatened to swell up again as Angelika didn't know what this Dysnomia being wanted. She just wanted to get away, give it what it wanted and be done with it. But she didn't know the answer to the question. She was growing frustrated and began to shake again.

"I don't know! I just... I just can! There is something wrong in my head and it always has. I'm almost blind on one eye and the doctors said my head is the cause of it."

It all came out at once and when she stopped the crying started again. She wiped the tears away and tried to stop it.

"Intriguing... Interesting." Dysnomia put one of its claw-like hands to its face and nodded. "That means I have to go into your head and check it out for myself. Thanks for the invitation."

"What? I don't-"

The arrow antenna lined itself up and became perfectly straight. It then shot forward faster than a human could blink and pierced Angelika's vision-impaired eye. The antenna made contact with her brain and made itself even smaller, infiltrating her mind's nerv system. Angelika was screaming frantically, more out of the knowledge that her brain was being trawled than pain.

A surge of information shot through the antenna and into Dysnomia who hummed as it made sense out of it. Angelika's screaming meanwhile was becoming more silent as time passed and her healthy eye started to roll back. Her body was in spasm, as her brain's nerv network was demolished by the antenna carving through it for more information.

"Amazing. Master Application One will be pleased," Dysnomia said after another five minutes of the torture and withdrew the antenna. It flew out from Angelika's eye, bringing small parts of her brain and eye socket with it. To Dysnomia's surprise, Angelika was still breathing as she fell to the floor. Her breathing was very weak and slow, but there was no doubt the girl was alive.

"You are really useful. You should be dead. I wonder if you can fly too."

The rest of Dysnomia's antennas curled up and grabbed a hold of Angelika's body. They lifted her from the carpet and held her next to the open window.

"I'll see you again, perhaps. Goodbye." The antennas heaved Angelika's body out of the window and let gravity take over.

What Dysnomia hadn't noticed was that Angelika was not only alive, but conscious. She felt the wind take care of her body as the apartment fell further and further away, upward. Her nightgown made a flapping noise against the wind and she watched the building grow taller and larger. Other buildings came into view the longer she fell and she closed her eyes for the concrete closing in from below.

*

“Angelika! Angelika, wake up!”

Ragnar tried to desperately calm the frantic girl trashing around in her bed. She was screaming and crying uncontrollably. He squeezed her shoulders to try and snap her out of it.

“Angelika! It’s just a bad dream!”

She stopped screaming and stared at him with wide eyes. The tears silently dripped down her cheeks.

“Ragnar… You’re alive!” She hugged him tight and hid her face in his chest.

“Yes, I’m here and I’m still breathing. Why do you say such a thing?”

Angelika let go of him and wiped her tears away, still shaking throughout her body. To Ragnar she looked lost and confused.

“It was something from the pararell realm,” she said, completely serious. “I’m sure about it. I could feel it trawl through my mind, stealing information from me. Memories, knowledge…”

She was different from a few seconds ago and Ragnar noticed her yellow eye was almost flaring at him. Something he couldn’t understand was going on in Angelika’s head and he wanted to know what it was.

“Angelika, are you sure you’re alright?”

Her eyes darted back and forth, making sure everything was as normal in her head and body.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a slight headache I guess,” she said after a while. She gave Ragnar a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ve been feeling… weird these last couple of days.”

Ragnar patted her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what I’m here for after all.” He stopped and thought for a moment. “When you say weird, what do you mean?”

“Headaches, mostly.” She bit her lip. “There’s also been these… voices. Calling out to me. My eye has been aching too.”

“We should let Sigrid know when she returns,” Ragnar mumbled and folded his arms. Angelika got alert at the mention of her sister.

“Sigrid! Have you heard from her? Is she alright?”

“A few bruises and light injuries. Nothing these guys can fix.” He made a light nod towards the door. Outside, two Bureau mages was guarding the entrance. “They got the bad guys though. Question is what happens next.”

“Why? Did something else happen?”

Ragnar leaned forward on the bed’s side and looked into the floor. “Apparently, this Yagami girl went behind her superiors’ backs and they obviously didn’t like that. I don’t know what will happen to her.”

“But my sister will return, right?

“She will. Don’t worry.”

She gave him a warm smile. “Thanks.”

While Angelika fell back to the warm embrace of the bed, Ragnar went back to the living room to catch a few hours of sleep. Neither of them heard the helicopter passing overhead on its way to the Ground Forces HQ to unload its cargo, and later be the one to transport them somewhere else.

*

“This is fucking unbelievable! What are they; kids?!”

Sergey Nikitsky threw his hands in the air and strafed around inside the office. Lieutenant-General Ann Yinhang followed him with an irritated stare.

“Stop shouting inside my office, Captain. Whether you like it or not, this is how the situation is now and you are going to make sure the previous events don’t repeat themselves.”

“So that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Call in a decommissioned officer to take care of it so the Bureau doesn’t lose face to the public.” Sergey shook his head. “This was a major fuck-up, Lieutenant-General. No offense.”

“None taken; I’m well-aware it was a fuck-up, but what’s done is done, so kindly shut up. The Lieutenant-Colonel will be reprimanded appropriately and she will also lose all jurisdictions in this matter.”

“That wasn’t what I meant…” Sergey said and scratched his head, staring at the cityscape outside the window, suddenly regretful.

Yinhang put away the papers on her desk, folded her arms and vaguely smiled at him. “You had high hopes for that girl didn’t you?”

“She had the expertise and experience to go far. Way far.” He turned around to face her. “I always thought her heart would come back and bite her in the ass. Bleeding fool…”

“I’ll see what I can do to lighten her punishment.”

“Thanks, but don’t lose sleep over it. She will have to deal with it the best she can.” He leaned against the wall next to the window with his arms folded. “So what is it I’m supposed to do? Besides taking charge of the… off-worlders.”

Yinhang brought up her panel and scoured through the document she had been briefing Sergey about.

“After your partner reports in, you’ll be escorted to the spaceport where a warship is waiting. You’ll then transport the off-worlders onto the ship and head for a destination you’ll be informed about on your way.”

“You can’t be a little more secretive? You haven’t even told me who my partner is.”

Yinhang chuckled. “Welcome back to the world of military politics, Sergey. Those five years were quite a vacation, huh?”

Sergey was about to say it had been a boredom only countered by watching paint dry when the door reported another visitor. Yinhang acknowledged and opened it. A tall woman with white hair strode in, wearing an officer uniform. She had a determined face, that of an loyal officer, and her sharp blue eyes looked straight ahead.

“Sofya Morgan reporting, ma’am.” She made a short salute as she stopped in front of Yinhang's desk.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Sergey said, drawing the attention of Sofya who hadn’t noticed him in the room.

“Sergey! What are you doing here?” A big smile erupted over her face as she recognized him. “I haven’t seen you in two years."

“Yeah, about that…”

“Alright, alright, spare the pleasantries to later,” Yinhang said, standing up behind her desk. “You’ll have enough time to talk on the trip.”

“Trip?” Sofya asked.

“You didn’t tell her, didn’t you?” Sergey mumbled.

“Sofya Morgan, you are to accompany Captain Nikitsky on a mission, as I’m hoping you’ve been told. The trip itself will take a few days and you’ll get more information on your way.”

“Yes, ma’am, that's what the message told me.”

“Good. Captain, your transport is waiting downstairs.” She gave Sergey a teasing grin. “Have fun.”

“Oh I sure will, Lieutenant-General. Off-worlders are a favorite of mine,” he responded, the whole sentence drenched in sarcasm. He nodded at Sofya to follow him.

*

“What happened to you two years ago?” Sofya asked, enjoying the comfort in the black military issue sedan driving them towards the spaceport. Outside the window the cityscape of Cranagan flew past beside the highway, the sun slowly passing through the buildings.

“Things… didn’t go so well.” He had his arm on the sideboard and stared outside. His black coat lay neatly at his side and the reflection in the window made his mustache and beard look almost menacing.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Sergey. Do you mind telling me?”

“No, but you’d be better off not hearing.” Sergey expected some kind of protest, but Sofya just nodded her head and changed the subject.

“Thanks for keeping contact with me the years before by the way. My dad and I are still not on the same page regarding things…”

“Like your work?”

“Amongst other things, yes. Not the most important though.”

“Religion,” Sergey said and sighed.

“Yes, that.”

“Old Ramon never did agree with me about such things either, at the rare times we discussed it. Always changed the subject.” He looked at her, taking her in. It had been a long time they had seen each other. “Although I do wonder, how was desk work during these years?”

“Right back at you, Sergey. Boring. However, I do prefer having a job than being decommissioned.” She got silent for a few seconds. “I’m sorry it had to turn out like that.”

“Don’t apologize. It is what it is.”

Sofya chuckled and shook her head. “You’re the same Sergey alright.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe…”

[XenahortCharybdis]

And...

I'm back, with a little something...old-new.

A rewrite of an old frankenstein, and a patch-on.

Enjoy.

The Hessian Cadmus
~The Duology's Second~

Spoiler for Prologue:

The Hessian Cadmus
Prologue:

The scent of the poppies never changed.

From field to bittersweet emerald field they brought their offering of ichoric pallor to the wind’s altar, falling as they fell silent in memento mori like the tears of heaven in impassioned answer, filling all there with a sense of comfort, of solace even in griefs heart-graven.

Overrunning the hills, they hemmed the mounds and tiny cenotaphs in, leaving them floundering in a sea of crimson red. Red, red as though they themselves had taken upon the souls and lifeblood of the fallen, waving in their steads a banner high, proud and yet unassuming, a solemn testament to lives once lived.

And so, in such a place, those tiny, inglorious blooms seemed like the most beautiful things in the world.

But then again, they were always second to geraniums in your eyes…

…Weren’t they, old man?

The irony, Ethel Deschantes scoffed to himself, at himself; the irony indeed. He’d never given much thought or heed to flowers before, and yet here he was, making ode to the flowers of death’s remembrance. But it was the least he could do, a decent respect at least for someone who loved and cherished nature’s little beauties to the point of irrationality.

Hate to say it, but it’s a little late to change your view now…

Master and pupil they had been, commander and subordinate. But friends they were also, even if they were not kindred spirits, for indeed, two so close could not have been more different.

But in eternal sundering they had gained at least one fresh similarity: a common truth, and a common goal.

Lieutenant General Antoine Guillemere Gracia
Commander, I.S.I.S.
Loved and Remembered By All His Men.

~Acta Est Fabula~

A goal for which, as he noticed with a brief inclination of his head aft to portside, he was about to be joined by others. One lone figure, to be exact, its legs taking their own pace to cover the distance between them. “Hey, so it’s you again, old fogies. What’s up?”

The figure did not remove the droopy hood that obscured its facial features. The voice that came forth was also somewhat detached, clanging hollow with metallic distortions. A voice transformer, perhaps. Cautious people… “Your guess is good. We’d preferred to have come down together, but…”

“Don’t bother. You three bigwigs pressurize me.”

“Pressure? Running around the known dimensions on what may be the craziest solo chase of all time is probably more pressurizing, no?”

“If you say so. Your two companions are going to be a pretty relaxing affair in comparison.”

“So you noticed?”

“My comrades are known to me from miles out. But if I know you lot, your ilk doesn’t come here to do grave sweeping. If this is just about me…spit it out fast.”

“More like to toothless nagging this may sound to you, but I must warn you again: have you given enough thought to your actions, such as this…mission of yours that you have most recently accepted included, to realize that they are followed through with in great risk? Could we not perhaps have waited for a better opportunity? The Bureau could always use an excellent operative –free agent though you claim you are– like yourself for a little longer.”

Ah, the consideration of Risks, the need for Patience: valid concerns, to be sure. There was no downfall so common as a charge rashly ordered, no defeat so bitter as a stratagem misread. But there was a limit to which patience would bear fruit: a limit to when one could just sit back and let the cauldron of witches simmer. Some delays were delays overmuch; at times it was better to deploy first, and then decide what to do.

“No, that is impossible – and not hardly the most important thing. You would know that better than I: though the snake is startled by stray strokes in the tall grass, the big fish disappears swiftly if there is no bait.” And so he would always play the patient angler, baiting them till their hand spilled over, right where he could see them.

“As relentless as usual, aren’t you?”

“I have to be, you know?” Reaching down to the marble slab on the ground, Ethel picked his fur jacket off the ground and slung it over his shoulder, all the while facing the other speaker with his back. “He was prepared to die so that others would not…And I will equal, nay, more, better the instruction if necessary, as far as will be necessary, you can count on that.”

Yet, truly, only fools would go into such a place alone…

…and he was no fool. But that would remain unsaid today.

“That is my resolve. And as for yours?”

“Rest assured that if we gave you a commission, we will complete ours. Antoine’s granddaughter shall, in time, sit upon the chancellery of the Round.”

“That is but the first step. We do what we can; for what we cannot do, we may only watch and wait. Even the smartest of schemers must battle in the open some time. And then we shall see whose plots were better woven.” As he spoke, he slipped the jacket on, while making ready to leave, but even as he finished, and seemed ready to leave, the Admiral spoke again through the covering of that veil, a final attempt at delaying his departure.

“There is no dissuading you, then?”

“Definitely not. And if you will excuse me now, I seem to have an appointment unannounced to keep.”

“Aye. Good luck, Ethel.”

“Keep your luck to yourselves…the living need blessings, not the dead.”

With that they parted, a clear though reluctant understanding reached: for him, it would be a night of anything but silence. Not for the next few minutes, at the very least: almost on cue, his other two visitors began their approach.

One of the former duo picked up speed when just over six rows parted them, outpacing her partner by quite a distance before reaching him first. He didn’t need to be in such close proximity to identify her, though. The description he’d first ever been handed down of her still applied, to the very last letter, though the sheer accuracy was not as an unnerving an experience as it was the last time.

“Can’t miss her, dude. Top two buttons down, no starch applied to her shirt since probably god-knows-how-long-ago, a tie a raw recruit would be abashed to be seen dead in, khaki three quarters, flowery flip-flops, and a hairdo right out of hell’s last circle…or maybe the wrong side of the bed. It’s all the same anyway, eh?

Oh yeah, and she has…One…two…five…maybe seven hairclips?”

On closer inspection, perhaps that last line would have to be scratched, for no less than eight of those barely functionary devices now held her hair precariously in place, although the addition of that excess one seemed not to deter various rebelliously tufts of hair from sticking out here and there, spiting gravity and the wind that now grew apace once more.

Ethel sighed. “You know, the old man would be disappointed in you. Your hair’s still a total jungle even with that extra holding it in place.”

“Whatever.” Misha Sentre, Senior Naval Adjudicator frowned at him. Clearly, she was not hoping for a reprimand, no matter how friendly, on such a grave occasion as this. She fumbled around a little with her right hand, before producing a small bouquet of flowers from the inside of her long-coat. “I suppose this is appeasement enough?”

“Talk to him about it. I’m not his agent – I’m not even his undertaker.”

“Yeah, hell, like I said. Now shove it and shove off; a woman needs her privacy.”

Fair enough. He gave way and turned his back on their grouse of a ex-second-in-war as she passed through. Even calloused hearts deserved their opportune rain when they came; emotions like those that welled up within them at moments like these flowed better as unwatched streams. “Lively, isn’t she?”

“‘Still horrible at lying’, is what I would say, but if you say so.”

Two large arms extended in a light shrug, as if to say ‘well-I-don’t-know’. The formerly nonchalant air that would before have lingered briefly was all but gone, though. Meteoric ascendancy, albeit in the long shadow of a former giant, did change people after all, both in their appearance of manner, and manner of appearance: his wan smile did little to hide the new lines that had encroached upon his face since their last meeting.

Splendid and fair indeed was the evening serenity, but coy deception it was to them, or perhaps, more leniently described, the calm before the storm, which the sight of comrades standing together there in a field awash with zenith hues of ochre and crimson did little to alleviate. Realism was a harder truth than fantasy, but the easier to part with.

The man spoke for them both, in that helpless shrug, and in his smile. That bitter, bitter smile. “Well, if the next-to-highest authority in the Bureau won’t stop you, then I guess we shouldn’t bother, eh?”

“You guys would have had a better chance at scoring on me than they ever would have at least.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Doubtless all three of them knew what ulterior purposes their meeting could serve. They would speak naught of it, though. There was no use in adding yet another thread to an already tangled web of gordium knots, whether they were yarns without, or yarns within. So nothing did they say, though surely their hearts burned with the words. All too well did they know what burdens lay on them for it.

Even Misha did not turn around, choosing instead to hide the state of her face, and the shape of her heart. Truly, had the gravity of the atmosphere finally fallen. “Ethel…you’d best leave soon. Everything’s already in place.”

“Efficiency, eh?”

“Shuttup. Just go thank that blockhead over there, and scram, kid. You’re going to be late.” Judging by that unceremonious fashion in which she pushed his attempt at humouring her away, he wasn’t going to get any further for the evening – he didn’t have much left to waste, by the look of it.

One step forward, then two, and swiftly, he passed them all by.

“She’s bad at lying, eh?”

“Hell, aren’t we all?” Ethel scoffed. “But you know…”

“What?” The man turned, cocking his head to the side to face him.

“…I owe you my thanks, Gil. Take care of the kitties while I’m away, yeah? I’ll scratc-”

“Heh. Just go. It’ll make things easier for everyone.”

“…I will.” He bit his lip – and never looked back another time.

Further and further away he walked, accompanied by none, drowning in the solitude of sunset. The smell of the poppies grew fainter, and with their silent departure the weight of the world returned, insinuating itself into whatever gaps were left behind by the fading memories of that brief repose.

Fade they did, also: all of them, one by one, some departing swiftly, but others lingering unwilling, as nostalgia’s slivers hanging on, until at last they too were forgotten. All gone, all lost, all slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

A bitter pity; a grim jest. But that was as he would have desired. An actor standing in the wings, preparing to make his debut, had no past to recall, no future to mull. He only had the present: the act, the persona, the character he played – himself; those he would take on completely, fully, all others discarding, and that was all.

All.

The prelude has ended.

Now let’s get this show on the road.

Spoiler for Chapter 0:

The Hessian Cadmus
Chapter 0:

One really would have to be a saint, or a really lucky man, to not utterly loathe the frequent manpower shortages that seemed to occur ever so often these days.

Just the other day, he'd heard it over a few drinks with a kohl-eyed Manpower Division legman: the 12th Ground Division complaining about missing a couple of sappers when their rosters had looked pretty fine on paper a few weeks ago. A closer inspection by the relevant authorities revealed that it had not, as most people would have anticipated and otherwise dismissed it to be, been a simple matter of negligence. Some poor fool had spilled the beans that the figure had been faked on purpose, and now a shitstorm was being kicked up in a teacup over what the activists claimed to be a mismanagement of human resource.

One talker's all it ever takes to blow the whole week dead in the water for those lads. You’ve got to pity those lowly joiners: Good people, most, probably signed up to for some peaceful pen-pushing clerical job that wouldn’t get them shot to pieces every fortnight or so.

But by some good chance, he was currently stuck in one of the two groups of people who could never be too displeased about a shortage on the human resource side – those who didn’t care, and those who didn’t have to care.

“As your inaugural mission as a Special Commissioner…well, you know the drill: you will have to form this unit of seven people, yourself included, by yourself. Do not, however, regard this to be an intentional blockade we are putting in your way, as we have made a special provision for this, as we normally do: as long as the person involved is not currently assigned to any long-term objective of importance above Orange Level as listed in the Annex A-12 Clause 7, you will be able to recruit them, any official resistance notwithstanding. We will make the necessary arrangements.”

Anyone with some experience with personnel dealings would know what Annex A-12 meant for such a task as this one: to quote an old Enforcer rights statement, it could be condensed to simply mean ‘If you can’t get him, it means he’s at war, bought the farm, or is on Death Row.’ – the ones marked by Chera’s lidless eyes and her chosen dead were the limit of his free choice, which didn’t mean much in practical terms.


That the brass was willing to bend over backwards for the team formation spoke volumes about how important the selection really was, though, but Clyde Harlaown wasn’t particularly pleased about the empowering provisos in the assignment that placed him right smack in the middle of the latter group. It was a potentially upsetting right he had been given, especially to the already understaffed Ground Forces who would probably bear the brunt of any other selection of a Special Commissioner’s unit.

And while it’s a comfort to know that there are only five of these SpecComms in the TSAB, feels like right shit, giving those overworked fellows another week of paperwork chain-gang hell...

“Thinking about your new command?” A familiar voice, cheery like refreshing crystal water, verdant and calm, called him out of his lachrymose reverie. He had never been particularly good at driving except for the kind that was required of madmen and soldiers, and while that was sufficient it didn’t beat being chauffeured around by someone else–

“Yeah.”

“It’s just too bad I won’t be active, mmm?”

“Ah, you break my heart…and it’s a downright shame I can’t spend time with little Chrono either.”

–and definitely not by one’s wife.

“At least…you don’t kick me, or take ages to sleep.” Lindy Harlaown, a fellow Enforcer, his XO-PA-PRO multitask hybrid, and (thus far) inconveniently six months pregnant, managed a rather painfully choked grin at the sudden activity; he grimaced too, the only thing that made him feel bad about her having volunteered for it in repatriation for not being able to do anything else was their common paranoia for their children, born or unborn, and all its implications.

“But seriously, I’m jealous of him, damn it: he’s going to get all your time these few months…and we haven’t decided what to name this young lady yet either.” He threw up his hands. Rising up the ranks resigned one to a lot of things that no sane person, let alone a sane father, would honestly desire. “Such a failure you have for a husband…ah, me.”

“Don’t block the rear view mirror, please.”

Another exchange of looks; his a look of embarrassment at the unnecessarily dramatized gesture, and hers a teasing glare with a touch of seriousness befitting the risk involved in not spotting potential tailgaters. Sheepishly, he retracted the two offending limbs without further argument. “Sure you don’t need me to drive? I can do nicely without any of those mirrors.”

There was some truth to that, although, as he would admit in hours more inclined to the use of straightforward honesty, the title of ‘Blind Drifter’ was as much a pejorative phrase reserved for those who crashed and burned more than they drove, as it was an honorific, an indication of the many feats of vehicular travel that he had pulled off in his time in spite of being afflicted by that miserable, manhood reducing malady of simply being unable to drive at any acceptable, legal standards. He could drive, of course, he told himself often. Just not the way people wanted him to.

“No, I fear you enough in broad daylight; we’re way past midnight here…and we’ll both have to get used to me driving anyway.”Indeed, Clyde thought bitterly to himself as he heard the traces of an ailing despondency in that line. There was a silver lining to every cloud, but nonetheless the looming black nimbus tower would always have to be faced first before the lustrous gleam could be seen on the horizon.
He hated that too.

Seeing his distress, Lindy flashed a wide smile. That denotes a change of topic, or I don’t know her. “And anyway, who’s this person you’re going to see tonight?”

“What if I said I was meeting with another woman?”

“…”

Number one tactical mistake of a man would be to mention participating ladies first when talking about a meeting agenda: he quickly appended that statement. The storm clouds were brewing a little fast above the driver’s seat…

“H-hey, I was kidding, honest! It’s a guy-”

But to no avail: a wild turn ensued as his reply, throwing him into the left side of the car with a jarring crunch so resounding he could’ve sworn he’d broken a rib or two. He hadn’t, of course, which was a pity: now he not only lacked the high ground, but also any complaint to. Women…they never seemed to get bored of starting arguments that they was fated to win from the beginning; as a matter of fact they all seemed to enjoy the gender-based sleight of hand –if he could have his way with that idiom, he would have brought it up a notch to a sleight of deck in the case of his own wife– whatever shuffle they began with unfailingly dealt the trumps in her favor.

She never got bored of pouting adorably either: even an expression of annoyance looked fair, if more than slightly disturbing, and that was some comfort.

“Oh, come now…you can’t still be doubting my orientations, right?”

Silence. The Cold War had just taken effect as of a few seconds ago despite his apparent concession, and she was enforcing it well.

“…Halloa, my iggy-wiggy rum-tum piffy poo~?”

It was his best off-key sing-song voice, but still, no response.

He applauded, silence for silence. Normally he’d have her laughing at the sheer limits of idiocy he was willing to break just to amuse her, but it got no purchase this time. Flicking out a small mirror from his left chest pocket, he proceeded to use the periscope view that it and the frontal mirror conspired to give of Lindy’s face. It’s a big thing, so I guess it’s no surprise that she’s so concerned.

Still, it’ll take more than that to contain this Red Scare. If it’s a war, then I’m determined to win it no matter what.

“Well, alright. If you must know…it’s Ethel-chan, my old junior from the Enforcers, way back when or something-”

A sharp laugh led into another wild turn, this time one that sent him flying head-first into the back of the driver’s seat this time with a ‘thunk’, and the rest of him tumbling into the gap between the first and second row of the seats; with his larger frame unable to fall right in nicely, he ended up sprawling, his four limbs splaying awkwardly outwards, upwards and all over the place.

“Ow-ch, that was my nose! And what in the blazes is so funny?”

She ignored him, though, and just continued giggling girlishly to herself, while mumbling something unintelligible that only came out in a fashion resembling some shadow of clarity after another half a minute. Not that he was complaining; the sight of him extricating himself was made all the less humorous at his expense by the fact that her eyes were closed in her laughter. He’d rather she continued laughing anyway.

At last getting a grip on herself, Lindy wiped away a single tear as she prepared in advance for another tight corner. “Ha, ha…so it really is him, then…We haven’t seen him in ages, have we?”

“Oh, don’t you start about him almost being like family or some crap like that – we haven’t been in contact for four freaking years. Family, my foot.”

Damn. His nose hurt like hell. So much so that he was too busy suppressing its throbbing pains to notice a pair of eyes arching upwards, affixing their gaze upon on his image in the rear view mirror.

“Tell me. Why do you and oddballs seem chronically fated?”

“I don’t know…Hmmm, maybe it’s because I’m an oddball too,” Clyde rationalized as he, with some effort, righted himself and proceeded to wipe the dust off gingerly. A tentative touch down the bridge of his nose came away clean: at least it wasn’t broken. She said nothing else – probably agreed with that admission a little too much for his liking. “Didn’t you marry me for long enough to know that, or notice that you’re one too?”

“Ha!” A snort, and then renewed silence prevailed between them, but she was at least somewhat more relieved now. He, too, heaved a somewhat contented sigh. One session of argumentative banter a day kept couples close, or so some aberrant sages held; he had always been a big fan of them, and at times even held himself pridefully accounted among their exclusivist number. Abberant as he believed himself to be, though, the constant disquiet was fast turning into an unbearable trend of unquiet.

Actually, why was it so quiet?

There was no time to ponder the question, though: the blind corner of his eye met that of the road for nary an instant, before his world practically did a complete horizontal about-turn. This time he was readier for it, and with a rather firm grip –thank heaven for trained reflexes– on the car door, he held out against that vented expression of annoyance.

“H-hey, hey, who’s the crazy taxi here, you or me? You trying to unseat me from my titled throne or something?”

“…Idiot.”

Maybe that common identity was why we tied the knot in the first place…But He-eh. I suppose neither of us would ever admit to that. Not like I’d take the lead-

Hmmm?

~There I go, there I go, there I go, there I go
Pretty baby, you are the soul who snaps my control
Such a funny thing but every time I meet you, I never can behave~

“~You give me a smile and then I’m wrapped up in your magic-”

“…How long are you going to keep him waiting?”

[Caller: Ethel-chan.] He glanced at the vibrating cell phone from which a soulful tenor voice oozed its soothing charm, a silky nebula crossing the universe between the three seats and two.

One of his favorite tunes, that one. “Oh, give it a while more…~There’s music all around me, crazy music~” Couldn’t ever resist singing along to it either. The phone call could wait a bit, at least.

“…Idiot…”

~Music that keeps calling me so very close to you…~

Tires burned against mortar and gravel as the car came to a swift but nigh noiseless halt, interrupting his joy of the moment. Geez. What was it this time?

“Clyde.”

Clyde Harlaown duly popped his head forward-

“Hmmm, what’s up, Lin-”

-and was caught cleanly by a pair of incoming lips right in his own. Involuntary, his eyes snapped shut, and off guard, he gave in, not unwillingly, allowing himself to be pushed back into his seat. But the weight of two pressed in only lightly against him, and advanced only tentatively with the difficulty of moving with her uncomfortably bulky figure.

~Turns me your slave…~

My, my…Reaching out with an arm curving inward, he lifted her up and drew her closer within his bosom, seating her upon his open lap even as he leaned in, gently pushing an errant strand of hair aside, his hand stoking fire without on flushed cheeks to match their kiss’ flame. …whatever will you do without me?

An eon passed in those brief moments before they pulled back, and his opening eyes revealed as he leaned back into his seat cushion the widest, most radiant smile that she’d shown the whole evening, a smile that seemed to only increase in its simple splendor for the caress of the pale waxing moonlight. “That was romantic of you.”

And damn, did she really know how to make him smile too. “You too, you know? That was a surprise…”

“Thanks. Now pick up, or you’ll be hung up soon enough.”

“Look who’s talking…”

He grumbled, but reached for it anyway-

-only to have the line go dead on him, without warning at all.

-----------------------------------------------------------

At that very same instant, two hundred fifty two meters away from that, a single phone snapped shut.

“Electronic signal intercepted.”

“Begin tracing to source.”

Rapid bursts of clattering, the sound of hands on fire blazing across ergonomic hardlight tabs, their syncopated rhythm backed by the low treble hum of static, interspersed with atonal klaxons. Furious it was, but also in volume fading, a falling action, a decrescendo into rising certainty.

Then, silence reigned for an instant, before a voice broke through the background with the prognosticated conclusion. “Affirmative…Alright, we have their position: E.T.A. thirty seconds from your vantage, and counting. Good work with the interception, by the way; looks like we’ve got them at a nice time too: she’s taking him out for a spin by the looks of it.”

Under cover of twilight shadowed tree and bush, two rows of white teeth bared coldly glinting, their hoar white sheen staining the forest with the cold sweat of trepidation. The air was tense, heated to boiling over.

The chilly breeze now almost seemed still, the wind waiting with the bated breath of one enthralled.

Indeed, the thrall of the hunt.

“Cool. So am I green?”

And even now, the thrall’s face twisted into a half smile, half-snarl. That look was most worthy of their kind, ruthless, clinical bloodhounds. Anything less would have been a disgrace to their kind for sad, unworthy mis-imitation. The stalking chase was a gift to be savored, cherished, and held sacrosanct – and that face, that visage that sneered at danger, at risk, at the foe, was only the first fruits of its demanded ritual offering.

“You’re green. Just try not to overdo it, Red One. You-who-know might be angry.”

Warped facial curves twisted murderously deeper inward, twisting in its turn every vowel and consonant that came forth now hard-bitten from pursed lips. “Maybe I should overdo it…just to piss him off.”

“That’s not a good idea-”

“Oh, dammit…”

That was the second last that was ever heard from the headphones, for in the next instant, it was sent hurtling headfirst by an angry hand into the nearest large tree, where it barely evaded the fate of splitting by eventually striking the bark sidelong: nonetheless, it fell into the thicket below with a few last bursts of death-rasp static.

“…just shut the fuck up already.”

Now rid of that annoyance, Red One cut with silent steps a swift path through the dense undergrowth with nary a sound escaping, save the barely audible rustle of shaken leaves, a lithe shadow blending in with the surrounding darkness, embracing night’s nature and in turn being enshrouded in its aegis, even as the very edge of one of that highroad’s many hairpin turns closed in.

Right at the blind corner – a perfect position.

No one would see it coming fast enough to react. When turning such a corner, even the best drivers would have to concentrate fully on negotiating the ruthless terms of the terrain and its metal guardians, idling by threadbare. There would be no time for scrutinizing woodcraft, even those of less subtle nature than the ones erected to befuddle the eyes of the beholder.

So there, the hunter waited. Waited for the prey. Wait, and watch. That had always been their task, the most agonizing preamble, the longest prelude.

But like every agonizing wait, it was quick to be over. Where all was once dark but for the wan, sallow orange of the streetlights, a blazing corona wrapped its glaring, garish swath around the face of stone, illuminating an increasing expanse of trees to the right, seeping through every nook and cranny between bark, branch and leaf from dual nimbuses that shone through whiter than white.

They were here.

Arching forward, Red One coiled up, insidious, practiced, taut and quivering like a pulsating bowstring full-drawn, mentally counting down the seconds to the point of impact even as the oncoming vehicle drew inexorably closer.

Three.

Two. No, not yet…still too early. Just a little more…

All four wheels shifted, the painful screech born of speed and friction resounding through the woods. The full-front profile began to pull away, just a little to the left. Rubber burned, and then a swerve, inanely tight, transiting fast into the drift.

One.

“Red One…”

...here we go.

“…Commencing hunt.”

Spoiler for Author's Notes::

I.S.I.S.: Stands for the Interdimensional Strike and Intervention Specialists, also nicknamed the TSAB's 'Foreign Legion'. Originally formed about seven years after the ascendancy of the conglomerate that would form the Bureau on Midchilda, it incorporated staff from Core and Rim Worlds to form a mobile 'peacekeeping' force. Of these, one of the most renowned was Force Sigurd, which was under the command of Lt. Gen Antoine Guillemere Gracia. However, following the Third Naval Reconstruction Act, it was absorbed back into the Navy wing of the TSAB, while hitherto it had functioned as an independent.

Acta Est Fabula: Taken from the phrase "Acta Est Fabula, Plaudite!" - the play has ended, applaud! - which was said to be the last words of the Roman Emperor Augustus. In the modern dramatic usage of the phrase: it refers to a life cut short untimely.

Naval Adjudicator: A sub-term for Senior Investigators working in the Navy. Usually, this term is only used when they are responsible for overseeing Investigations within long-haul assignment units: in Misha's case, this unit was originally Sigurd Force, and she was later reassigned to the Seventh Naval Fleet Specialists. It should be noted that the Adjudicators by-and-large had Enforcer history some time in their earlier careers.

The Song Clyde's Singing: It's called 'Moody's Mood For Love': a saxophone solo by the jazz saxophonist James Moody to the song 'I'm in the Mood For Love'. Lyrics were added later on by Eddie Jefferson in a songwriting style known as vocalese - a.k.a. lyrics being written into a song of which the melody was originally meant solely for an instrument. My personal favorite would probably be the version by Brian McKnight, Patti Austin and Take 6 - but then again, I'm probably biased because I love Take 6.

Spoiler for And So...:

The day is saved, thanks to the Powerpuff Girls!

Just kidding.

OC Profiles; Coming...Eventually...

[JamesEdwards]

Originally Posted by XenahortCharybdis

And...

I'm back, with a little something...old-new.

A rewrite of an old frankenstein, and a patch-on.

Enjoy.

The Hessian Cadmus
~The Duology's Second~

All I got to say at the moment is, "THE SHOW MUST GO ON!"

[FlameSparkZ]

Originally Posted by AtomicoX

This serves as a sort of Prologue (quality might be lacking) for the character of Project V. I'm not entirely sure what I'll do with her, but she have a high chance of tying in with Wallachia.

Spoiler for The Empty Shell Searching For Answers:

*snip*

Heh, nice
This reminds me of the first Alien movie...except everyone gets killed in this one

[Evangelion Xgouki]

I RETURN....for now >_>

If you didn't know, Christina Vee will be a Guest of Honor at the convention I work for this weekend. She is the english VA for the befriender herself, Nanoha. If there are any messages, pics, etc that you would like me to pass along to her from Outer Cadia, please send them my way and I will be sure to give them to her at the convention. As I am working it, the deadline will be Friday, January 29 at 10 am Pacific Standard Time (PST).