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    Default [M] The Throne of Gods (IC)

    This is Rated M for violence, blood, gore, language, nudity, sexual content, and contradiction of religious beliefs that might be considered blasphemy outside of creative context.


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    Prologue: Death of the King

    A star exploded, creating a supernova that completely consumed a galaxy. The King of Gods, Suriyel, sighed. He was staring at the rectangular miniature model of the multiverse. The supernova occurred approximately 112 trillion years away from the planet Earth and its human inhabitants.

    Suriyel chuckled at the many names the humans have called him. Zeus, Odin, and Jupiter are a few of many examples. However, he has always been acknowledged as the king. Ever since the Throne of Gods has been made and the Five Monarchs were created, Suriyel has kept a watchful eye upon all the realms.

    He guided Luthious to become the angel of order. Luthious represented the goodness of every heart. Unity between all was represented, and the weak were protected and the lost were saved

    He guided Harku to become the symbol of wisdom. Harku lead his gods with grace and always encouraged them to go beyond their limits... To achieve their true potential.

    He guided Selrina to become the beauty of balance. Without one side, there could be no other. Selrina would enforce the equilibrium of all the realms and support the universal symmetry.

    He guided Malphas to become the image of pain. Malphas emphasized the importance of individuality by following one’s selfish ambitions. The suffering of others will only increase the drive and determination of identity, and bring them closer to oneness.

    He guided Baldramort to become the bringer of chaos. Baldramort became the bane of all sacred life. In the midst of chaos, however, is freedom truly represented. The lesson of disarray unleashes the power of one’s heart.

    But now... all Five Monarchs were gone. They disappeared the previous day from their respective realms, causing uproar everywhere. Suriyel knew where the Monarchs were at, but it was far too late to save them.

    Ever since the Throne of Gods has been made, Suriyel has kept a watchful eye upon all the realms. Not one insignificant detail has ever escaped him. However, he made one crucial mistake. He missed one small yet very large detail. The error that he has made has now has set his death in stone.

    The King of Gods sighed and turned around to walk towards his empty throne. Each step he took lightly shook the multiverse. The end of his time was approaching rapidly, but he did enjoyed the time of his rule and guiding every single one of his children. He was a little curious what would happen to him after death, but banished the thought. There was no point in worrying... as he was soon about to find out.

    “Don’t bother knocking,” Suriyel called out as he took his seat. He stared across his large room made of a divine material with a similar appearance to white marble. The large double set of pure white doors opened forth. “You may come in,” Suriyel was smirking.

    There was one last thing he could do before his death. After that... it would be up to his children to fix everything.

    Five minutes later, Suriyel was still sitting upon his throne. However, the blood of the gods, Aether, leaked from his body and stained his image with large golden blotches. The same blood covered his lips and seeped from his mouth. Yet he still sat with a smile on his face. The King of Gods has been slain.

    At that very moment, every single god knew that their king was dead. They didn’t know how or why... But they just knew. There wasn’t even enough time to weep tears. There wasn’t even enough time for anarchy to begin. There wasn’t even enough time for anybody to challenge for the right of the throne. All of the gods fell.

    On Earth, all of the scientists of the world were baffled by the sudden appearances of thousands upon thousands of falling stars. There had been no warning. They came out of nowhere Mass reports came in about multiple landings all across the globe.

    “Sir, what’s going on?” One of the scientists asked his boss.

    “I don’t know son, but this just ain’t natural.”

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

    Chapter 1: Fallen Stars

    There were many words that Zypher could describe his fall. Terrifying. Painful. Shocking. Falling through the night sky at an incredible speed had his adrenaline pumping, and the fear of the unknown wrecked through his mind.

    He had know idea how this happened. One minute, Zypher was standing within the glorious White City. The next minute, a dreadful feeling overcame his heart. He wasn’t sure exactly how he knew or why, but the King of Gods was dead. It was impossible. It was unthinkable. The Order’s beloved King has been watching over the multiverse ever since the birth of creation. There was no possibly way that Suriyel was dead.

    But this was living proof. Zypher was falling as a star upon the planet earth. He could feel his godly essence seeping from his body, leaving him. He was staring down towards the ground. Even though it was approaching rapidly, it was still quite far away. In his peripheral vision, he noticed many other gods around him falling around him. They were burning brightly in the sky just like him.

    How could the King of Gods be dead? How could the Throne be empty? Who had the power to slay the almighty Suriyel? Not even the Prince of Chaos or the Duchess of Pain had the power to defeat their lord, so who? All of these questions raced through his mind, he had no knowledge whatsoever on how to answer them.

    It seemed like forever before the ground was right before him. He quickly braced for impact, and Zypher crashes into the earth. Pain exploded all over his body as the materials of the ground bit his skin. When it was over, Zypher opened his blue eyes and stared up towards the starry sky. At the moment, it seemed like the worst was over. He grunts as he struggles to stand up and then examines himself for any wounds. Remarkably, he was unscathed. Perhaps the last of his immortal essence was used up to protect him from damage.

    He sighs heavily before glancing around, he was standing in the epicenter of a ten-feet deep crater. A few minutes later, he climbed out of the crater and fell on his knees, panting for breath. It was difficult to breathe after that surreal experience of falling. He glances at one of his hands, opening his palm. A small fire formed from his palm, and he frowns deeply. He could sense that his powers of godhood have greatly diminished. His immortality has been taken as well.

    Beforehand, the only way a god could die would be by another's hand. However, Zypher knew he now had the vulnerabilities of a human. He must eat, drink, and sleep in order to survive. Aging will be also be another hindrance if he can't find a way to return back home. There were probably countless other limitations that humans had he probably couldn't think at the top of his head right now.

    He stands up and looks around the area, he was in the middle of a grassy meadow. He took notice that it was around midnight and the crescent moon above was shining brightly. He felt the summer breeze around him. He wasn't used to a slight chill like that, and his body stiffened a bit. He continues glancing around, he was by himself. There were no other gods around him. At the moment, he had no clue what to do. He always looked up to his leaders and obeyed orders. He wanted to find Luthious especially, but he wasn't sure what exactly happened to the Noble of Order.

    This truly was a disaster. All Five Monarchs disappeared. The King of Gods has been slain. And now all of the gods have fell upon the earth.

    What was he suppose to do now? He clenches a fist in frustration, but then noticed the shadowy outline of a town up north. His eyes then widened slightly, as he noticed that a star quickly fell into that town. He heard the echo of the explosion, and Zypher quickly begins running towards it. Hopefully, it was one of his fellow gods that he could seek help from.
    Last edited by RedKayne; 06-27-2014 at 02:01 PM.

  2. #2
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    Iphos being the god of time had the mentality of someone who had all the time in the world, which technically he did. He sat back on a throne made of different clocks from different universes. While also being inside his own little pocket dimension. Yes it was a bit conceited, but what was the point of being a god if you couldn’t enjoy the finer things. In his fingers was a scale model of earth as he watched what the humans were up to. They were his greatest test experiments. No matter what he gave them they took it and improved upon it. He was the one to grant them fire, science and math. Without these things human’s wouldn’t have been anywhere near what they were. However there was still room for progression. Suddenly while watching the human’s Iphos felt a cold shiver rush down his spine.

    Looking up he felt as though the multiverse was weeping. “What could be happening now?” HE wondered before a certain thought bombarded his mind. The king is dead. Making a tch sound Iphos threw the thought away there was no way The king was dead. It should be impossible. However he never found out the answer to that question as the dimension he stayed in was ripped asunder. As his haven was destroyed Iphos blacked.

    When he awoke he found himself plummeting through the sky towards a snowy terrain. Gasping he snapped his fingers expecting to freeze time however he continued to fall. Staring at his fingers in disbelief he collided with the ground. The earth shook from his impact and where he landed a crater formed that was big enough to turn into a pond.

    Iphos’ chest shook as he took in oxygen for the first time in all of eternity. He had never wondered what it would be like to breathe however he knew the feeling now and found it quite annoying. Standing up he brushed dirt off of himself. Upon entry he had created so much velocity that the heat had completely destroyed his toga. Now he stood unceremoniously in nothing but a pair of underwear. The tattoo of the sundial on his chest stood out among his pale skin and gray hair. Looking up he felt odd as snow particles fell towards him however they wouldn’t touch his body. They’d just sort of move around him. Willing himself to do it he reached out and was able to catch a bit in his hand. The icy feeling bit into it before he dropped it to the ground.

    Walking out of the newly formed crater Iphos examined his surrounding and looking up into the sky he saw thousands of sparkles falling in different directions. Two of them however landed in the distance One flew straight into a mountain where an explosion could be heard and snow collapsing ontop of it’s location while the other flew straight into a frozen ocean. While his attention was diverted he didn’t notice the a jeep had pulled up and a somewhat elderly man wearing a thick jacket and even thicker pants walked towards him a shotgun in his hands. Upon the man’s head sat a hat with a star on it. “Are you ok sir?” The man asked as he put the shotgun away and walked towards Iphos. Turning his head Iphos acknowledged the human before his eyes widened. There was no feasible way that he had been made mortal. It wasn’t possible that he would now become apart of the world he had helped grow.

    “Come on son, I think we need to get you someplace warm before you catch frostbite.” The man said as he walked over to Iphos and loaded him into the jeep. Iphos had let the man do it however he strangely didn’t feel the cold. Being loaded into the jeep he just stared ahead shocked before a blanket was put over him. “That should hold you off till we reach the station.” The man said before he drove off towards a nearby city.


    Now we shall sit back and watch this Galaxy burn.


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    The Ural Mountains-- a cultural treasure of the Russian Federation, a veritable treasure trove of minerals and industrial resources, a geological feast for the eyes-- a colossal mountain range spanning from the immeasurably vast desolation of the Kazakh steppe to the bitter coast of the Arctic sea.

    Well, one less now.

    Jag slammed into the summit of the northernmost peak of the Urals with all the force of... well, of a god of war falling from the heavens and crash-landing into a mountain so hard the damn thing split. One second, she'd been attempting to enumerate all the fucks she absolutely didn't give about the death of the king of the gods, figuring it wouldn't make the vaguest hint of difference to her. The next thing she knew, she was hurtling from the cosmic realm of the deities down a trajectory that very clearly ended with an impending, unceremonious impact. And the next thing after that, she was trying to shove a goddamn mountain off of herself.

    Yeah, it was gonna be one of those fuckin' days.

    With much profanity, and a significantly greater degree of effort than she felt was merited by the situation, Jag managed eventually to extricate herself from the collapsed carcass of the mountain, which she absolutely didn't feel a whit of remorse for. Damn thing was a pathetic excuse for a 'mountain', anyway, she snarled silently as she furiously tore away at the wreckage of rock and snow that yet enveloped her form in a reprehensible duress. It's a goddamn molehill! she vehemently concluded, as at last she felt her hands excavate their way out into the biting winds carried on frigid air that whistled their own tune of desolation and bitter animosity above the ruin of the mountain. The rest of the war god followed shortly thereafter, her immense form displacing masses of coagulated snow and shattered chunks of rock as, with a final roar of fury and discontent, Jag rose to her feet, and at last beheld the fate that she was now to suffer.

    Everything was... everything was wrong. This was all... all just completely fucking wrong. A burning sensation of rage began to seethe within Jag, like a feral beast attempting to claw itself out of a mortal bastille-- yes, mortal! That's the crux of it all! All too mortal! Jag's fists clenched-- her teeth grit in anguish-- she began to pace obsessively as though she were the deity of neuroses-- it doesn't make any sense dammit what the fuck happened this can't be right im not a mortal i'm not this fucking wretch of a verminous insect no i can't be no i can't have lost everything i fought so hard to turn myself into this ISN'T REAL-- a burgeoning growl of incomprehension and uncontrollable wrath escaped her clenched teeth until at last she lost that last strand of clarity and it became a free, vehement howl as she slammed her fists again and again into the rubble surrounding her, producing little effect but for the further desecration of the husk of the mountain.

    But no. No, it was all too real. And so was the ravening.

    It had been gone. She hadn't known why, but-- well, no. No. Gone was not quite it. But it had begun to vanish. To... to dilute, its overwhelming, perpetual, eternal hunger for violence and destruction beginning to wane for the first time Jag had ever known it to. Before that, it had only ever gotten worse and worse, and she had only ever believed that someday it would... would reduce her to a husk. Bereft of higher thought. Of higher agency. Of self. Left with nothing but those urges to kill and maim. And then it had begun to vanish, and Jag had been uncertain of whether to rejoice or mourn in the passing of the one certainty she had ever known in existence.

    But now it was back. Familiar. Real. Agonising. And it demanded satisfaction. It demanded that she retake by force the power she had been stripped of.

    Forcing self-control upon herself-- repressing the fury and the misery and the loss and the confusion and the violence-- Jag turned away, and began to walk down the remnant slope of the mountain, waging an ill-fated war against the ravening tearing at every fibre of her being. She had to fight. She had to kill.
    Last edited by Vælling; 12-22-2013 at 07:11 AM.

  4. #4
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    Nothing. Was that really so much to ask for?

    Vantas sat cross-legged in an indefinite aura of darkness, mists of black and wisps of dark violet twisting like a ghastly ivy. His eyes were two pits of pure black, and behind him swirled an enormous portal of violet and darkness. The great plane of emptiness was bathed in complete and utter silence, muffled to the point that Vantas couldn't even hear his godly insides. It did not compare to the Void, no, far from it. But it was the closest that Vantas could reach to that perfect state of existence.

    And then, like the tolling of a clock at midnight, it was gone.

    And Vantas was falling.

    Falling? Falling to what?

    The next time Vantas opened his eyes, they were golden and pathetically human. Also, they were filled with water.

    With a calm gaze around the shadowed, empty waters that bathed him in cold, he began to swim for the hole in the ice directly above him. He knew exactly what had happened: the King of Gods had been struck down from his throne. Someone had destroyed the immortal, and so the gods were sent to Earth. Vantas had known of many who plotted to kill the King, but every threat was empty and blunt. Yet somehow, someone had succeeded.

    And that meant one thing to Vantas: opportunity.

    Emerging from the hole gasping for breath, the crimson-haired man pulled himself onto the thick sheet of ice over the frozen ocean. The cold was biting, yet tolerable for the time being despite being chilled to the bone. A god--even one hurled from the great celestials--was not bothered by such trivial things. His gaze locked upon the thousands of other fallen deities cascading through the terrestrial skies, and yet he noticed very few in his area.

    Countless gods have fallen upon this soil, every one with their own personal goals to achieve. Vantas squeezed the water out of his black overcoat, wringing it as dry as possible. Each of those fools seem to believe that they are correct, and that what they commit upon this Earth will be justified. All of them are wrong, and no matter the obstacle, I will always have a leg ahead to destroy that binding throne.

    For I am a god of nothing

    And I am a god of everything

    The only true god amongst us.


    With a flick of his finger's, an elegant lance appeared in his open hand. The weapon was slightly taller than the man at six feet and was crowned with a double-edged spearhead. The spearhead and the butt of the weapon were both midnight black, and tendrils of pitch wrapped themselves from both ends towards the center of the bone white shaft. Sticking the point of the lance into the ice, the man began to shuffle off of the ice towards a city whose buildings peaked over the trees on the coastline.

    And yet upon Vantas's face was a delightful, mischievous grin.

    "Well, then."
    Last edited by TheDoctor; 12-22-2013 at 07:50 AM.

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  5. #5
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    Danero was in his usual spot, looking down upon the human world. He sat with his head upon his hands, which was on top of his knees. He didn't know why he was always watching this strange world, but something in it fascinated him. Maybe the disasters? The never ending conflicts? The corruption? Or perhaps the pain? He was in that faction after all.

    He sighed, as time passed by, quietly as a kiss. He didn't know how long he stared at the blueish world, or when a bright city caught his eye. He didn't realize how he stared more and more intensely on the world, that was not his own. All he knew was, that all of a sudden, he felt a quake in time, and tears started running down his face. He didn't sob. He didn't feel the heavy stone of sadness in his core. He didn't feel anything. He simply knew. That the monarchs were gone, his duchess and her siblings, and Suriyel had been slain. He lifted his right hand up to his cheek, feeling the wet substance on his fingertips and confusion from finding it there. It had been decades since he had last cried, and he had almost forgotten the feeling. He sighed, and looked down upon the world known as Earth, once more.

    A sudden force seemed to grab him by the heart, as it pulled him down from his realm, away from his home. It felt as if it tried to pull the heart from his chest, as he fell down and down and down, with an incredible speed. He found it curious that this was the effect from the departure of their king. He had imagined it more like, fire raining from the sky and oceans colliding with the earth or something fancy like that.

    Danero watched as the world came closer and closer towards him, and he wondered how badly it would hurt when he hit. He probably still had time enough to create a ball of iron around him, but then again, he risked furthering the damage if he did so. So he continued his fall, stretching his body out till his arms reached for each corner of the world, as he fell.

    It did hurt. A little. But the sand was soft, and the waves rolled up, causing cool water to cover his body, as he laid down in the crater, arms still wide open. The water didn't cover his face, but the wet sand slowly started devouring his body, as if hungry for the power he held. He sighed, before sitting up, looking around. He recognized this place. He had watched it before. Maybe, deep down, his subconsciousness had made him aim for this specific spot. He didn't even know if he believed in that, but nevertheless, here he was. Danero looked down upon himself, to see if he had suffered any severe damage, and was pleased to see that he had not. That meant he didn't have to waste energy on recovering.

    "H- Hello? A- Are you alright?" sounded a weak female voice. It sounded as if she was close to crying, yet Danero couldn't fathom why. A light haired face peaked down at him from the sides of the crater with a look upon her face that was mixed between fear and worry. Danero sighed, standing up. He wasn't a god for nothing. He looked upon the girl, his expression careless as ever.

    "yes." He simply answered her question, before walking out of the crater, much to the disappointment of the sand, and he started walking for the city he saw. The world stopped, just for a second, but it did. The world went black, as if a playful child had turned off the switch, before it came back on, and everything span around. Danero blinked his eyes, confused to what had happened, before he realized himself on the ground yet again. He had fallen, yet again. Ironic.

    The girl ran to his side, not knowing whether to touch him and help him up, or just to look worried at him and ask questions. So she did a mix of both. She touched his arm, then removed her hand quickly as if she had touched a snake, then she grabbed it, and let go again, all while she kept asking "Are you alright?" or "Do you want me to take you somewhere?" and every now and then a "Where do you live?" dropped down into the flood of questions.
    Danero felt like he was going to pass out again from all the talk and waste of energy she let go, just because he fell. He then sighed, held his right hand upon her mouth and held a finger before his lips with the left hand. He didn't need to say anything, she understood the gesture, but clearly needed to force herself from asking and blabbering out again when he removed his hand.

    A star lit up the sky, as it fell down and exploded onto the city. Another lit, and did the same to a mountaintop, and Danero looked at each locations a few times before starting to wonder. Perhaps it wasn't just him who had been thrown out, after the death of the King. Most likely not, he felt stupid for even having thought that in the first place. But was it gods from other factions as well, or was it just the faction of pain? He thought to himself for a minute, before concluding that it was all the other gods as well. And then a thought occurred to him.

    Danero held up his hand in front of the girl's face, before he started. He felt the iron in the sand, as he had done before, and he felt the iron in her blood. But could he summon it still? So he focused his energy into the face of the girl, searching and calling for the iron within. He felt her blood reacting, and how it started searching for his palm, but before it got to move, he removed his hand and stopped. He didn't want to bother with a murder yet. He had discovered that he could still use his powers. Yet, they drained him way more than they had done before. Danero looked thoughtful for a minute, staring into nothing for a moment while thoughts collided inside his brain. The gods had fallen, and his powers had clearly become weaker, but did that go for all the other gods as well? Most likely, but if not, he should be careful whom he bumped into. It could end out badly, especially since he couldn't feel that protecting aura that normally surrounded himself, due to his immortality. He could probably get badly wounded, if not killed, and--

    His trial of thought came to an immediate stop, when the girl fell onto his lap. Her body was still and soft, as if she was sleeping, and it occurred to him that she had passed out. Of course, she was mortal after all. He probably should have thought about that before he moved the blood around in her veins. He sighed and leaned back. Nothing to do now than to wake for her to wake up. He wasn't going to move her, that was for sure, when he could spare energy by simply waiting for her eyes to open. So he laid down on his back, and looked up at the stars. Every now and then his eyes caught the movement of a falling god, and he wondered if they had been spared the pain of the crash, just as him.


    (oh mi gosh, that was a long post, I'll try to give some substance to everyone of my posts, but I really can't promise there'll be as much as in this one O.O)

  6. #6
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    Durga had been sitting in his humble domain when the King of the Gods fell. It was a fleeting tickle that whispered grave news into his ear before slinking away in a wisp of incomprehensible smoke. All of the gods were bound to their king in one way or another, and there would no doubt be terrible consequences for each of them to pay. The time that Durga spent staring out at his little world was both brief and infinite at once, and his heart sunk as he watched darkness eat away the horizon. Durga's domain was a silly place that few gods traveled. Thralls, humans without free will, lived in little villages that dotted the rural landscape, farming food for no reason, living and dying as his whims commanded. There was air and water and wildlife that most other gods of Order found superfluous to their existence. Even so, it was agonizing watching the false humans stare up at the almost instantaneous cataclysm of their world, their faces not even so much as flinching when they were wiped from the canvas of Elysium.

    The letter from Luthious was still crumpled in his hand, the cryptic message all too unlike his friend and leader. It was odd for the Angel of Order to send a message on something as quaint as parchment, not to mention the lack of grace applied to the golden filigree that comprised each and every letter. Luthious's written words were a work of godhood on their own, and while any human would regard the simple letter as a masterpiece without equal, Durga could see it as little more than a hastened scrawl.

    Keep them safe.

    Well this was certainly disconcerting... and Durga could perhaps sense the impending catastrophe before it even began. Though that might have just been simple intuition, or even imagination. What followed was real however, and Durga soon found himself falling, the White City flashing before his eyes as he picked up speed, as if propelled by a massive explosion of celestial energy. It was certainly no work of the gravity that now gripped him by his ankles and pulled him faster and faster towards the realm of the mortals. He could feel his godhood condense on his skin like droplets of Aether and flutter away as an intense heat built up around him. Finally he could see his destination, barely though, as his thick hair whipped around his face and obscured his view.

    The collision was deafeningly loud, but there was nothing but animals around to hear him. He could hear birds flutter out of trees in the distance as if lightning had struck. Even with the mighty impact, however, there was little more than a dent where he landed. Durga had fallen out of the sky enough times to know how to cushion his impact, though the act had drained him of what little divinity he had left. He had barely a moment to gather his bearings before another being crashed into the ground a only a few dozen yards away from him, sending earth and grass skyward in a mighty eruption. The impact staggered Durga, which frightened him, and a shard of rock cut his hand as he shielded his face from the debris. Mortal blood was barely visible, as the thick red liquid matted with the dirt. It stung... barely.

    After the cloud of dust had settled, Durga approached the crater cautiously, aware that an enemy may very well have fallen at his footsteps. Maybe he would have preferred an enemy, given what he saw. The god was obviously young and fragile, maybe only a hundred years old at most, and their body was bent and contorted in a fashion too gruesome to fully comprehend. Bones prodded through the god's flesh, some having ripped clean through, spouting ineffectual coagulants to heal the wounds. Durga recognized the residual energy as that of Grephus, one of many muses that called the plane of Mechanus their home. The god looked at him, still alive, barely alive, and his lips moved as if to speak. Of course no words could be formed with the injuries his throat had sustained, but Durga was nothing if not merciful.

    He slid down into the crater and clutched the small god's tattered body in his arms, channeling his powers to take on whatever pain he could to ease the muse's last moments. It was severe and immediate agony that coursed through every fiber of Durga's being, and he would never lie about that tears that welled up around his eyes from the pain. Of course, absorbing pain and healing wounds are too very different things, and Grephus quickly passed away from his injuries, leaving Durga with little solace in the fact that at least he did so with some semblance of comfort. He would have rather he not died at all, not that this was much of a surprise, but what was obvious to Durga was that it was not the fall that caused these injuries. These wounds were the result of something much more malicious than that. Grephus had been attacked mid fall, and if Durga were a god of gambling, he would wager that whomever did so would be landing soon with any other number of corpses.

    The intense pain quickly subsided, as there was nothing more Durga could do for the young god, and he staggered out of the crater both drained and confused. He drew in quick, sharp breaths to cope with the sudden lack of oxygen to his brain, and was just able to make out the shadow of a city in the distance. Of course, the more immediate buildings would do fine for shelter until he was able to regain his stamina. In the distance he could hear a sharp whirring sound, like a siren, and he knew somehow that he wouldn't want to be here when it arrived. His destination quickly became obvious as he walked, and Durga made a beeline for a nearby road, across which stood a tattered looking shack.

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    Spero

    The young goddess had only a single thought before she was propelled toward the planet known as Earth; a place where the humans thrived. She wasn't even in the least bit perplexed of the King's death, nor of the monarchs. She could, in utter honesty, care less. Her ideation of conquering that throne was her abrupt fixation. To think her selfish desires could finally become a reality was unfortunately compressed by what was currently in a state of happening, because plummeting at such a high rate basically vanished any other thought than the current event.

    Her body was burning, and she hit the earth with a great force. Her entire being was smoking as she made her way out of the deep pit she created. She was in excruciating agony, her clothes had been ruined for she was practically half naked. Once she was out of it, she glanced about her surroundings with heavy breathing. There were myriad green, darkened trees at every angle she looked to. The area appeared to be full of life. The night air chilly and unnerving.

    The Goddess of the Unknown and Unseen had no clue where she had landed. This was strange for her, at the very least she knew she was within a forest. She felt oddly weak and vulnerable... Almost human... She suddenly felt panic overcome her for a split second. Am I... Now mortal? On her knees she let out her left hand, palm up, and willed Melgrei before her; it took longer than it should have, but the seven foot blade came forth nonetheless within her palm in a swirl of ribboned and brightened colors. However, due to her weakened state, she could not wield it properly as she stood to test out how much her power had dwindled. It had weakened exponentially, much more than she would have liked. She sent her weapon away in another swirl of colors, and it practically melted into the palm of her hand. Her arrows had, shockingly, managed to stay intact; the quiver was slung across her back with only four arrows.

    This goddess, named days after birth as Spero, scoffed and cursed as she began her venture off into the dense forest, her body ached. The night air gave her chills, and the forest life did not help; for she knew little of it. Not knowing... This was an odd feeling for her. And she certainly despised it. She thought to her father, and for once she wished he were here to guide her. He knew the earth and its inhabitants well enough, where as Spero did not. He'd be pretty useful, but then again he would never approve of her mission and only bitch about it. He would know what she was planning in a heartbeat, perhaps he knew her too well...

    However, Spero needed tons to think about before making any foolish and rash decisions. Her first priority would be to search for another god, a god who possibly knew more about the human world... She did not necessarily like confronting random gods, but she had few options.

    Spero had been walking a good mile or two when she came into view of lights far off in the distance,"A decent place to start," her voice was like silk, but also had a monotone and dark sense to it.

    "You're what fell?" An unfamiliar voice. By pure instinct, Spero whipped around releasing her bow from her palm just as she had done with Melgrei earlier, and she pulled back an arrow, poising it directly at the dark figure of a man. The man didn't flinch, he appeared too busy trying to comprehend what he had just laid his eyes upon. Spero was not steady with the bow, her hands were shaking slightly due to her weakened state. The man seemed to at last see what was happening and yelped before lifting his hands and exclaiming,"Whoa whoa!" And then he stammered,"H-hey, I'm friendly, not gonna hurt you..." He waved his two hands back and forth rapidly as if somehow that secured his reasoning,"No weapons." He smiled nervously.

    Spero only realized he could not actually harm her, he was a mere man. She sheathed back her arrow and sent away her bow into her palm,"How long have you been following, mortal?" This worried her, if he had been following since the time of her fall... How could she not have sensed him?

    The guy was more perplexed by what he had just seen,"How the hell did you do that?" He was still a bit weary of her and stayed his distance, but this only annoyed her. She walked toward him to grab the front of his cloak and pull him down to his knees, never touching his skin,"I said, how long have you been following?" Her teeth grind together as the words were spoken.

    He grimaced,"Ah... Okay..." Spero now had a clear view of his face,"Since, since you crawled outta that crater..." His hair was dark brown and his eyes a hazel color, his facial structure sharp. She pushed him down and walked away toward the lighted place, but the man wasn't quite done. He had the audacity to continue his meaningless talk,"Are you an angel?" She ignored him. He caught up with her, his cloak removed,"Here, you can wear this." She could end his life, but somehow she did not feel the need to. Strangely enough, she was never the type of god to end a life because she wanted to. She still ignored him. He wasn't letting up,"Come on," he held out the cloak for her as she quickened her pace. Do all mortals act this way? She wondered growing tediously close to maiming him. He humphed,"It'll be here then until you decide to cover up." He patted the cloak and something told her he wasn't leaving her any time soon.

    For some queer reason, Spero did not mind this too much.

    "Thank you, Master."
    "You're welcome, My Padawan."

  8. #8
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    The fall had been sudden.
    Lanaei had stood in the meadow where she resided in Eden, the grass lush under her feet. Her whole body screamed at her. The words seemed to resonate through her ‘The King is dead’ She glanced around her at the stillness of the meadow. The sun was shining down on her and the flowers were in full bloom. Her eyes were wide with fear when she felt a slight tug, before she could fully register it, she was spiraling downwards towards the Earth below her.

    She screamed loudly, it felt as if something had gripped her around the waist and was dragging her backwards. Tears fell from her eyes as she clawed at the air, she watched as her home disappeared from view and she free fell towards the hard ground.As she neared the hard Earth below her, she noticed a lard greyish building come into view, as she spun in the air, she pulled her head to her stomach and braced for the incoming impact.

    Her body shot through the thin roof smashed through a wooden floor and then landed harshly on another. The air was taken from her lungs as the impact shuddered through her body. Forcing her eyes open , she saw the sun shining before her and it filled her with some small hope. She took a deep breath and winced, her chest burned.
    Gripping the splintered wood around her, she pulled herself wobbly to standing. Glancing around the room, her first impressions were that of dust and cobwebs. She noticed a thin slit of a window to her right. Panicking, she moved quickly and peered out of the small window to see green. She smiled and turned to see her shield pierced into the wood, with a frown she grabbed the metal and yanked it out of the ground and swung it over her back. A soft sigh of relief left her as she forced her body to the stairs, the ground felt cold and harsh against her bare feet. She let her hands trail along the walls as she followed the spiral staircase down to a large oak door.

    Pushing with all her might, she was assaulted by a cold breeze, while the sun shone, the air made the hairs on her arms stand. She was greeted by tall green grass and felt a small smile creep on her lips.
    She snapped her head upwards to the sky, searching for any hint of those like her. She could see smoke signs from where she fell and others dotted nearby. She took a deep breath and winced again, her hand fluttered to her chest as she felt the pain burn through her again. Turning she took in the large grey building behind her, it was falling apart and she frowned slightly, once a mighty piece of the landscape it was now hidden and slowly tumbling to the ground.

    The wind picked up her hair and it twirled around her and she felt the cold, she glanced down with wide eyes at her naked state. Blushing deeply, though no one was around to see her. She gathered her hair to the front, her back would be covered by her shield, she let the hair fall in its masses and cover her modesty.

    With pursed lips, she glanced up and noticed a nearby smoke trail, with a hand pressed to her chest, she moved into the tall grass. The grass seemed to bend towards her and she smiled softly, she pushed her way through the green and then yellow grass until she reached a grey road. The sudden change to cold concrete made her frown again. She jumped down to the road and shuddered as she made contact. Glancing upwards, she made her way down the center of the road, following the smoke trail above her.
    Last edited by Scottie; 12-26-2013 at 03:27 PM.

  9. #9
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    Eden was quiet. A gentle breeze coaxed the trees into song, but no birds joined the chorus that day. Perhaps that was Jaslyn’s first clue that something was terribly wrong. She lounged on a bench that had been expertly crafted by a druidic power long ago, likely before her creation. Like all of the dwellings and furnishings in the Paradise Garden, it was formed from the living wood, willed into existence without causing harm to the trees that bore it.

    The Goddess of Indulgence had been relaxing in the shade of the fruit trees when the creatures of the garden had gone silent. She lifted her piercing green eyes from the scroll she had been reading, feeling a sudden wrongness in the air about her. The animals in Eden had never feared her; she was as familiar to them as the grass they walked on, a part of their surroundings and no threat to their well-being. But the birds and hares and foxes that had been her company suddenly stopped their activities, sensing a change in the winds. Then, without warning, they disappeared.

    Disturbed, Jaslyn sat up, scanning the area for signs of trouble. For the length of a breath, all was calm.

    Then a suffocating feeling of loss shook her to the core and took the goddess’s breath away. Immediately, her heart knew. Suriyel, King of the Gods, was dead.

    Jaslyn was not one to become attached, or even friendly for that matter, but Suriyel had been…kind. She had greatly respected him, even been fond of him. As reclusive and wrathful as the mistress of indulgences was, he had visited her often and spoke to her as though she were cherished, if not necessarily an equal. She would miss him.

    But such thoughts wouldn’t come until later. For at that moment, Jaslyn felt as though the weight of the cosmos were suddenly pushing down on her. As she watched in horror, her beloved home--the beautiful paradise of Eden--began to slip away. Jaslyn seemed to fall through it, and suddenly she was plummeting from the heavens.

    The fall wasn’t the worst part. She could handle the pain and the anticipation of a rather rough landing. The worst part was the fear--fear of the unknown, fear of losing something precious, fear of what the future held. As she entered the earth’s atmosphere as a ball of flame, she experienced something she hadn’t in many centuries, maybe even a millennium: grief. That which was most precious to her was lost. Eden was gone, out of reach, and she couldn’t even begin to guess for how long.

    As if that anguish were not enough, Jaslyn felt a sensation completely alien during her long descent to the realm of humans. Despite its unfamiliarity, she somehow knew that it was her immortality. It was slipping away ever so slowly, taunting her, and she knew there was nothing for it. Amidst the flames caressing her flesh, she screamed. It was a lament, fueled by grief and rage, and it carried her violently to the earth.

    Jaslyn opened her eyes to a man standing over her, his fingers at her neck. He seemed rather shocked by her awakening, but was suddenly preoccupied when she grabbed him by the throat. She got to her feet, enraged by this mortal who dared touch her, and lifted him clear off the ground by the neck. She heard gasps and a female’s pitiful shriek; her eyes darted to the edge of the crater she appeared to be standing in, seeing humans gathered around it. They stared at her with awe, horror, disbelief, and everything in-between. She scowled at their ignorance, their stupidity. She dropped the man just as he was beginning to turn purple in the face, and noticed that she was stark naked, her gown having had burnt off during her descent. This in itself did not particularly bother her, but the fact that any mortal would lay eyes on her without her permission certainly did.

    She did not remember the impact, and quickly concluded that she must have been “knocked out”, as the humans would say. It was a warm, humid night, and her landing had woken many people as she had apparently landed in a relatively small town. Jaw clenched in anger bordering on fury, Jaslyn climbed out of the crater. After the fiasco with the mortal she had nearly suffocated to death, no one was terribly keen on getting in her way.

    Jaslyn looked to an elderly woman standing nearby who jumped a little when the goddess turned her piercing gaze on her.

    “Where can I find garments?” she snapped. The woman looked at her, uncomprehending. Jaslyn realized she was speaking in the tongue of the gods. It had been quite a while since she’d had dealings with humans.

    “I’m s-sorry?” the poor woman stammered. Jaslyn recognized the language as some form of English, though the accent--and language itself--seemed to have deteriorated over the centuries. Jaslyn repeated the question in English, though her accent was more Anglo-Saxon, or Old English. The woman hesitantly directed her to a nearby clothing outlet. Jaslyn ignored the part about it being closed and simply kicked in the door, then began rummaging through the degrading attire.
    Last edited by ☆Catwoman☆; 12-23-2013 at 05:24 AM.
    Set by the masterful Karma

  10. #10
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    A tiny ball of light appeared in the sky and descended towards the God of Metal. It seemed to have watched him as he tested his weakened powers on the human female. After the girl passed out, the ball of light descended even further and revealed itself. The ball of light seemed to emanate emotions of happiness and relief. But most importantly, Danero would feel that the ball of light was beckoning him towards the outline of a small town in the distance. The light would then fade away, leaving Danero to decide his next action.

    The same happened for the God of the Unknown. A ball of light formed above the woods, and watched as Spero interacted with the human male. Then, it descended into the woods and floated a few feet away from Spero's face. It emanated waves of happiness towards her, and her human companion would most likely feel its glorious presence as well. Even though she was already heading towards the direction of the falling star, the ball of light seemed to have beckon her to make haste towards the small town up ahead. It then faded away, disappearing into the darkness of the woods.

    Zypher quickly reached the end of the grassy meadow, and came across a strange black pavement which was leading towards the town he was heading towards. He continued running on that road, and then soon realized that his body was actually getting a little tired. He felt... water? He didn't know how, but water was forming on his brow, and he also felt his armpits moist. He did not like this strange feeling whatsoever, but he had to continue on.

    He was breathing heavily as he finally reached one of the entry points of the town. He had to stop himself and catch his breath, he was breathing quite heavily. He figured this must be another human limitation. The God of Purification was used to be able to run for days without pause, which was one of the main reasons on how he survived in the Gray Wastes of Carcari so long ago.

    After catching his breath, Zypher resumed his pace towards where he believed he saw the god fell. On his way, he passed by some panicking people. Some of these people actually stopped and gave him a weird look. He wondered why these people were giving him a weird look, since they were all dressed up in this strange fashion.

    He glances back down on his own attire. He was still wearing his steel armor, but there were many black scorch marks due to his fall. He then heard a loud siren approaching from behind, and he turns around to face the source of the noise. A white and black mechanical object with glowing red and blue lights on top was racing down the road Zypher was standing on. It honked at Zypher to get out of the road and then raced right passed him. A frown came across Zypher's face. It seemed that whoever that was in the vehicle is currently in a hurry.

    The police car that passed Zypher raced down the streets for a few more minutes until it stopped at the center of the town and near the newly-formed crater. A couple more police cars also arrived at their location. About six police officers rushed out of their vehicles and towards the garment store. Four of them took position outside, while two others entered the building to search for the person that attempted murder. After wondering through the dark building, they quickly spotted the strange woman. "Freeze!" one of them shouts and the both of them held up their guns towards her. "Put your hands in the air! Don't make this difficult for any of us!" he warns.

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