Fandom Planar Binding (CLOSED)

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Tera chuckled. "She's something, that's for sure, but yes. I tried to do it first, test out how well I've picked up on a new technique and it didn't work out...my abilities have been hit or miss here. It's been rather aggravating, not going to lie, though I think I'm beginning to understand why." Now that she wasn't fighting, adrenaline high and mind concentrated on potential threats or on the way to meet an expert and get answers to some questions burning in her head, it was easier for her to pick up on how different the Force felt here. She frowned but didn't elaborate, instead continuing on with: "After I failed, she stepped up...or something inside her did, at least. It seemed to me like she had been possessed."

"Huh. Weird." was all Corrin could say to that, brow furrowed in thought. She knew what it was like to not be in control of her actions, but somehow she doubted what had happened was at all similar. Mainly because nothing was similar. "Was the other her any nicer?" she couldn't help but add.

Ha." Tera chuckled again, taking that jolt as a sign that Corrin also felt what she had just experienced. "Well now I'm doubly sure we won't get separated. Nothing to worry about." She continued to walk, winding her way through the streets, before gesturing out to a clearing overlooking a river. "I think I found a suitable place, just over there. Seems quiet enough for me." Even as she said it, though, part of her mind was reaching out with her own mental prowess, reaching out to Jace and knocking on the figurative wall that blocked him off from her. If we're exchanging information like that, there is one more thing I want to know, if you're willing to answer.

"...Yea." Corrin agreed as another involuntary shiver shot up her spine. The idea of another person poking around in her mind...

She sighed and followed Tera for the water's edge. The walk here, once they had gotten out of the immediate vicinity of the command center had been... quiet. Desolate, even. People were bustling down the street, but they were either soldiers moving with grim determination or civilians who shuffled with the shell shocked look of a populace in mourning for their home, trying to make sense of it after War's bloody fingers tore through it.

Corrin knew the look well. Part of her wanted to help, but... this city was so large, the site of war she knew nothing about, with problems she couldn't fathom. She knew there wasn't much of anything she could be doing to help

She stopped a few steps from the water's edge, focusing on the sound of it rather than the flames, or the sound of feet behind them, the occasional yell of someone looking for their family. She'd always found water soothing, fond memories of watching the river that coursed behind the fort she'd called home for most of her life from her room, or the lake outside the Hoshidan palace. Others, tickling warmer and sharper memories in her mind. her hands gripped together, and she sighed.

"...Well, if you want to be alone, I can get out of your hair. Like you said, we don't have to worry about getting lost, I just wanted to make sure we weren't leaving anyone behind."


'Fire away' Came Jace's laconic reply through the folds of Tera's thoughts. 'Apologies for the intrusion; I do try to keep out of fellow telepath's minds, professional courtesy and all, but I figured you wouldn't mind.'

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

"Count. On. It." She said through gritted teeth.

"Noted." Wednesday replied, looking pleased enough with calling that the end of this inane contractual agreement.

"I am going, then. Farewell, mind-sorcerer. I will never see you again." He turned to depart--

"If that happens to be the case, it can only mean good things for the both of us." Jace agreed with a bright smile, leaving out the obvious caveat of one of them dying. As the group turned to leave, Wednesday begrudgingly letting someone else go first but going out right on their heels, Zeke felt a ping in his mind, like a doorbell going off, before he heard Jace's voice in a manner similar to thoughtspeak as the telepath leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and watch the others go.

'If you could stay behind a moment, I have something... personal for you. Best discussed outside of the other's earshot.'

 

[MyrtenRose]

"Huh. Weird." was all Corrin could say to that, brow furrowed in thought. She knew what it was like to not be in control of her actions, but somehow she doubted what had happened was at all similar. Mainly because nothing was similar. "Was the other her any nicer?" she couldn't help but add.

"Ha. I mean, it would be rather difficult to be any worse, so I believe I have to say yes by default." She joked. "I didn't get much of a chance to judge though. She passed out right after patching you up."​

"...Yea." Corrin agreed as another involuntary shiver shot up her spine. The idea of another person poking around in her mind...

She sighed and followed Tera for the water's edge. The walk here, once they had gotten out of the immediate vicinity of the command center had been... quiet. Desolate, even. People were bustling down the street, but they were either soldiers moving with grim determination or civilians who shuffled with the shell shocked look of a populace in mourning for their home, trying to make sense of it after War's bloody fingers tore through it.

Corrin knew the look well. Part of her wanted to help, but... this city was so large, the site of war she knew nothing about, with problems she couldn't fathom. She knew there wasn't much of anything she could be doing to help

She stopped a few steps from the water's edge, focusing on the sound of it rather than the flames, or the sound of feet behind them, the occasional yell of someone looking for their family. She'd always found water soothing, fond memories of watching the river that coursed behind the fort she'd called home for most of her life from her room, or the lake outside the Hoshidan palace. Others, tickling warmer and sharper memories in her mind. her hands gripped together, and she sighed.

"...Well, if you want to be alone, I can get out of your hair. Like you said, we don't have to worry about getting lost, I just wanted to make sure we weren't leaving anyone behind."

Despite the joke, she was observing Corrin seriously...not that she had to be particularly sharp-eyed with it. Tera shrugged in response. "That's up to you. Like I said, I wouldn't mind if you stuck around. It was mostly the childish oily one and the dark child I wanted to separate from, at least for a time. But it doesn't take a mind reader or a detective to tell that something is bothering you, significantly. You sighed twice just now, and the look on your face..." The Sith's head tilted slightly to the side as she sat down by the edge of the water herself, crossing her legs. It was truly a beautiful sight, even in the wake of the war that had ripped through this place not too long ago. "Well, if there's anything you want to say, get off your chest as it were like I did back there, feel free. I promise I'm a really good listener. My old ship crew could attest to that many times over, if they were here." She offered that much, leaving it to the warrior to decide.

By the time Jace replied, she had already levitated up a bit into the air yet still sitting like she was touching the ground.​

'Fire away' Came Jace's laconic reply through the folds of Tera's thoughts. 'Apologies for the intrusion; I do try to keep out of fellow telepath's minds, professional courtesy and all, but I figured you wouldn't mind.'

Good to know, but funny you mention that. It is precisely what I want you to do. You see, earlier, one of the first things I did was try to poke around in one of the horde's minds...or what passed for a mind, at any rate. I did not glean much information, but there was a voice that spoke to me. It sounded...if I had to guess, it belonged to someone or something ancient. It thought I was you, even called me by your name. It threatened to drown me in some nightmarish sensation, if I hadn't been pulled out of it. If I brought up the memory of it to the forefront of my mind, could you look through it and tell me who or what that was?​

 

[MyrtenRose]

"Girl, temper your enthusiasm. If you can." Kratos interrupted, noting she carried the same degree of inquisitiveness as his son. It was only bolstered by an unrelenting exuberance.

"I do not manipulate the elements nor fly. Nothing." ... "My axe does cold but that is all."

He wasn't sure why he humored her question before glancing towards Jace.

Cinder gave out a bold smile in response. "Afraid not, big guy. Not my style. Tempering it, that's just not how I roll." Well, not anymore. Not if she could help it! Her smile changed slightly when he informed her that his axe had a cold element to it, expressing far more curious excitement than the boldness of seconds before. "Cold, huh?" She exclaimed, eyeing said weapon. "Ooh, that's cool! NotAPunByTheWay." The young huntress swiftly added. She raised a palm, conjuring up a small dagger through her semblance. "Fitting, too! See, other than this guy--" She thumbed to the bow on her back. "-I create all my weapons through heat! Pretty awesome, huh? It's like we have this yin and yang thing going on!"​

"If you are easily unsettled by words, you have a harsh road ahead of you in your training. Whatever it may be." Kratos remarked, seeing himself in her far too much.

"Tch." She grunted, a small frown emerging and willing the dagger to melt away in an instant. "Glynda said the same thing. Freaking strict professor."​

"No." He brooked no argument regarding the very idea. Even though he knew not the implications of a superhero, he understood the latter half of the word. Sillier yet was the proposal of a team, if that was what she was implying.

"Gosh, guys, it was just a thought." Her arms crossed as she pouted at the harsh rejection. In her mind, she'd make for an amazing superhero...even if she couldn't settle with a name yet.​

"Perhaps the sorcerer's intrusive presence of the mind. Or he grieves his favorite piece of clothing's attire. Difficult to tell, easier to not care." He continued and completed his exit, bearing an easy stride to where the educator in the way of being a planeswalker was, by following the unnatural homing sense implanted by the mental endowment.

Perhaps he may make the effort to bolster his mental fortitude, that lend to untold dividends for the physical many times over.

"Yeah, maybe." She replied, her eyebrow raising at him declaring it easier to not care, but she didn't question it out loud, just following after the big guy with quick steps to keep up. Stupid longer legs that took bigger strides.​

"Noted." Wednesday replied, looking pleased enough with calling that the end of this inane contractual agreement.

 

[MidwayLives]

Ink stepped out, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans and looked upwards.

He'd never been able to make a good human glamour. At least nothing that came close to passable. Patches of skin would be missing, muscle tissue would be on display, bones would be seen clear as day and his eyes continued to glow like headlights. The parental figures in his life, his 'step-dad' especially always tried to reassure Ink that he wasn't hideous, nor a monster. But that for as much as both of them hated putting Ink through this day in and day out, he just couldn't face the public as himself. They wouldn't accept him. They may never accept him or Gifted in general. It was absolutely sickening. No different than a chimpanzee being forced to dress like a human. Just a sheer outrageous spectacle. That he was forced to commit to indulge the adults in his life. When he was old enough to serve in the army, they didn't seem to mind when he just abandoned the process of glamours and wore victims' skin instead. So long as he made sure no loose ends were left.

Most of the trouble came from just a biology problem. Given his very nature as a Surprise, Ink had benefits that other like Zeke didn't. He didn't need to rely on thought-speak (Zeke could only speak normally through a glamour) and had the protection that came with an elemental's nature. Immune to most physical attacks unless his condition was activated. He could be splattered, cut up, blasted apart, and he'd always come back. Except for if he was frozen. It wouldn't activate his condition per sae. But if a piece of him was missing when the ice melted and he reformed. Who knew what was liable to happen?? He closed his eyes and began to focus.

Glamours were never FUN to do. But to try and avoid the government's ever watchful eye, elementals and mutations had to learn how to do them from a early age. Prodigies like Zeke were capable of doing perfectly passable glamours at four-five. You had to close your eyes, envision the image of what you were trying to conjure in your mind's eye, and then focus your will into it. There was a slight *thump* and for anyone who bothered to look back, they'd have seen that Ink-the furious oily man-had disappeared. In his wake there was a mildly large feline with piercing yellow eyes, not at all unlike Ink's own, and droplets of oil running along it's pitch-black coat. It's tail swished from side to side as it strode forward, confident in it's stride.



His siblings considered it strange that he'd prefer an animal's glamour over a typical human one. Ink never quite took their grievances to heart. Humans were little more than animals themselves, weren't they? They just happened to be smarter than the rest. Besides, he couldn't quite put it to music but he felt more comfortable this way. More so than he ever did pretending to be something he absolutely detested. A human might look at him in fear and disgust. A cat may have just looked at him and then went about it's business. It was that attitude that he could respect and even admire.

Maybe it was also his mother's influence in him. For the son she never got to love like he deserved.

"If that happens to be the case, it can only mean good things for the both of us." Jace agreed with a bright smile, leaving out the obvious caveat of one of them dying. As the group turned to leave, Wednesday begrudgingly letting someone else go first but going out right on their heels, Zeke felt a ping in his mind, like a doorbell going off, before he heard Jace's voice in a manner similar to thoughtspeak as the telepath leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and watch the others go.

Zeke had been inching for the door, his burned hand resting inside an inner pocket of his jacket. Away from prying eyes and all that. Though he'd rather be congenial and polite even despite the circumstances being what they were, to present his wounds as openly and so carelessly could invite the wrong kind of attention. Those who might have seen him as an easy target. Someone to exploit and take out. While he was certainly no pushover, even given the extent of his injuries, better to be safe than well..

Dead.

<"I wish you well, Monseiur Jace. I regret that our meeting could not have been in better times.">

As Jace reached out to him however, a chilly wind blew through the room.

Zeke slowly looked back over his shoulder, his eyes squinting, his shoulders raised.

He exhaled through the slits on his nose and relaxed his posture.

<"...Thank you for reaching out before you addressed me. Most people don't.">

'If you could stay behind a moment, I have something... personal for you. Best discussed outside of the other's earshot.'

Zeke blinked.

<"...Of course. I've only known you for a short while but I believe that if you were to have done me or any of the others here harm, it'd have been done. I have no qualms remaining to talk.">

Zeke began to step towards Jace, patches of ice crinkling and manifesting under where the elemental stepped.

<"...Especially if this is as personal as you imply.">

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Despite the joke, she was observing Corrin seriously...not that she had to be particularly sharp-eyed with it. Tera shrugged in response. "That's up to you. Like I said, I wouldn't mind if you stuck around. It was mostly the childish oily one and the dark child I wanted to separate from, at least for a time. But it doesn't take a mind reader or a detective to tell that something is bothering you, significantly. You sighed twice just now, and the look on your face..." The Sith's head tilted slightly to the side as she sat down by the edge of the water herself, crossing her legs. It was truly a beautiful sight, even in the wake of the war that had ripped through this place not too long ago. "Well, if there's anything you want to say, get off your chest as it were like I did back there, feel free. I promise I'm a really good listener. My old ship crew could attest to that many times over, if they were here." She offered that much, leaving it to the warrior to decide.

By the time Jace replied, she had already levitated up a bit into the air yet still sitting like she was touching the ground.

Corrin winced then settled on a mirthless smile.

"Sorry. Never been great at hiding that stuff. Mr. Jace said that it took the strongest emotion we've ever felt to ignite our sparks. Mine... wans't a happy one" she said, her voice cracking a bit at the end. "But I think you already knew that, right?"

It wasn't an accusatory statement, the words toothless. But corrin's smile faded, and one hand moved to grip the opposite arm tightly as she watched the water below.

"...I kind of wish you didn't. Mr. Jace probably saw it too, if he was in my head."

Good to know, but funny you mention that. It is precisely what I want you to do. You see, earlier, one of the first things I did was try to poke around in one of the horde's minds...or what passed for a mind, at any rate. I did not glean much information, but there was a voice that spoke to me. It sounded...if I had to guess, it belonged to someone or something ancient. It thought I was you, even called me by your name. It threatened to drown me in some nightmarish sensation, if I hadn't been pulled out of it. If I brought up the memory of it to the forefront of my mind, could you look through it and tell me who or what that was?

'Ah. I don't need to look to know that' Came the reply, Tera finding herself two for two on her conversation partners turning grim.

'Her name's Liliana Vess. a powerful necromancer, born pre-mending and centuries old. she was the one commanding the dread-horde at the behest of Bolas due to a contract he'd aqcuired for her soul. Extremely dangerous, very powerful, commonly spiteful. All things Bolas himself learn when she just about killed herself to tear out his spark at the end'

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

<"...Of course. I've only known you for a short while but I believe that if you were to have done me or any of the others here harm, it'd have been done. I have no qualms remaining to talk.">

Zeke began to step towards Jace, patches of ice crinkling and manifesting under where the elemental stepped.

<"...Especially if this is as personal as you imply.">

'I haven't implied anything yet' Came Jace's reply, his face neutral as the others filed out of the room, Wednesday rolling her eyes at Cinder's childish display. Jace sat in silence for a full minute after they'd gone (outside of a brief wince from his conversation), before he leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him.

'...you're not the only one from your plane who is on Ravnica.' he eventually said. 'In fact, that other someone was just in the room. I apologize for this, but I blocked both of you from the other's perception until I figured out what I was going to do with the lot of you.'

He waited to see how Zeke took that before he continued.

 

[MidwayLives]

'I haven't implied anything yet' Came Jace's reply, his face neutral as the others filed out of the room, Wednesday rolling her eyes at Cinder's childish display. Jace sat in silence for a full minute after they'd gone (outside of a brief wince from his conversation), before he leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him.

'...you're not the only one from your plane who is on Ravnica.' he eventually said. 'In fact, that other someone was just in the room. I apologize for this, but I blocked both of you from the other's perception until I figured out what I was going to do with the lot of you.'

He waited to see how Zeke took that before he continued.

As if in real time, Jace saw another, albeit minor crack spread across the bridge of Zeke's 'nose.' Or rather the structure that resembled a normal nose. He clutched at his chest with his good hand and the light in his eyes dimmed for a brief second or two.

<"Someone else...?">

Who..? One of the Crusaders perhaps? Had this Bob decided to send one of them here? Or at least give them a push in the right direction? But to what end? Were they here to kill him? He'd already betrayed the government and openly defied them. Hundreds of soldiers lay dead or dying after they'd refused to lay down their arms when he'd asked them to. It pained him to take so many lives, especially from those who like his dear brother believed and likely always had that they were on the right side of history. That the government, nay, the world had the right to lord over Gifted-kind. To keep them from living their lives unless it was living on scraps as vagrants or as the government's tools.

Zeke collected himself and slowly settled into a chair across from Jace. Resting his unafflicted hand on his right knee, he squeezed. His eyes unable to meet Jace's. <"To come here....for my Spark to have 'activated.' I was on the cusp of death. My body had begun shattering and breaking apart, my heart had been burned, my organs damaged. I couldn't even move another step if the heavens themselves demanded it of me. I..."> He paused and closed his eyes.

<"...I am not proud of what transpired before my knock at death's door. Many lives were lost and I regret every one of them. But. I'd done it all to protect my brothers. It'd been for their sake and theirs alone. In that chaos and amidst the bloodshed, I did not see anyone who may have gone through similar circumstances to myself or any of the others that found themselves unfortunate enough to be here. That is except for one other person."> As an elemental, Zeke couldn't really cry. Not as such in a manner that was normal to un-gifted anyhow. There was the softest plink as a frozen teardrop with jagged edges and corners fell from Zeke's face, under his right eye. <"The other indivudal. Were they tall? Did they reek of gasoline? Wear clothes that look ragged and unwashed? Yellow eyes like mine?"> Zeke kept flying with the questions but he didn't expect or let up for any answers.

<"...If that's a yes then I know exactly who it is.">

Zeke finally lifted his head to meet Jace, face to face, mind to mind.

<"He's my brother. Damian Cruz or...Black Ink.">

Outside while attempting to keep up with the others, Black Ink sneezed while still in his cat glamour.

Could have sworn someone had mentioned him.

 

[MyrtenRose]

Corrin winced then settled on a mirthless smile.

"Sorry. Never been great at hiding that stuff. Mr. Jace said that it took the strongest emotion we've ever felt to ignite our sparks. Mine... wasn't a happy one" she said, her voice cracking a bit at the end. "But I think you already knew that, right?"

It wasn't an accusatory statement, the words toothless. But corrin's smile faded, and one hand moved to grip the opposite arm tightly as she watched the water below.

"...I kind of wish you didn't. Mr. Jace probably saw it too, if he was in my head."

"Yes. I knew." She confirmed it without hesitation, observing the water below as well. Better to confront the truth than to hide from it. "I saw your pain. I felt it. I do not blame you for wishing I had not. All of that, to be glimpsed by someone you know very little about...I understand why you wish I did not. Just know this as well, it was not my intention to pry and discover this for some dark purpose or manipulative whim. You seemed troubled, even in your unconscious state. I thought I could help in some way, so I tried." She moved her head slightly, lifting her gaze up from the water to look at Corrin directly.

"For what it's worth, I know that feeling that fed your spark all too well. Mine wasn't born of the most pleasant feelings either. I mean, I told you a lot of the story. I'm not going to repeat it all, but suffice to say, I understand the struggle in handling those feelings. I spent a long time isolating myself. Blaming myself. It was rather unbecoming of a Sith, actually. Bottling up the emotions in that way rather than letting them flow freely...but that's neither here nor there. Just know this, I'll keep this between us. Nobody will hear of it from me, and...I'm sorry you had to experience that. I won't venture into your mind unwanted like that again, this I swear to you."

Her stare lingered on Corrin for a few more moments of silence before briefly glancing away as she contemplated something. It didn't take too long before her eyes locked onto the dragon girl again. "This may sound strange, coming from me, but in the interest of both moving away from this dark topic, and becoming a little less of strangers to each other in the process, how about a game of sorts? One of my crew, a snarky street rat, introduced it to me a long time ago. I tell you three things about me. Two of them will be true, one won't be, and you have to guess which one's the lie. This way, you know more about me. Fair's fair, since I inadvertently saw what I saw. That is, if you wish?"​

'Ah. I don't need to look to know that' Came the reply, Tera finding herself two for two on her conversation partners turning grim.

'Her name's Liliana Vess. a powerful necromancer, born pre-mending and centuries old. she was the one commanding the dread-horde at the behest of Bolas due to a contract he'd aqcuired for her soul. Extremely dangerous, very powerful, commonly spiteful. All things Bolas himself learn when she just about killed herself to tear out his spark at the end'

While she waited for an answer, though she gave no outward sign she was having another conversation, inwardly she digested this knowledge with uncertainty. Liliana Vess, she repeated the name in thought speak. That certainly sounded like a name that could come from her home...but then, most names could sound that way, coming from somewhere in the galaxy she knew. I see. Just about killed herself, you say...so she yet lives, I presume. And this Bolas, who is he? Or perhaps the better question is who was he? ​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

As if in real time, Jace saw another, albeit minor crack spread across the bridge of Zeke's 'nose.' Or rather the structure that resembled a normal nose. He clutched at his chest with his good hand and the light in his eyes dimmed for a brief second or two.

<"Someone else...?">

Who..? One of the Crusaders perhaps? Had this Bob decided to send one of them here? Or at least give them a push in the right direction? But to what end? Were they here to kill him? He'd already betrayed the government and openly defied them. Hundreds of soldiers lay dead or dying after they'd refused to lay down their arms when he'd asked them to. It pained him to take so many lives, especially from those who like his dear brother believed and likely always had that they were on the right side of history. That the government, nay, the world had the right to lord over Gifted-kind. To keep them from living their lives unless it was living on scraps as vagrants or as the government's tools.

Zeke collected himself and slowly settled into a chair across from Jace. Resting his unafflicted hand on his right knee, he squeezed. His eyes unable to meet Jace's. <"To come here....for my Spark to have 'activated.' I was on the cusp of death. My body had begun shattering and breaking apart, my heart had been burned, my organs damaged. I couldn't even move another step if the heavens themselves demanded it of me. I..."> He paused and closed his eyes.

<"...I am not proud of what transpired before my knock at death's door. Many lives were lost and I regret every one of them. But. I'd done it all to protect my brothers. It'd been for their sake and theirs alone. In that chaos and amidst the bloodshed, I did not see anyone who may have gone through similar circumstances to myself or any of the others that found themselves unfortunate enough to be here. That is except for one other person."> As an elemental, Zeke couldn't really cry. Not as such in a manner that was normal to un-gifted anyhow. There was the softest plink as a frozen teardrop with jagged edges and corners fell from Zeke's face, under his right eye. <"The other indivudal. Were they tall? Did they reek of gasoline? Wear clothes that look ragged and unwashed? Yellow eyes like mine?"> Zeke kept flying with the questions but he didn't expect or let up for any answers.

<"...If that's a yes then I know exactly who it is.">

Zeke finally lifted his head to meet Jace, face to face, mind to mind.

<"He's my brother. Damian Cruz or...Black Ink.">

Outside while attempting to keep up with the others, Black Ink sneezed while still in his cat glamour.

Could have sworn someone had mentioned him.

Jace didn't leave Zeke in suspense; he took a deep breath and nodded. "Thats right. You'll have to forgive me twice; once for forestalling your reunion, and once for why I did." He leaned back in his chair, two fingers on each hand pressed against his chin, his eyes glowing slightly with his own magic as he continued.

"I'm sure you've figured out by now that I'm a telepath, obviously. Either the others didn't, held a bit too much trust for a stranger, or simply didn't care, but I... picked through your minds once you arrived. You and Cinder when I found you, the others while they were still waiting above ground; its why I delayed the meeting as long as I did."

His tone sounded apologetic, but not remorseful.

"In my defense, you're a bunch of weird mutant maybe planeswalkers with some very strange energies, and you all showed up in the middle of one of the most dangerous conflicts the multiverse has ever seen. I needed to know what we were dealing with, if you were agents of bolas or something else taking advantage of the chaos. I didn't really get the answer to that, honestly" he added, his smile thinning a bit. "Only some weird vision the other group had; I couldn't slip past Tera's notice, and Wednesday's mind was warded by some very powerful, very native mana."

"What I did learn though was that the last time you two met, it wasn't on good terms. To put it lightly. It leaves me at a bit of an impasse. I'd like for all of you to stay together, in one place, minimize the damage if it turns out your the next war of the spark waiting to happen. But...."

He let the obvious implications of Zeke and Ink meeting again hang in the air.

"I wasn't sure what to do. Honestly, what I saw in Ink's mind makes me wonder if I letting some man eating monster roam free. But its your family, and you seemed like the more level headed one. so I'm asking you." He finished

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

"For what it's worth, I know that feeling that fed your spark all too well. Mine wasn't born of the most pleasant feelings either. I mean, I told you a lot of the story. I'm not going to repeat it all, but suffice to say, I understand the struggle in handling those feelings. I spent a long time isolating myself. Blaming myself. It was rather unbecoming of a Sith, actually. Bottling up the emotions in that way rather than letting them flow freely...but that's neither here nor there. Just know this, I'll keep this between us. Nobody will hear of it from me, and...I'm sorry you had to experience that. I won't venture into your mind unwanted like that again, this I swear to you."

"..Thank you." Corrin said, sincerely. She hadn't even realized how much the thought of Tera doing so again had weighed on her til she felt it lift, and she let herself sit at the water's edge; it was fenced off with iron, and well too far from the water's surface for her legs to reach, but she slid them through the bars regardless and hugged her arms around one, taking the sound of the current as her eyes closed.

Her stare lingered on Corrin for a few more moments of silence before briefly glancing away as she contemplated something. It didn't take too long before her eyes locked onto the dragon girl again. "This may sound strange, coming from me, but in the interest of both moving away from this dark topic, and becoming a little less of strangers to each other in the process, how about a game of sorts? One of my crew, a snarky street rat, introduced it to me a long time ago. I tell you three things about me. Two of them will be true, one won't be, and you have to guess which one's the lie. This way, you know more about me. Fair's fair, since I inadvertently saw what I saw. That is, if you wish?"

That made her laugh slightly, her face scrunching up without her eyes opening. "what if I'm bad at it? Then I just learn a lie and nothing else, right?" she asked; there was still a waver to her voice, the adrenaline of the days end giving way to the reality of the day's start, but she was glad for any attempt to distract her from it; to think about anything but herself. She cracked one eye open to glance over to Tera before she shrugged.

"But sure, why not."

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

With Ink wandering off, Tera and Corrin AWOL for now, and Zeke held back, it was just Wednesday, Cinder, and Kratos who were on the streets en route to their would be instructor. It was a similar scene to what Tera and Corrin saw; Despite the ferocity of the fighting not an hour before, the city was heavy with a muted silence, the sort of calm that came across any battlefield after the last strike had been swung. Organized troops moved in battalions through the streets, checking for would be rioters or looters. Citizen fire brigades of mages who summoned water and simple shopkeeps with buckets worked in tandem with pegasus riders and bizarre, tentacled flying beasts to dampen the infernos that raged on some blocks. Families picked through the rubble of their former homes. Yet despite the ever present commotion, no one raised their voice louder than necessary, exhaustion and relief intermingling with the occasional sob or scream off in the distance.

Wednesday found the entire atmosphere quite pleasant. It was hard to find a good warzone back home that didn't involve undue travel.

She walked in the back of the trio, resigned for now to her miserable assigned role of 'lost dog being taken home', but the other two felt her eyes picking into their backs, studying ever bit of their dress and demeanor as they went.

"I appreciate your capacity for violence." She eventually complimented(?) towards Kratos. "you seemed well verse in the art of murder through the most painful means possible"

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

While she waited for an answer, though she gave no outward sign she was having another conversation, inwardly she digested this knowledge with uncertainty. Liliana Vess, she repeated the name in thought speak. That certainly sounded like a name that could come from her home...but then, most names could sound that way, coming from somewhere in the galaxy she knew. I see. Just about killed herself, you say...so she yet lives, I presume. And this Bolas, who is he? Or perhaps the better question is who was he? ​

'Both of those questions would require about a month to answer.' came his dry retort.

'I don't really have that time. Though... if you're open, I could share the information more... directly'

 

[MidwayLives]

Jace didn't leave Zeke in suspense; he took a deep breath and nodded. "Thats right. You'll have to forgive me twice; once for forestalling your reunion, and once for why I did." He leaned back in his chair, two fingers on each hand pressed against his chin, his eyes glowing slightly with his own magic as he continued.

"I'm sure you've figured out by now that I'm a telepath, obviously. Either the others didn't, held a bit too much trust for a stranger, or simply didn't care, but I... picked through your minds once you arrived. You and Cinder when I found you, the others while they were still waiting above ground; its why I delayed the meeting as long as I did."

Zeke casually brushed it aside as though the truth were a mere afterthought.

<" That is quite fine with me. I cannot speak for anyone other than Ink and myself. But it appears as though we are all strangers to this...plane, you called it? If this is your home then you're within your rights to take caution with strangers. You might be able to read minds. We have those with such abilities back home. They are called 'mentals.' You might be able to read a man's mind, peer into his thoughts, but reading their heart is another matter entirely. I hold no ill will whatsoever towards you, Monsieur Jace. I understand.>"

How could he after all? Zeke was quite a number of things.

To the military he was an arrogant fool who played with fire by defying them when he saw fit.

To enemies he was an absolute monster. One of the strongest Gifted to walk the Earth in this generation.

But to the men he'd taken on as family? He was as kind and sweet as could be. He didn't wish to claim to know Jace. Such a statement would be molded in nothing but outright naive ignorance at best and malicious ingratitude at worst. For if Jace hadn't arrived when he did? Zeke might have succumbed to his wounds and the people he'd tried protecting. They wouldn't have been too far behind on death's list.

He'd never forget that.



The way the people stared at him.

It was every elemental's nightmare.

To be seen for what they really were by the unfiltered masses. To be seen as little more than a monster that absolutely NEEDED to be contained lest they go on to hurt innocents or because who knows what kinds of untold amounts of destruction. To try and live without a passable glamour at a certain point was a death sentence for any elemental worth their salt. You'd either be taken out by a government agent for thinking you could so openly defy a system that'd been set in stone before Portugal and Spain had even crossed the seas.

Zeke never cared if people saw him.

He'd been fortunate enough to grow up in a small enough village on the outskirts of Paris that everyone knew his family were elementals. His father had even served in World War 2 when Nazi Germany had tried to boast about the superiority of their country's Gifted. Screaming the 'secret' with their whole chest and murdering as many normals as they could get their hands on. Nobody complained, nobody was frightened. It was a community built on trust and love. It was only after Zeke himself had unwillingly frozen over half the village in a panicked attempt to try and defend himself against a perverted attacker that the central government in Paris and across Europe were warned about the powerful clan of ice elementals that'd somehow gone ignored for so long!

Wishing to avoid seeing their beloved son forcibly impressed into the French Army knowing they'd use him as a weapon to try and corral support from their former colonies/keep them from declaring their own Gifted's existence and the only other alternative being to fight back, his parents chose to send him to America. The country had come out practically on top of the world after the end of the Second World War and had been making a habit of trying to scoop up powerful Gifted across the world wherever news about them cropped up. China and the USSR (later Russia proper) weren't far behind. Rene Beaumont was dead. Zeke was all that remained.

'Zeke...Yes! That'll be your name from now on! I quite like the sound of it, don't you agree? Hahaha!'

For decades he'd been little more than the weapon the Americans expected him to be. He refused any attempts at connections, disturbed any agents from wanting to try and take a familial role with him to try and better integrate him with other Gifted units. That all changed when he was sent to a military base mockingly called 'Camp Hope', which was primarily meant to station/train teenaged Gifted until they turned 18 upon which they would audition before top ranking generals/weapons manufacturers and if they did well? They got to graduate and become part of the USGU (United States Gifted Unit) and if they performed poorly?

Well, there'd be a bit of a wonder upon where someone may have gone, but then everyone would quietly accept that they'd never see that person again. Not in this lifetime. Zeke was a shoo-in to become an elite when he turned eighteen. A cold-hearted killing machine. Just as the Department of Defense wanted him to be. But they'd never get that. Having formed a bond with the other teenagers he'd been partnered up with, including one that he (with the support of the base's medical staff of course and his siblings) raised from infancy and another he'd befriended who'd been there since the base initially opened back in the 1950s. They were all his brothers. If not by blood, then by spirit.

That would never change. No matter what roadblocks came up in his path.

Placing the palm of his good hand against the ground, Zeke pushed himself up to his feet. His left hand was too mangled to be of much use. Half the fingers on that hand could do little more than twitch and every attempt sent a flick of severe pain coursing through his forearm. The gaping hole in his chest wasn't faring much better. His blood painted the ground bright blue as it streamed out of the wound, the fleshy interior badly burned and the ice around it was cracked and splintered. If he'd had a mouth, he was sure to have vomited. Instead, small trickles of blood oozed out of the small slits around the nostril like protrusions on his face. His head felt foggy and as though it weighed a hundred pounds. Even standing felt like it took herculean effort, his legs shaking like a newborn babe's and threatening to give way and send him falling back down onto the blood soaked dirt. Placing his only working hand acrossthe front of his graphic chest wound, a thick layer of translucent black ice began to form over it. It wasn't perfect and it still hadn't made any kind of sense to him as to why he simply wasn't dead.

If this were perhaps the afterlife then how cruel it was to continue to make him still feel this. The pain. Not just from the wounds that snuffed out the flame of life but the pain in his heart, his very soul. To have passed on before making amends with the brother that he'd only wished to try and help see the error of his ways. To convince him that there was more to life than simply indulging in it's worst vices or despising the world right back. A thick layer of blood stained Zeke's palm as he pulled it back once the ice had finished covering his chest and over the worst portions of his left hand. It glowed so brightly someone may have confused it for anti-freeze ironically enough.

It'd have to do for now.

If this really was the end of the road. All he had to look forward to was whatever lay ahead then. What came next?

The frightened screams and frantic steps of feet against the ground were enough of a clue he supposed. He could feel the people's eyes on him. Hear them muttering under their breath. Others were more open about their distaste about this grotesque stranger. Having apparently(?) fallen from above, bleeding all over the place, and not speaking a word. Well, he supposed he could hand them the first two but the last one was simply unreasonable. To make a glamour in this state would have been foolish. As he craned his head upwards and let cool water run down his face from his bedraggled hair, he noticed the sight that was perhaps, more of an understandable source for the people's fear.

They looked like monsters. Which, coming from the six-foot-tall ice man should have really said something.

<"Where do you think you're going?"> He called out, in an attempt to try and reach out to these things. Even the most meagre of attempts before engaging in battle. An olive branch he supposed it was.

There was no response.

Given the amount of weaponry and how well armored these creatures appeared to be, he supposed that their intentions were obvious enough. What would have spitting it out be it verbally or mentally been worth to either party?

Zeke closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

So that was it then. Battle.

<"Alright then. I'm going to have to stop you.">

He did not know these people. He realized he may very well have looked like as much of a monster as the seeming army that lurched closer with every step. It didn't mean a damned thing. To do nothing would have been to very well condemn these people to death and strangers or not, afraid of him or just curious. None of it mattered. To stand by and let innocents be hurt was absolutely unacceptable. Holding his arms out to the side, Zeke slightly closed his eyes and all the people around him would have seen small shimmers of light reflecting off his ice-like body. Full blooded elementals like Zeke COULD eat as 'normals' did while wearing their glamours but in their natural state, they were more akin to energy vampires. Being able to call upon the energy of the world around them. Most usually only took what they had to and nothing more lest they encroached on people who were either unwilling or physically incapable of giving energy without it negatively impacting their own wellbeing. Had he been younger, more jaded, Zeke likely wouldn't have thought twice about draining energy from these townspeople and cared little about what it may have done to the injured, the elderly, or the children.

Instead, he took what could from the environment itself. Any plants, animals, what have you.

It wasn't much and the time wasn't there to stand and gather for a full meal. He'd have to be grateful for what he'd been able to get and go to work. Reaching down to the right side of his abdomen where a hand-shaped burn mark had been impressed into his skin, through a hole in his t-shirt, he began to pull out a hefty looking sword made of ice from his body, forming it as he went. Part of the perks about being an elemental meant being able to make your own weaponry at your leisure. Make a sword, break a sword, re-make it even tougher than the last one. Rinse and repeat. The only downside?

Zeke was left handed.

Drawing the sword out and holding it aloft at his side, Zeke's shoulders raised and lowered, his body awash with pain.



<"IceBiter...">

His left hand wasn't worth much in it's present state. But some of the fingers on it still worked and just two were enough. Holding up his left hand, Zeke appeared to 'grab' an air current as though it were a shower curtain. Giving it a rough yank, a fierce wind blew through the ranks of the approaching undead, wrecking their posture and alignment. Had his hand been in proper working order, the outpour of wind would have been worse. Enough to send some of them toppling over or flying across the landscape. For now, he'd just have to count his blessings that he was even standing at all. Holding IceBiter back in much the same way, you or I might hold a baseball bat or another blunt instrument, a grey sphere appeared around the blade of the sword, miniature snowflakes flowing around inside it as though IceBiter was locked inside a snowglobe.

He swung the blade as hard as he possibly could. The blade didn't meet flesh, armor, or anything of the sort. Instead, it seemed to crack the very air itself. A spiderweb-like fracture no less. The sphere that'd formed around the blade disappeared with a bubble-like *pop!*

*CRACK*

The ground rumbled and shook around where Zeke had swung his sword. Along with being able to control and manipulate ice as he pleased, Zeke's Gift [JUST DIED] allowed him to hurl freezing winds and ravage the world with icy shockwaves. Fissures and cracks rippled throughout the ground as the shockwave smashed into the first row of undead that were unfortunate or dim enough to continue marching forward into it's path, unimpeded or unworried. It ripped them from their delicately held footing and hurled them through the air upon which they quickly crashed down with thunderous uproar. Zeke didn't let up, taking full advantage of the gap he'd just ripped open in this enemy's ranks. Sliding forward on a trail of ice, Zeke reared back IceBiter for another swing as another sphere like bubble manifested around the blade.

Having seen the destructive prowess of this ability, one of the enemy took the chance to swing their blade directly down at Zeke's head. It cleaved right into his head, splitting a few good inches into his forehead. But his body didn't shatter, his ice didn't melt and he didn't cry out in pain. Instead, he looked up at the soul who'd struck him and slammed IceBiter's blade directly into the ground.

*BOOM*

The ground ERUPTED under Zeke's feet as both he and those around him were subject to Ground Zero. Many were flung back, smashing through buildings, others were sent crashing into their comrades. Zeke left IceBiter where it'd been wedged and lunged for the one who's ax was still wedged into his head. Closing his hand around the mouth of the soldier's helm, Zeke formed a smaller sphere. This time around the soldier's head. Ice began freezing over the soldier's head and their attempts to wrench Zeke's arm away from them proved futile. Slamming his left foot down, a pillar of ice shot out to slam into the soldier's gut, toppling them over onto their back and leveraging Zeke overhead to smash their head directly into the ground, creating a localized shockwave with their frozen head as the epicenter.

*BOOM*

*BOOOOOOM*

Perhaps, he was a bit annoyed with the whole ax in the head. Stepping out of the miniature crater he'd made, Zeke ripped the ax free from his skull and tossed it aside the now headless body of it's owner. Looking over at the remaining troops as his head began to reform itself and close up the wound, Zeke huffed. It'd almost seemed like a cruel joke. He'd already taken on and defeated one army. Now he was expected to face another while defending a people who could not seem to defend themselves.

If 'Bob' really did exist as Ink claimed, he did...

He was a cruel entity.

*BOOOOOOOOM*

All around Zeke's battle space was an icy wasteland. Some soldiers were frozen within blocks of ice. Others had been ripped violently apart from massive ice spikes tearing through their body. Others had just been pummeled deep into the ground. But no matter how many of them he knocked down or destroyed, it just seemed like they kept on coming. There was no end to their numbers and Zeke could feel the toil of his wounds on him with every move he made. <"No..."> Blood dripped from his slits and fell onto IceBiter's hilt. Falling to a knee and clutching onto his blade's handle to try and support himself, Zeke's body violently shook. <"Damn this...body of mine....">

Catching a glimpse of these monsters approaching a mother and her daughter, neither of whom looked battle capable in the slightest, Zeke looked down at his burned hand and then back at them. He'd already fought well beyond what his wounds enabled him to do. He wasn't a miracle worker. There were nearly casualties in every conflict. Why would this be any different?

....

Because he was here.

*CRACK*

The shockwave smashed into the offending soldier. It then proceeded to smash said soldier through the closest building, then one behind it, and one waaay far back beyond that one and so on. By the time the soldier had finally come to a stop, it'd left a trail nearly half a mile wide.

He'd managed to save them. But...

IceBiter began to melt. Stumbling back a step or two once he'd regained his footing, Zeke feared the worst. The enemy's numbers, if they did not dwindle, would soon overwhelm him. Whatever his ultimate fate was to be, he'd accept it without hesitation. But what it meant for the people behind him?

<"I...I am not strong enough..."> To protect them all...

Then, a hero, arrived.



The horde were forced back. But not by the force of any shockwave or at the edge of a blade.

But he could barely stand! Who could have-

Zeke looked over his shoulder and blinked.



<"......Heh.....hehe....">

It felt almost too on point. Like something out of an American comic book.

A hero had arrived just in the knick of time.

"What I did learn though was that the last time you two met, it wasn't on good terms. To put it lightly. It leaves me at a bit of an impasse. I'd like for all of you to stay together, in one place, minimize the damage if it turns out your the next war of the spark waiting to happen. But...."

He let the obvious implications of Zeke and Ink meeting again hang in the air.

The air around Zeke grew absolutely freezing.

Sub zero temperatures even.

<"no....we did not.">

He let the obvious implications of Zeke and Ink meeting again hang in the air.

"I wasn't sure what to do. Honestly, what I saw in Ink's mind makes me wonder if I letting some man eating monster roam free. But its your family, and you seemed like the more level headed one. so I'm asking you." He finished

Zeke gripped the armest of his chair so tightly he'd actually ended up freezing it.

<"agh. my apologies. This is not my home and yet I leave a mess as though it were.">

Pulling his hand back, he shook his head.

<"please. understand that I do not speak as though I'm excusing what my brother has done. The world we come from. You either do as your told or you're a nuisance to be dealt with. It's regrettable and I despise that it's how things are but it's been done that way since the dawn of empires. It's not so easily changed in one's lifetime. Even if I were to live out the entire lifespan of an elemental, typically 400 years or so, and avoid the ailments of dementia. I could not change it all on my own. As much as I desperately wish I could. Ink...">

Zeke shook his head once more. As though what was he about to say next frustrated him to his core.

<"...He's not my 'brother' in that sense. Not by blood anyhow. I suppose that's obvious enough but even among 'our own'. He was never accepted. To use our, plane's, sorry the phrasing is all still so foreign to me, terminology: he's a Surprise, a half-breed. His mother was a mutation-type, his father an elemental. Even today those kinds of relationships are looked upon with disgust and revile. It was even worse decades ago. Stripped from his parents, pulled from family after family upon getting too close to them and risking losing his 'killer touch', which was what made him so appealing to the government anyhow. Those who witness any signs of our abilities are to be executed. No questioning, no talking. Just doing what needs to be done. I cannot say my hands are clean but I detested this practice as did all of my other siblings....All except for Damian. He reviled in it. To him it was a chance to strike back. At all the people he'd have to hide from as a child, those who looked upon him with disgust and disdain even as they knew he could rip them limb from limb. It was sickening, no way to live. I'd hoped to finally try to get through to him. To get him to see that this wasn't the only way forward. That normals deserve a chance to live just as we do. Perhaps in time they WILL accept us. But not at the edge of a claw or fangs.">

Zeke slowly stood up.

<"...I never meant to hurt my brother. One of our other siblings had betrayed him, us. They'd justified it by saying 'he's a monster' and that's all the reason they needed. Perhaps I was misguided, frustrated, at a loss on what to do with him. I attempted to freeze him. To try and get some time to think. On what to say, what to do. He took it as me attempting to murder him.">

Zeke's eyes dimmed for a moment before returning to their previous levels of brightness.

<"I'd rather die myself before being forced to slay him. There is one in this group, Corrin, I believe. My only hope is that she might be what he needs. A guiding influence that isn't his brother. Someone from outside the box who can help him. But...if worse comes to worse..."> Zeke looked away. <"If what needs to be done must be then I'll do it.">

 

[MyrtenRose]

"..Thank you." Corrin said, sincerely. She hadn't even realized how much the thought of Tera doing so again had weighed on her til she felt it lift, and she let herself sit at the water's edge; it was fenced off with iron, and well too far from the water's surface for her legs to reach, but she slid them through the bars regardless and hugged her arms around one, taking the sound of the current as her eyes closed.

Tera nodded earnestly in response. "You're welcome." She had made that promise, and she meant it. She could only hope no other situation arose that made it necessary to break her word...or that at the very least, she'd be able to ask for permission before doing so. She could only imagine there were plenty of possibilities that might force her hand later. Unknown worlds, other galaxies, universes...who was to say what the future held? Still, she wasn't going to worry about the endless possibilities of what if. She lived in the here and now.​

That made her laugh slightly, her face scrunching up without her eyes opening. "what if I'm bad at it? Then I just learn a lie and nothing else, right?" she asked; there was still a waver to her voice, the adrenaline of the days end giving way to the reality of the day's start, but she was glad for any attempt to distract her from it; to think about anything but herself. She cracked one eye open to glance over to Tera before she shrugged.

"But sure, why not."

That got Tera to snicker in turn. "Don't feel too bad. i'm a Sith, I strive to win all contests. I even tend to, really." She boasted with a confident smirk. "But I'll tell you what, even when you get it wrong--" She didn't bother to use the word if, so sure that Corrin wouldn't choose the actual lie. "-I can tell you all about the other two in greater detail. Hell, I'll talk about all of them if you want." She remarked with another laugh. "Alright, here goes. First, I was once the apprentice to a master so embarrassed about his appearance that not only did he never take off his helmet but he also used that as inspiration for his chosen Darth name. Second, I realized I was into the ladies at age 16, when I drunkenly made out with the chef at a neighbor's manor party back home. And third, if I could have picked another life instead of the one I have lived, I would have chosen to be a restaurant owner. So, which one's the lie?"​

'Both of those questions would require about a month to answer.' came his dry retort.

'I don't really have that time. Though... if you're open, I could share the information more... directly'

A month?? See, now, if I say yes to that, it sounds like I'm going to get flooded with a ton of information if it would take that long to answer.​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

A month?? See, now, if I say yes to that, it sounds like I'm going to get flooded with a ton of information if it would take that long to answer.​

'they're two of the oldest beings in the multiverse still alive; asking for the short of it is still going to give you a 200 page book. The extreme short of it; big dragon bad, necromancer lady... well. Good adjacent anyways, and coerced into her zombie apocalypse wielding'

 

[MyrtenRose]

'they're two of the oldest beings in the multiverse still alive; asking for the short of it is still going to give you a 200 page book. The extreme short of it; big dragon bad, necromancer lady... well. Good adjacent anyways, and coerced into her zombie apocalypse wielding'

....................................................................Fine, my curiosity is piqued. Hit me with this knowledge then.​

 

[MidwayLives]

With Ink wandering off, Tera and Corrin AWOL for now, and Zeke held back, it was just Wednesday, Cinder, and Kratos who were on the streets en route to their would be instructor. It was a similar scene to what Tera and Corrin saw; Despite the ferocity of the fighting not an hour before, the city was heavy with a muted silence, the sort of calm that came across any battlefield after the last strike had been swung. Organized troops moved in battalions through the streets, checking for would be rioters or looters. Citizen fire brigades of mages who summoned water and simple shopkeeps with buckets worked in tandem with pegasus riders and bizarre, tentacled flying beasts to dampen the infernos that raged on some blocks. Families picked through the rubble of their former homes. Yet despite the ever present commotion, no one raised their voice louder than necessary, exhaustion and relief intermingling with the occasional sob or scream off in the distance.

A cat walked amongst the scene of destruction, sparing a glance this way and that.

A feral hiss was launched towards some of the mages who'd gotten too close with their water sprays. It quickly scampered out of the way before any droplets got too close for comfort.

Jumping from spot to spot, the feline glanced over in the direction of some of the debris. It'd all been fun and games when he'd toppeled over the gigantic zombie from before. Caved it's head right in like nutcracker smashing some walnuts. But how many houses or buildings must it have stumbled into before it finally fell? How many people were trampled or stuck underfoot by the aftermath? All questions he'd never even considered in the euphoria of winning. That's all that really matters. Being the one still standing when the dust clears. Besides, what did he owe these people? Absolutely nothing. They looked upon him just like everyone else did. With fear in their eyes and their hearts, suspicion too, probably. He could have fought a dozen of those gigantic zombies and it wouldn't flip the coin. They'd still keep looking at him like that.

Despite that, though, he'd still prefer here to back home.

...Anything seemed preferable to that.

Coming to a stop nearby where he'd spotted some people, civilians? Rescuers? The only disaster zones he'd been privy to were ones that he'd caused. He was usually the only one still alive there too. They made an effort at picking up debris, moving it out of the way. Maybe they'd get lucky and find a family member who'd been stuck under there. Or maybe they'd find severed limbs or crushed remains. Too ugly to even bother with an open casket funeral. Probably better to just dump all the remains in a mass grave and let that be that. Or maybe he could offer to just eat the remains. Spare the family the horror.

<"Heh.">

The cat chuckled to itself, it's thoughts its own.

He'd not gotten the chance to talk much to anyone besides Corrin and that damned mental. He'd have to play catch up with the rest of them soon before they got too far ahead. He idly wondered how many of them seemed eager to just get back home and put this all behind them. Not for him. As far as he was concerned. This, or any other 'plane' or whatever could be his new home. Which probably meant it'd be better to at least TRY to integrate some goodwill with the populace. Would probably keep them from trying to kill him in the future or kicking up a fuss whenever he'd walk downtown. Though, nothing could really ever beat the fun that came with frightening the bejesus out of someone who was clearly already scared out of their wits. It never got old.

Strolling towards a group of civilians shifting through the rubble, the cat hid behind a nearby chunk of fractured debris and the glamour faded.

Rising up and facing the people who'd not that long ago looked upon him with just as much fear and suspiscion as they had the rampaging zombies. Multiple arms oozed out of his back as he moved to grab multiple pieces of rubble and remove it. Six hands were better than just two.

Besides, if everything went south...

He could always just

Kill everyone.

 

[Indolent]

With Ink wandering off, Tera and Corrin AWOL for now, and Zeke held back, it was just Wednesday, Cinder, and Kratos who were on the streets en route to their would be instructor. It was a similar scene to what Tera and Corrin saw; Despite the ferocity of the fighting not an hour before, the city was heavy with a muted silence, the sort of calm that came across any battlefield after the last strike had been swung. Organized troops moved in battalions through the streets, checking for would be rioters or looters. Citizen fire brigades of mages who summoned water and simple shopkeeps with buckets worked in tandem with pegasus riders and bizarre, tentacled flying beasts to dampen the infernos that raged on some blocks. Families picked through the rubble of their former homes. Yet despite the ever present commotion, no one raised their voice louder than necessary, exhaustion and relief intermingling with the occasional sob or scream off in the distance.

Wednesday found the entire atmosphere quite pleasant. It was hard to find a good warzone back home that didn't involve undue travel.

She walked in the back of the trio, resigned for now to her miserable assigned role of 'lost dog being taken home', but the other two felt her eyes picking into their backs, studying ever bit of their dress and demeanor as they went.

"I appreciate your capacity for violence." She eventually complimented(?) towards Kratos. "you seemed well verse in the art of murder through the most painful means possible"

He already had been in the process of escorting a child amidst a perilous journey within a realm fraught with dangers of many kinds. The humor wasn't lost on Kratos as he led both Wednesday and Cinder through the aftermath of the war that transpired for the sparks of the many few fortunate to possess one.

It wasn't an abrupt a question that beggared an abrupt enough a physical response in kind from Kratos, instead coming to a meandering halt that clearly gave way to some somber thoughtfulness in his demeanor. He looked ahead, lost in the flow of the memories that came to mind pertinently relevant to the compliment, before gazing across the way and into what would have been the main area for the home that laid collapsed before him, the family within currently not present. This was not an uncommon sight in his many forays in war, especially as a general for Sparta's forces.

Especially when he wreaked havoc as the spear point-- the literal tool-- of the gods in their numerous machinations.

Even then, his journey in murder's finesse started long before he comingled with the gods following an act of desperation and weakness, to save his own life.

The Spartan's life was an arduous one indeed, the boys selected and trained from the age of seven in a grueling series of exercises. Those deemed weak were sent to the mountains to die and the strong persisted in their training. In time Kratos became general, no small feat that left little to the imagination the incredulous brutality the Spartan must have visited upon his city-state's many foes.

No different as he had been while saddling the yoke of the Gods of Olympus.

Even he was not so fortunate to be granted the boons one expected of his heritage and stature. His daughter Calliope would be born with a wasting sickness courtesy of Ares and the Gods saw it fit to form a wager amongst themselves to leverage powerful warriors to win them it, each having their own personal goals in retrieving the miraculous Ambrosia that would heal whomever consumed it.

He was none the nobler for his savagery in winning the wager for the gods and ambrosia for his daughter.

Far too few instances came to mind where he could vouch that he killed for something other than himself. It was common regularity that citizens of enemy cities found themselves slaughtered by Kratos, whether as general of the Spartan forces or as envoy of the gods, the latter incidents often for fueling his latent rage. The root of his power.

The training he endured became synonymous with his being and with that of Sparta but it was merely what polished the talent Kratos bore all along. It was something he loathed to a visceral degree that he shunned himself from people, from himself, from his own humanity.

Wednesday found Kratos affixing his gaze onto her, his expression seemingly stern in perpetuity. The slightest quirk of his expression betrayed, as though it looked he was going to say something poignant in response.

"Practice brings efficiency."

It was all he could bring himself to say in the company of strangers, no less children. And why would he want to subject them to the horrors of his past...?

"We must press on." And so it was, the god resumed his purposed stride to their destination.

 

[MyrtenRose]

With Ink wandering off, Tera and Corrin AWOL for now, and Zeke held back, it was just Wednesday, Cinder, and Kratos who were on the streets en route to their would be instructor. It was a similar scene to what Tera and Corrin saw; Despite the ferocity of the fighting not an hour before, the city was heavy with a muted silence, the sort of calm that came across any battlefield after the last strike had been swung. Organized troops moved in battalions through the streets, checking for would be rioters or looters. Citizen fire brigades of mages who summoned water and simple shopkeeps with buckets worked in tandem with pegasus riders and bizarre, tentacled flying beasts to dampen the infernos that raged on some blocks. Families picked through the rubble of their former homes. Yet despite the ever present commotion, no one raised their voice louder than necessary, exhaustion and relief intermingling with the occasional sob or scream off in the distance.

Wednesday found the entire atmosphere quite pleasant. It was hard to find a good warzone back home that didn't involve undue travel.

She walked in the back of the trio, resigned for now to her miserable assigned role of 'lost dog being taken home', but the other two felt her eyes picking into their backs, studying ever bit of their dress and demeanor as they went.

"I appreciate your capacity for violence." She eventually complimented(?) towards Kratos. "you seemed well verse in the art of murder through the most painful means possible"

It was quite a sight all around them as they trudged along, and not really in the good way. Cinder would have normally expressed excitement at the sight of flying freaking horses, or looked in equal parts awe and concern at the weird looking tentacle things, but she restrained herself. Barely. Expressing those right now, with all the people around who weren't having a good time at all, that didn't feel right. So she walked along in relative silence, offering little more than a sympathetic face to those around her. She kind of wished they could stop and do more, to help these people out, but they had a mission to get done. The words of Headmistress Salem echoed in her mind. The simple fact is that on occasion, seeing a mission through to the end will require tough decisions. Sacrifices to be made. It is not always as simple as just slaying grimm, no matter how much one might wish it were so easy.

Much as she might have wished to help, it wasn't her mission or her job. It wasn't even her world. So she kept on just silently observing and biting her tongue on any response to the dark one whose eyes she could feel practically melting a hole in her back. Said silence lasted until the goth spoke up, and she glanced over her shoulder. Did she mean me--nope, she was talking to the big guy. I mean, duh. She was with him. How could she have possibly seen my fight? Unless she was spying on me...no, no that couldn't be. She didn't. Obviously not. Get it together, Cinder. She admonished herself privately.​

Wednesday found Kratos affixing his gaze onto her, his expression seemingly stern in perpetuity. The slightest quirk of his expression betrayed, as though it looked he was going to say something poignant in response.

"Practice brings efficiency."

It was all he could bring himself to say in the company of strangers, no less children. And why would he want to subject them to the horrors of his past...?

"We must press on." And so it was, the god resumed his purposed stride to their destination.

"Well, uh, kinda feel left on not seeing your battle. Got stuck in one of my own." She remarked, some of that pent up excitement leaking out despite herself. She enjoyed a good fight, and that had been one hell of one. "There was this beast thing, you know? Thing had hands that dwarfed my skull, and like a flaming spear, and even in death, or undeath, or whatever you call it, you could tell it could have crushed cinderblocks between those thighs, no joke! It was strong, tough, fast and all that, but above everything else it was skilled. Like, crazily so! Kinda why I got so beat up, if you wondering...anyways, so what was it that you guys fought?"​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

It was quite a sight all around them as they trudged along, and not really in the good way. Cinder would have normally expressed excitement at the sight of flying freaking horses, or looked in equal parts awe and concern at the weird looking tentacle things, but she restrained herself. Barely. Expressing those right now, with all the people around who weren't having a good time at all, that didn't feel right. So she walked along in relative silence, offering little more than a sympathetic face to those around her. She kind of wished they could stop and do more, to help these people out, but they had a mission to get done. The words of Headmistress Salem echoed in her mind. The simple fact is that on occasion, seeing a mission through to the end will require tough decisions. Sacrifices to be made. It is not always as simple as just slaying grimm, no matter how much one might wish it were so easy.

Much as she might have wished to help, it wasn't her mission or her job. It wasn't even her world. So she kept on just silently observing and biting her tongue on any response to the dark one whose eyes she could feel practically melting a hole in her back. Said silence lasted until the goth spoke up, and she glanced over her shoulder. Did she mean me--nope, she was talking to the big guy. I mean, duh. She was with him. How could she have possibly seen my fight? Unless she was spying on me...no, no that couldn't be. She didn't. Obviously not. Get it together, Cinder. She admonished herself privately.



"Well, uh, kinda feel left on not seeing your battle. Got stuck in one of my own." She remarked, some of that pent up excitement leaking out despite herself. She enjoyed a good fight, and that had been one hell of one. "There was this beast thing, you know? Thing had hands that dwarfed my skull, and like a flaming spear, and even in death, or undeath, or whatever you call it, you could tell it could have crushed cinderblocks between those thighs, no joke! It was strong, tough, fast and all that, but above everything else it was skilled. Like, crazily so! Kinda why I got so beat up, if you wondering...anyways, so what was it that you guys fought?"​

Kratos merely god a nod in response; she knew that herself, of course. She just felt the need to acknowledge a fellow in the craft.

Cinder got a response however, if perhaps not the one she wanted as Wednesday answered in her same calm monotone.

"Corrin's suicidal ideation. Or stupidity. I'm still on the fence onto which one is her bigger problem in terms of survivability"

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

. "Alright, here goes. First, I was once the apprentice to a master so embarrassed about his appearance that not only did he never take off his helmet but he also used that as inspiration for his chosen Darth name. Second, I realized I was into the ladies at age 16, when I drunkenly made out with the chef at a neighbor's manor party back home. And third, if I could have picked another life instead of the one I have lived, I would have chosen to be a restaurant owner. So, which one's the lie?"​

She giggled again, taken aback by how... silly most of these were, at odds with how she'd perceived Tera up til now.

"I... for being from an entirely different world from me, a lot of those things sound so... normal." She hummed in thought, staring out over the water's edge as she gave it some genuine thought.

"hrm.... I don't know enough about your culture to know whether not taking off a helmet is all that weird. You seem too confident for it to take that long to figure something about yourself. So.... I guess its the third one? Are you my ally in culinary catastrophe? I'm not usually... allowed in the kitchen back home." she said with a sheepish frown.

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Zeke casually brushed it aside as though the truth were a mere afterthought.

<" That is quite fine with me. I cannot speak for anyone other than Ink and myself. But it appears as though we are all strangers to this...plane, you called it? If this is your home then you're within your rights to take caution with strangers. You might be able to read minds. We have those with such abilities back home. They are called 'mentals.' You might be able to read a man's mind, peer into his thoughts, but reading their heart is another matter entirely. I hold no ill will whatsoever towards you, Monsieur Jace. I understand.>"

How could he after all? Zeke was quite a number of things.

To the military he was an arrogant fool who played with fire by defying them when he saw fit.

To enemies he was an absolute monster. One of the strongest Gifted to walk the Earth in this generation.

But to the men he'd taken on as family? He was as kind and sweet as could be. He didn't wish to claim to know Jace. Such a statement would be molded in nothing but outright naive ignorance at best and malicious ingratitude at worst. For if Jace hadn't arrived when he did? Zeke might have succumbed to his wounds and the people he'd tried protecting. They wouldn't have been too far behind on death's list.

He'd never forget that.



The way the people stared at him.

It was every elemental's nightmare.

To be seen for what they really were by the unfiltered masses. To be seen as little more than a monster that absolutely NEEDED to be contained lest they go on to hurt innocents or because who knows what kinds of untold amounts of destruction. To try and live without a passable glamour at a certain point was a death sentence for any elemental worth their salt. You'd either be taken out by a government agent for thinking you could so openly defy a system that'd been set in stone before Portugal and Spain had even crossed the seas.

Zeke never cared if people saw him.

He'd been fortunate enough to grow up in a small enough village on the outskirts of Paris that everyone knew his family were elementals. His father had even served in World War 2 when Nazi Germany had tried to boast about the superiority of their country's Gifted. Screaming the 'secret' with their whole chest and murdering as many normals as they could get their hands on. Nobody complained, nobody was frightened. It was a community built on trust and love. It was only after Zeke himself had unwillingly frozen over half the village in a panicked attempt to try and defend himself against a perverted attacker that the central government in Paris and across Europe were warned about the powerful clan of ice elementals that'd somehow gone ignored for so long!

Wishing to avoid seeing their beloved son forcibly impressed into the French Army knowing they'd use him as a weapon to try and corral support from their former colonies/keep them from declaring their own Gifted's existence and the only other alternative being to fight back, his parents chose to send him to America. The country had come out practically on top of the world after the end of the Second World War and had been making a habit of trying to scoop up powerful Gifted across the world wherever news about them cropped up. China and the USSR (later Russia proper) weren't far behind. Rene Beaumont was dead. Zeke was all that remained.

'Zeke...Yes! That'll be your name from now on! I quite like the sound of it, don't you agree? Hahaha!'

For decades he'd been little more than the weapon the Americans expected him to be. He refused any attempts at connections, disturbed any agents from wanting to try and take a familial role with him to try and better integrate him with other Gifted units. That all changed when he was sent to a military base mockingly called 'Camp Hope', which was primarily meant to station/train teenaged Gifted until they turned 18 upon which they would audition before top ranking generals/weapons manufacturers and if they did well? They got to graduate and become part of the USGU (United States Gifted Unit) and if they performed poorly?

Well, there'd be a bit of a wonder upon where someone may have gone, but then everyone would quietly accept that they'd never see that person again. Not in this lifetime. Zeke was a shoo-in to become an elite when he turned eighteen. A cold-hearted killing machine. Just as the Department of Defense wanted him to be. But they'd never get that. Having formed a bond with the other teenagers he'd been partnered up with, including one that he (with the support of the base's medical staff of course and his siblings) raised from infancy and another he'd befriended who'd been there since the base initially opened back in the 1950s. They were all his brothers. If not by blood, then by spirit.

That would never change. No matter what roadblocks came up in his path.

Placing the palm of his good hand against the ground, Zeke pushed himself up to his feet. His left hand was too mangled to be of much use. Half the fingers on that hand could do little more than twitch and every attempt sent a flick of severe pain coursing through his forearm. The gaping hole in his chest wasn't faring much better. His blood painted the ground bright blue as it streamed out of the wound, the fleshy interior badly burned and the ice around it was cracked and splintered. If he'd had a mouth, he was sure to have vomited. Instead, small trickles of blood oozed out of the small slits around the nostril like protrusions on his face. His head felt foggy and as though it weighed a hundred pounds. Even standing felt like it took herculean effort, his legs shaking like a newborn babe's and threatening to give way and send him falling back down onto the blood soaked dirt. Placing his only working hand acrossthe front of his graphic chest wound, a thick layer of translucent black ice began to form over it. It wasn't perfect and it still hadn't made any kind of sense to him as to why he simply wasn't dead.

If this were perhaps the afterlife then how cruel it was to continue to make him still feel this. The pain. Not just from the wounds that snuffed out the flame of life but the pain in his heart, his very soul. To have passed on before making amends with the brother that he'd only wished to try and help see the error of his ways. To convince him that there was more to life than simply indulging in it's worst vices or despising the world right back. A thick layer of blood stained Zeke's palm as he pulled it back once the ice had finished covering his chest and over the worst portions of his left hand. It glowed so brightly someone may have confused it for anti-freeze ironically enough.

It'd have to do for now.

If this really was the end of the road. All he had to look forward to was whatever lay ahead then. What came next?

The frightened screams and frantic steps of feet against the ground were enough of a clue he supposed. He could feel the people's eyes on him. Hear them muttering under their breath. Others were more open about their distaste about this grotesque stranger. Having apparently(?) fallen from above, bleeding all over the place, and not speaking a word. Well, he supposed he could hand them the first two but the last one was simply unreasonable. To make a glamour in this state would have been foolish. As he craned his head upwards and let cool water run down his face from his bedraggled hair, he noticed the sight that was perhaps, more of an understandable source for the people's fear.

They looked like monsters. Which, coming from the six-foot-tall ice man should have really said something.

<"Where do you think you're going?"> He called out, in an attempt to try and reach out to these things. Even the most meagre of attempts before engaging in battle. An olive branch he supposed it was.

There was no response.

Given the amount of weaponry and how well armored these creatures appeared to be, he supposed that their intentions were obvious enough. What would have spitting it out be it verbally or mentally been worth to either party?

Zeke closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

So that was it then. Battle.

<"Alright then. I'm going to have to stop you.">

He did not know these people. He realized he may very well have looked like as much of a monster as the seeming army that lurched closer with every step. It didn't mean a damned thing. To do nothing would have been to very well condemn these people to death and strangers or not, afraid of him or just curious. None of it mattered. To stand by and let innocents be hurt was absolutely unacceptable. Holding his arms out to the side, Zeke slightly closed his eyes and all the people around him would have seen small shimmers of light reflecting off his ice-like body. Full blooded elementals like Zeke COULD eat as 'normals' did while wearing their glamours but in their natural state, they were more akin to energy vampires. Being able to call upon the energy of the world around them. Most usually only took what they had to and nothing more lest they encroached on people who were either unwilling or physically incapable of giving energy without it negatively impacting their own wellbeing. Had he been younger, more jaded, Zeke likely wouldn't have thought twice about draining energy from these townspeople and cared little about what it may have done to the injured, the elderly, or the children.

Instead, he took what could from the environment itself. Any plants, animals, what have you.

It wasn't much and the time wasn't there to stand and gather for a full meal. He'd have to be grateful for what he'd been able to get and go to work. Reaching down to the right side of his abdomen where a hand-shaped burn mark had been impressed into his skin, through a hole in his t-shirt, he began to pull out a hefty looking sword made of ice from his body, forming it as he went. Part of the perks about being an elemental meant being able to make your own weaponry at your leisure. Make a sword, break a sword, re-make it even tougher than the last one. Rinse and repeat. The only downside?

Zeke was left handed.

Drawing the sword out and holding it aloft at his side, Zeke's shoulders raised and lowered, his body awash with pain.

View attachment 1067251

<"IceBiter...">

His left hand wasn't worth much in it's present state. But some of the fingers on it still worked and just two were enough. Holding up his left hand, Zeke appeared to 'grab' an air current as though it were a shower curtain. Giving it a rough yank, a fierce wind blew through the ranks of the approaching undead, wrecking their posture and alignment. Had his hand been in proper working order, the outpour of wind would have been worse. Enough to send some of them toppling over or flying across the landscape. For now, he'd just have to count his blessings that he was even standing at all. Holding IceBiter back in much the same way, you or I might hold a baseball bat or another blunt instrument, a grey sphere appeared around the blade of the sword, miniature snowflakes flowing around inside it as though IceBiter was locked inside a snowglobe.

He swung the blade as hard as he possibly could. The blade didn't meet flesh, armor, or anything of the sort. Instead, it seemed to crack the very air itself. A spiderweb-like fracture no less. The sphere that'd formed around the blade disappeared with a bubble-like *pop!*

*CRACK*

The ground rumbled and shook around where Zeke had swung his sword. Along with being able to control and manipulate ice as he pleased, Zeke's Gift [JUST DIED] allowed him to hurl freezing winds and ravage the world with icy shockwaves. Fissures and cracks rippled throughout the ground as the shockwave smashed into the first row of undead that were unfortunate or dim enough to continue marching forward into it's path, unimpeded or unworried. It ripped them from their delicately held footing and hurled them through the air upon which they quickly crashed down with thunderous uproar. Zeke didn't let up, taking full advantage of the gap he'd just ripped open in this enemy's ranks. Sliding forward on a trail of ice, Zeke reared back IceBiter for another swing as another sphere like bubble manifested around the blade.

Having seen the destructive prowess of this ability, one of the enemy took the chance to swing their blade directly down at Zeke's head. It cleaved right into his head, splitting a few good inches into his forehead. But his body didn't shatter, his ice didn't melt and he didn't cry out in pain. Instead, he looked up at the soul who'd struck him and slammed IceBiter's blade directly into the ground.

*BOOM*

The ground ERUPTED under Zeke's feet as both he and those around him were subject to Ground Zero. Many were flung back, smashing through buildings, others were sent crashing into their comrades. Zeke left IceBiter where it'd been wedged and lunged for the one who's ax was still wedged into his head. Closing his hand around the mouth of the soldier's helm, Zeke formed a smaller sphere. This time around the soldier's head. Ice began freezing over the soldier's head and their attempts to wrench Zeke's arm away from them proved futile. Slamming his left foot down, a pillar of ice shot out to slam into the soldier's gut, toppling them over onto their back and leveraging Zeke overhead to smash their head directly into the ground, creating a localized shockwave with their frozen head as the epicenter.

*BOOM*

*BOOOOOOM*

Perhaps, he was a bit annoyed with the whole ax in the head. Stepping out of the miniature crater he'd made, Zeke ripped the ax free from his skull and tossed it aside the now headless body of it's owner. Looking over at the remaining troops as his head began to reform itself and close up the wound, Zeke huffed. It'd almost seemed like a cruel joke. He'd already taken on and defeated one army. Now he was expected to face another while defending a people who could not seem to defend themselves.

If 'Bob' really did exist as Ink claimed, he did...

He was a cruel entity.

*BOOOOOOOOM*

All around Zeke's battle space was an icy wasteland. Some soldiers were frozen within blocks of ice. Others had been ripped violently apart from massive ice spikes tearing through their body. Others had just been pummeled deep into the ground. But no matter how many of them he knocked down or destroyed, it just seemed like they kept on coming. There was no end to their numbers and Zeke could feel the toil of his wounds on him with every move he made. <"No..."> Blood dripped from his slits and fell onto IceBiter's hilt. Falling to a knee and clutching onto his blade's handle to try and support himself, Zeke's body violently shook. <"Damn this...body of mine....">

Catching a glimpse of these monsters approaching a mother and her daughter, neither of whom looked battle capable in the slightest, Zeke looked down at his burned hand and then back at them. He'd already fought well beyond what his wounds enabled him to do. He wasn't a miracle worker. There were nearly casualties in every conflict. Why would this be any different?

....

Because he was here.

*CRACK*

The shockwave smashed into the offending soldier. It then proceeded to smash said soldier through the closest building, then one behind it, and one waaay far back beyond that one and so on. By the time the soldier had finally come to a stop, it'd left a trail nearly half a mile wide.

He'd managed to save them. But...

IceBiter began to melt. Stumbling back a step or two once he'd regained his footing, Zeke feared the worst. The enemy's numbers, if they did not dwindle, would soon overwhelm him. Whatever his ultimate fate was to be, he'd accept it without hesitation. But what it meant for the people behind him?

<"I...I am not strong enough..."> To protect them all...

Then, a hero, arrived.



The horde were forced back. But not by the force of any shockwave or at the edge of a blade.

But he could barely stand! Who could have-

Zeke looked over his shoulder and blinked.

View attachment 1067263

<"......Heh.....hehe....">

It felt almost too on point. Like something out of an American comic book.

A hero had arrived just in the knick of time.



The air around Zeke grew absolutely freezing.

Sub zero temperatures even.

<"no....we did not.">


Zeke gripped the armest of his chair so tightly he'd actually ended up freezing it.

<"agh. my apologies. This is not my home and yet I leave a mess as though it were.">

Pulling his hand back, he shook his head.

<"please. understand that I do not speak as though I'm excusing what my brother has done. The world we come from. You either do as your told or you're a nuisance to be dealt with. It's regrettable and I despise that it's how things are but it's been done that way since the dawn of empires. It's not so easily changed in one's lifetime. Even if I were to live out the entire lifespan of an elemental, typically 400 years or so, and avoid the ailments of dementia. I could not change it all on my own. As much as I desperately wish I could. Ink...">

Zeke shook his head once more. As though what was he about to say next frustrated him to his core.

<"...He's not my 'brother' in that sense. Not by blood anyhow. I suppose that's obvious enough but even among 'our own'. He was never accepted. To use our, plane's, sorry the phrasing is all still so foreign to me, terminology: he's a Surprise, a half-breed. His mother was a mutation-type, his father an elemental. Even today those kinds of relationships are looked upon with disgust and revile. It was even worse decades ago. Stripped from his parents, pulled from family after family upon getting too close to them and risking losing his 'killer touch', which was what made him so appealing to the government anyhow. Those who witness any signs of our abilities are to be executed. No questioning, no talking. Just doing what needs to be done. I cannot say my hands are clean but I detested this practice as did all of my other siblings....All except for Damian. He reviled in it. To him it was a chance to strike back. At all the people he'd have to hide from as a child, those who looked upon him with disgust and disdain even as they knew he could rip them limb from limb. It was sickening, no way to live. I'd hoped to finally try to get through to him. To get him to see that this wasn't the only way forward. That normals deserve a chance to live just as we do. Perhaps in time they WILL accept us. But not at the edge of a claw or fangs.">

Zeke slowly stood up.

<"...I never meant to hurt my brother. One of our other siblings had betrayed him, us. They'd justified it by saying 'he's a monster' and that's all the reason they needed. Perhaps I was misguided, frustrated, at a loss on what to do with him. I attempted to freeze him. To try and get some time to think. On what to say, what to do. He took it as me attempting to murder him.">

Zeke's eyes dimmed for a moment before returning to their previous levels of brightness.

<"I'd rather die myself before being forced to slay him. There is one in this group, Corrin, I believe. My only hope is that she might be what he needs. A guiding influence that isn't his brother. Someone from outside the box who can help him. But...if worse comes to worse..."> Zeke looked away. <"If what needs to be done must be then I'll do it.">

Jace waited quietly as Zeke answered, but his response was stern.

"You don't want to leave this to her. I've been inside all of your heads. You and Tera took this whole thing the best, to a degree. Kratos is... old. Centuries old. It was hard for me to parse through a mind that deep, but that experience has him steady at least. But Corrin... You need to remember, most of you sparked at the worst moment of your lives. The absolute lowest. She's no exception" he said with a frown. "whatever strong facade you saw in this room, it was just that; a facade."

He sighed and stood up, waving a hand. The silvery liquid on the war table took shape again, this time of a much more intimate scene than the entire city from above. A familiar, liquid form moved rubble from a building, people initially shying away from him in concern and curiosity, but far from the screams of terror he would have been used to back home, and eventually ink found the people asking him for help with particularly large pieces of rubble that the group couldn't move themselves.

"I've seen what he's done, from his own thoughts and yours. Your brother is not a good person, Zeke." Jace said quietly as he watched the scene. "No matter how much was his fault or not to get to that point, thats the point he's at now. But what I can't tell you is where that point is in the future, and... I know what its like to hurt those close to you." He turned back to Zeke, the liquid illusion falling away back to the table with a slosh.

"Go to the location I gave you all. Davriel's powerful enough that if he doesn't take you being there well, you can both... handle it." he said. "But if he doesn't immediately fly into a murder rage, then, well... I'll trust you to handle it from there, on the next plane and wherever you go after."

 

[MyrtenRose]

She giggled again, taken aback by how... silly most of these were, at odds with how she'd perceived Tera up til now.

"I... for being from an entirely different world from me, a lot of those things sound so... normal." She hummed in thought, staring out over the water's edge as she gave it some genuine thought.

"hrm.... I don't know enough about your culture to know whether not taking off a helmet is all that weird. You seem too confident for it to take that long to figure something about yourself. So.... I guess its the third one? Are you my ally in culinary catastrophe? I'm not usually... allowed in the kitchen back home." she said with a sheepish frown.

"...Oh. Here I was, thinking I could pride myself on my abnormality." Tera commented, sounding almost a bit offended at being called normal...at least, until she snickered herself. She shrugged. "Back where I'm from, life shares some commonalities across a lot of different worlds. I've personally seen it. I suppose that goes for life across different planes too." She scrutinized Corrin intensely for a second, briefly pondering. "Put it this way, I may not know everything about you, Corrin, but from what I do know...if you had been born in my galaxy, I would have figured you for being from Dubrillion. You seem like you'd have fit in on that world and you have a similar fashion sense to some of the people I've met from there. Yes, that would have been my guess." She nodded.

"Nevermind that, though. As I told you, I tend to win all contests and games, and this was no different, hah! That was not the lie. My old master was a heavyset bastard, true, and a deluded, self absorbed, arrogant fool...but never was he ashamed of his appearance. Yes, never taking off your helmet would not be considered weird among my society but he did take his off, and yes again, this does mean that I did not realize I was into the ladies until age 16 when I drunkenly made out with the chef of the manor party. That's a truth. It was my neighbor's daughter, actually. She was around the same age as me, and like me, was bored to death by the dull so called "party" her family was hosting. She'd figured the best way to avoid as much of that tedious affair was to be in the kitchens, providing the food for it, and getting to showcase her talent for cooking as well. Speaking of which, sorry, I'm afraid I am a good cook. I've always loved food, and if I could have had another life, I believe I'd have enjoyed that the most. A restaurant all my own, perhaps on Coruscant or Corellia. That's not to say I don't love the life I've led."

Tera paused before the curiosity won out. "So, culinary catastrophe, hmm? What did you do to earn a ban from the kitchen?"​

 

[MidwayLives]

Jace waited quietly as Zeke answered, but his response was stern.

"You don't want to leave this to her. I've been inside all of your heads. You and Tera took this whole thing the best, to a degree. Kratos is... old. Centuries old. It was hard for me to parse through a mind that deep, but that experience has him steady at least. But Corrin... You need to remember, most of you sparked at the worst moment of your lives. The absolute lowest. She's no exception" he said with a frown. "whatever strong facade you saw in this room, it was just that; a facade."

Zeke nodded, scratching at a lengthy crack alongside the rightside of his face.

<"...You are right. Naive of me to try and dump a brotherly burden upon another."> It was hard to tell given the lack of mouth, but Zeke seemed almost embarrassed as Jace mentioned Kratos. <"...I'd heard that the man was a god. Kratos. As if this situation weren't miserable enough, I appeared before a deity in such a sorry state."> Ink wouldn't have cared less. Aside from perhaps a morsel of curiosity as to if he was anything like the mythical 'Bob' that'd given his stepdad a second chance at life. Zeke would very much preferred to have met a god under better circumstances, and not look so ravaged on top of it all.

He sighed and stood up, waving a hand. The silvery liquid on the war table took shape again, this time of a much more intimate scene than the entire city from above. A familiar, liquid form moved rubble from a building, people initially shying away from him in concern and curiosity, but far from the screams of terror he would have been used to back home, and eventually ink found the people asking him for help with particularly large pieces of rubble that the group couldn't move themselves.

Ink bristled at the stares and bared his fangs, a low rumble escaping past his razor sharp teeth. But as he continued to work and the people started to, if not grow accustomed to him, realized that he-at least not at the moment-wasn't going to do them harm, they drew closer and asked for further aid. Something that baffled him outright. Anybody normal seeing him back home was a dead man walking. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. If you were a witness to any kind of Gifted activity, (barring extreme cases like having the blessing of a primordial Gifted protecting you/enough money to pay off the Gifted tasked with taking you out) you were to die and so would anyone in your extended family that you may or may NOT have passed on any information to. The fact that these people were just standing around, looking at him and then continuing conversation amongst themselves. As if the man with the teeth of a shark, the feet and claws of a big cat, and skin of a oil well was the least oddity they'd have rolling through their neighborhood.

"...Alright. Give me some room to work, huh?" Ink grumbled, more or less an order as he continued to wade through the rubble, spreading oil across the bigger chunks. "I'm gonna dissolve some of the rubble so I ain't just tossing it around all over the place. Could end up crushing someone and then we're back to square one. You see anybody or anything under the rubble? Drag em out of there and get em to a doctor or something." Ink was as strong as they came, he wasn't just registered as his unit's 'Cleaner' just because of his Gift alone. He'd been trained well enough in h2h and had a good idea of battlefield decorum. But there wasn't jack nor shit he could do to heal someone. He could consume bodies if they were too damaged, a thought that'd already appeared and he'd written off as a morbid joke. The saliva dripping down his fangs and streaking down his chin made him a bit less sure of that.

"thank you..."

Ink's neck swiveled around with a rather disgustingly smooth fluid noise. The source of the 'thank you' was none other than a little child, a girl. He couldn't hammer out how old she was. He was bad with ages. Came with having a sibling who could potentially live to be around 400+ years old and beyond if he managed to keep his mental marbles in check. The kid's clothes were...well, they looked like the usual here. The kind of clothes you'd probably see in a movie like Peter Pan. Primitive was probably closer to what he was looking for if a bit harsh. Her long blonde hair was a mess with dirt and grime mussing it all up and her face covered in dried blood. Probably tripped and fell as a result of all the chaos. She'd seen Ink working and had decided to approach the strange man. It only felt right.

Ink stared at her. At a bit of a loss. He didn't really know how to respond. Thanks? He'd done it on a whim. What did it really matter if these people lived or died? When he walked away, he was sure they'd go back to speaking amongst themselves. About the 'foul smelling creature who helped them.' Beggars couldn't be choosers, y'know? Maybe it was the best he could get in this backwater.

...It sure beat the hell out of going back home.

But as he looked back at the kid, he froze. It wasn't just a messy kid standing there. It was the Kid.

The one whose parents he'd gleefully murdered.

The figurative line that he'd finally crossed that pushed Zeke to 'do something' about Ink's behavior.



'My...My parents...You-You KILLED them!!!'

'I did...'

The man that'd introduced himself as a loyal agent of the United States government. Who said that he'd deal with the band of terrorists that'd been calling themselves 'The Modern Crusaders', one of whom had held up inside the kid's home. Taking her parents hostage. Only for this man, this BEAST, to kill her father, devour the remains, and kill her mother without a second thought.

'Why?!'

As he loomed over her and the wounded Crusader laying beside her, desperately palming around for his revolver after it'd been knocked from his hands. The beast flashed the rows of teeth in it's ravenous maw.

'Because I had to.'

No...

'Because I wanted to.'

~~~

Ink frowned.

He reached out towards the child.

The child, understandably, recoiled from his touch at first but didn't jump back any further as he gently patted her head. Once. Before pulling his hand back and leaving it hanging at his side.

"You should go, kid."

Ink turned to head away from the child. He could clear a few more piles before he split off to join the others.

The kid didn't follow but she called out again.

'Thank you, mister!'

Ink clenched his right hand so tightly. He irritated the cuts he'd left in it earlier and bright red blood seeped down the side of his wrist and down his forearm.

"son of a bitch..."

He sighed and stood up, waving a hand. The silvery liquid on the war table took shape again, this time of a much more intimate scene than the entire city from above. A familiar, liquid form moved rubble from a building, people initially shying away from him in concern and curiosity, but far from the screams of terror he would have been used to back home, and eventually ink found the people asking him for help with particularly large pieces of rubble that the group couldn't move themselves.

"I've seen what he's done, from his own thoughts and yours. Your brother is not a good person, Zeke." Jace said quietly as he watched the scene. "No matter how much was his fault or not to get to that point, thats the point he's at now. But what I can't tell you is where that point is in the future, and... I know what its like to hurt those close to you." He turned back to Zeke, the liquid illusion falling away back to the table with a slosh.

Zeke's eyes dimmed.

<"...I love Ink. I wish that I'd met him earlier. Perhaps I could have changed his path. Or maybe all the time in the world would not be enough. Family is...complicated. Found family even more so.">

He tried to smile with his eyes at the hero who'd saved his and countless other's lives.

<"...I'll do what I must. Even if it splits my heart in twain.">

He held a handout towards Jace. <"Still, I must thank you again, Monsieur Jace. I wish we could have met under better circumstances.">

Then he blinked and quirked his head.

<"Oh! My apologies...">

He pulled the hand back, the majority of the hand severely burned, three of the fingers giving feeble twitches here and there. Patches of raw flesh poked out from under chunks of cracked and semi-melted ice.

Zeke then put out his right hand.

<"....That was my dominant hand.">

Provided whether or not Jace took the chance to shake Zeke's hand, Zeke wished him well all the same. With a gentle wave over his shoulder, Zeke headed out. If not ready to face his dearly beloved if immensely frustrating sibling.

Ready to do whatever had to be done.