క్కThe Montessi DaBrickashaw క్క

@shanana: (If you're really into conspiracy theories about untaught 'black/african' history, check out the documentaries entitled "Hidden Colors." You'll be fascinated and pissed all at the same time lol)

@nikademus: I seen it already. Lol and you're right I was pissed off

You guys should see Narcos, that's a great documentary.

i have. Not bad but a story heard/told a thousand times :P

Wagner Moura played Escobar really well.

#BrazilianPrideMoment

@nikademus:

Except it happened. That's what's crazy about it. The guy was worse than Osama in a lot of aspects.

Meh, the rise and fall of P-Escobar is cool, but well known. For me to consider a Doc as great its gotta be about something truly fascinating.

@shanana:

The doorman had been captivated by the Nubian newcomers beauty, but dare not visually express his emotions or betray his own self-governing dedication to the job. Instead he subtly nodded as if silently directing the young woman towards the northern portions of the castle. Nikademus had been spending solitary hours, days even, locked away in the never ending labyrinth of the Brick's northern section. The why and motivation was a mystery to all with the exception of the mercurial mystic himself. Only his most trusted servant, Fin Fang Foom, a peace-seeking monk from the former Arashikage island, was permitted to enter. "There is a young woman here to see you, Al-Khwarizmi (the mathematician)." his Asian cadence resonated through an empty room, consumed by darkness. A darkness that burned men's soul. And when Nikademus finally appeared from beyond the sea of blackness, he did so adorned in a series of bloody and violently disturbing cuts and wounds. With a deep and labored breath he fought hard to bring forth a small grin. "Very well Mr. Foom. Thank you Mr. Foom."

Minutes later the Sleeper once again appeared, but this time his visual facade was that of a ceremonial cleric. Tightly wrapped shawls and his trademarked hooded forever scarf covered his exercised physique. Only the bearded face of the Xsoteric had been left exposed as he greeted the unexpected arrival. As always a plethora of numerical equations occupied the visual spectrum of his optical gaze. Unconsciously creating a mental palace of multi-variable mathematics.

"Welcome to the Montessi, my dear. My name is Nikademus. Owner and custodian of this magical temple of esoteric intrigue."glancing towards the artistic representations which had previously occupied the unknown sound-bender's attention. "Interesting era, yet....uninspired? And not what I think you have come here to find..." he grinned. Intuitively anticipating Ashley's true quest,

@nikademus: Sweet post, will have something up shortly

@nikademus:

I felt my eyes leave Justintine and rotate in the direction of my host. He stood about 6’2, with Brown tassels with endless cobalt tinted eyes. Fashioned in ceremonial shawls, the exact nature of his figure was hard to pinpoint, not that it mattered. “Uh no, I suppose I didn’t” I say with a forced smile. “Still though, this castle is home to so many legendary works of art, I couldn’t pull myself away from it” I reply this time moving towards his general direction.

“Hi, I’m Ashley” my introduction came a bit late, but it was better to lead with it than to put it off for later. “I’m looking for the book of Thoth, I have scoured every corner of Akebulan (Africa) looking for any translated form of the book, yet I’ve found nothing,” I explain with my hands folded across my chest. I didn’t do it to incite hostility, rather because I literally didn’t know what to do with my hands.

Thoth was the Egyptian god of knowledge; do I actually believe this thing was a god? No, I don’t. I believe the Egyptians referred to revered beings as gods; almost how the people of Kalli do, as a term of endearment. The book itself offered a lot more about the time period than what the White dominated media would have my fellow Gods and Goddess’ believe. Medicine, Astrology, Geometry, Temple manufacturing all topics supposedly covered in the lost manuscripts, things I needed to find.

In the present day the only thing I could find that supports any concrete evidence that the book even exist was Aleister Crawley’s book on Thoth’s tarots and of course like every White person at that time—he profited from it.

My eyes scan the room for just a second; the interior is literally laced with a plethora of Egyptian artifacts, a lot of them I’d never even seen before. “And judging from this room. I might’ve found what I was looking for,” I say extending my hand towards a Horus fixture. Obviously, I don’t touch it, but there was a certain otherworldly force that called out to me; probably felt my connection to the Benin Empire.

--A people that were eventually annexed by the British. Why does he have these artifacts, I think to myself; could he not see how important an image these things are to my people? He probably couldn’t be paid to care.

“May I have a tour of your Ancient Egypt section? “ I ask dropping my extended hand. “And if I’m not overstepping my bounds. How were you able to keep this place hidden for this long?”

@shanana: (dig the new direction Sha. Cool concept. Will get something up shortly)

Thanks and ok

@shanana:

"You may, but I believe I can save you a considerable amount of time."he said with a cavalier wink. His arm stoically elevating as his fingers performed an intricate set of contortions, manufacturing an esoteric permutation of illuminated 'seals.' "Did you know it is skeptically believed that Thoth may have authored as many as 36,525 books?" pausing as a plethora of glowing pieces of ancient parchment were telekentically summoned and forced to swirl around Ashly's position. "The Montessi is home to 36,522 of them." It wasnt a boast, rather an honorary distinction. For Nikademuis was a firm believer in "true" history. History that had been concealed or destroyed out of the conspiratorial weakness and fear of lesser mortals. And there was simply no argument that the Nubian race had been the victims of historical perversion like no other race before. Nikademus dare not assume to fully understand the sound bender's inner struggle, her motivations. Yet the mathematical accumulations he witnessed taken form around her slender frame bordered on a level of intuitive precognition in which to build a profile from.

"As far as the secrecy of the Brick, well, I sadly can not take credit for that."still constructing his fingers as he composed the sections into a manuscript. Which then fell directly into Ashly's hands. "The Brick protects and guards itself. Just as it and it alone decides who is worthy of its inner secrets. It has given you a great gift. In return should it ever call upon you in its defense, you will heed that call, yes?"

@nikademus: The sweet celtic air filled Katsuro's lungs, breathing deeply before entering the eldritch Brick. Black Ferrogamo brogues struck the ancient floor as he made his way in, adorning a civilian's attire. His scarlet eyes beheld the source of numerous great mysteries. The dark legacy of the arcane at the grasp of anyone bold enough to wield it, knowledge long thought lost now mere texts away. However, the Grim Ghost did not come to merely gaze, he had a purpose to travel to the Emerald Isles. His attention was caught when the whispers of Methuselian souls revealed curious rumors. Rumors, he himself thought important to investigate. His pace was slow yet graceful, like a stalking ocelot encased in an onyx Tom Ford three piece suit. His attention transferring to rare Egyptian finds and wondrous alabaster statues as he passed, however they did not impress him as much as they would common folk. He understood this, Nikademus, character may have some insight into much more secretive delvings.

It was not common knowledge that Sir Isaac Newton had been an alchemist who dismissed his own traditional scientific work as minor accomplishments. It was certainly a strange subject, an illegal one, as the English Crown threatened hanging for alchemicatic practices. Especially those in search for the Philosopher's Stone. It was stranger that instead of taking a position at Cambridge, Newton was put in charge of the Royal Mint. Yet, his notes on the mystical where reportedly burned in a fire. Notes of great importance, worth killing for.

Tenjin had heard, through foul necromantic practices, that the notes where not burned at all. For they may have stolen those many centuries ago and transported elsewhere. If indeed this was true, there where few places on this planet to find them if they existed. Fewer people would possess such information and perhaps Nikademus would have some answers. He was almost positive, deathly.

The Hierophant was not disillusioned, as such artifacts would not be kept out in the open nor would their whereabouts be revealed to just interested party. But he was indeed a convincing presence.

As to not disturb the surroundings, Tenjin adjusted his deep rouge tie and golden tie bar about his neck, black rings of weird jewels beautified his pale fingers. Projecting his baritone voice through various planes, although inaudible to the realm of the living, he called upon courtesy of his host. Hoping to get a word, some good wine and a bit of intellectual inquisition.

@tenjin: DAF. Will get something going in a bit

@nikademus: Sounds good bro. Take your time.

@nikademus: Awesome, have you done a character like that before? I don't think I've seen one from you, and a hero nonetheless. Anyways before you dismiss me I have something else I want Ash to inquire about. Will have a post up tommorrow

@shanana: lol not that I can think of. Was always anti-magic lol I did do that one Voodoo character for a week or two. The one who launched the Dark Disney rpg

@tenjin:

While the Sleeper held no such motivation, he never the less understood the nature of the elevated tensions. As such he had begun a grand-undertaking of supernatural archaeology. Beginning with the capture of the Lobisomem Pack, and including the tutelage of the Salem Sect Sanctuary and the proposed assimilation of the League. Invaluable resources in the esoteric enigma's mystical arsenal. A tidal wave of change was coming....only the adaptable would survive.

As customary, Nikademus' man-servant, "Fin Fan Foom," was the first upon the dapper arrival. By no means a magician himself, the diminutive Asian cleric did however possess an unnatural affinity for the supernatural. His polite and inviting body language suggested (never demanding) that the nefarious Grim Ghost follow him to a nearby study. The golden flaked flashes of illuminated sigils streaked across the timeless glass panels of the castle. Conducting its own sentient sets of secretive sorcery. "He shall be with you shortly." the servant stated with a submissive bow.

Cascading ceremonial robes of aristocratic intrigue draped off the slender frame of the Sleeper as he fluently swayed into the room. Head and face visually obscured by his trademarked hooded infinity scarf and partial facial wrap, wrists and hands tightly bound and bandaged. Instantly he could sense the mystic permutation radiating off the dark one's physical facade. "I must admit"he opened, "Yours is a power I have not yet had the pleasure of observing. If I may be so bold, just what kind of magnificent are you?"his hooded head tilted in curiosity.

@nikademus:

At first I have no idea what he’s alluding to, I’ve search for this book for months now; and he seems to have all the tools to grant me what I wish within the first 30 minutes of my arrival. His mystic energies dance like freshly lit incense in the air around us, before depositing the long sought after “book” of Thoth in my own bronze tinted hands. I was so surprised at what he’d done that I stumbled over his inquiry. “I-I did know” I say glancing down at the manuscripts laden with thick Egyptian print. I was able to make out a few of decrees written in the manuscript, but some of the others I hadn’t actually seen before, not that it was a big deal; because I knew there was someone in Kalli that could decipher what it all meant.

“Thank you,” I say genuinely grateful for what he has done. My eyes slide from the book, back up to his; there’s still a ton about this place that I don’t understand—and probably won’t from my initial visit, but. “It has my word, should it ever need me I will be here to fully support it”.

I prepare for my departure until something else hits me, another…problem to deal with. “This place seems to have knowledge of every known time period spanning back to creation itself.” I say moving close unclipping a capsule from the inner most strap of my dress.

Hitting the small button on the underbelly of the capsule; the small spherical device digitized into an emerald tinted blade in the shape of a dragon.

“This is the Green Dragon Blade” It’s a sword that the Chinese Empress Xiao Zing used during her conquest shortly before the rise of the Han Dynasty.” I say presenting the blade for him to inspect.

“The Flower of Carnage and The Legendary Black Rose blades. These blades, along with the Green Dragon Blade, belong to the Green Dragon Empress Xiao Zing, or Y-intercept. They are essentially the keys to stopping her; coincidentally they are also the keys to her power. She walks the earth as an immortal mortal, if that makes any sense. However, she’s a shell of what she used to be.”

Back when Ziccarra and I were in the Brave hearts together, we found the dragon empress’ tomb and took both The Green Dragon Blade, which I have, and the Black Rose Blade, which Ziccarra had. Since Ziccarra’s death I have no clue what happened to the BRB, but the Flower of Carnage is an even bigger mystery.

I need to find these blades, the Ziccarra era of my life was a huge Eff fest, but that’s almost nothing compared to what will happen if Y-intercept some how gets a hold of the blades.

“Are you able to locate either of the other two blades?” I know the BRB was buried with Ziccarra somewhere in Spain; that’s going to be nasty business in it’self, but the FOC? I can only hope it remains at it’s pedestal.

@shanana: So much adventure!

@nikademus: I guess that's a good thing?

@y_intercept: Its a great thing. Love when people escalate an interaction and bleed it into a large story. The addition of the Blades of Y was an unexpected but badass direction.

I remember you saying you wanted Z's weapons, I figure if Ashley actually gives Nikademus the Green Dragon Blade, I can bring Y-intercept back and have her feud for her weapon.

@nikademus: Tenjin's eyes narrowed as the cleric approached, his deep scarlet gaze scanning the ambassador of the Sleeper. His body language, one of sincerity, beckoned him to the study beyond. Katsuro was far from trusting but he would have to continue to get the answers he sought. So he followed. Using the black lapels to adjusting his suit coat; bejeweled fingers glistening in rays of ruby, silver, jade and amber. The Arcane Assassin steps where both light but powerful, the strides of a man both learned in sword and spell.

As they entered the study, Tenjin nodded to his strange eastern compatriot as he left, not sure based on features alone from what land he had once hailed from. Taking it upon himself to slowly pour from a beautiful crystal decanter the ancient blood red wine nearby. He lifted the glass to his nose and took in the wonderful scents of plum, berry and spice with clarity only years of age can bring. The seemingly innumerous texts that surrounded him was note worthy, records of John Dee, Nostradamus' Lost Texts and other various Occult documents. However, the Living Shadow became only more certain of the true collection his host would harbor. Due to the fact, that treasures such as these displayed openly only meant others, much more prized, were present.

Making a mental note of this he pressed his almost grey lips against the rim of the glass to ingest its pleasures, only to turn around to face Nikademus as he entered. His voice ringing in his ears as he gulped down the wine like a voracious wolf, quite unappealing to a man with a certain measure of class. However, since his body, from the exterior perspective became evidently man, he relished such simple luxuries and had no used for elegant table manners.

In retort to the Masterful Mage's question, he spoke, keeping his true nature of the origin of his foul sorcerer enigmatic "I am both a witness and messenger...of sorts. And perhaps, you will never see another such as I again." Forming a half efforted smile. His eyes laced with a sinister knowing, dark secrets and sights of infernal awe and madness. His tongue was as forked as a serpent's, metaphorically, as he began. "Yet, we are kin, you and I. Both children of the Great Arcana, it's sons and daughters...and it would indeed be a pity to keep things from each other."

Setting the glass down on a carved mahogany table Tenjin's deep voice sounded "I am not a deceiver, dear brother. I would make my intentions known to you openly. I would hope you would provide me the same respect." From the table the Red Eyed Fiend's eyes shifted up to the mysterious majesty of the Brick. "I am searching for something of grave importance to me."

#AWESOME

@tenjin: Mystical Tenjin, how has this not been a thing until now lol dope post

@nikademus: lol I been damn near everything else :P Thanks bro.

There is a tale.

A tale of an ancient weapon buried in the haze of time, once wielded by an immortal being; lost in his unthinkable demise.

The tale starts as any other would...

In times long lost to the mists of history the preternatural group known as the Strigidae were born. This group an eternal organization devoted entirely to the liberation of mutant kind and their eventual mastery over earth -- A mastery which the Strigidae has regarded as their evolutionary birthright since the dawn of the mutant.

At some point a tyrant named 'Zythium' rose to power within the Strigidae ranks and concocted a rather sinister scheme to rule the group.

Zythium was a titan made of a living metal, a titan that eventually went insane. Mad with the lust for power.

Zythium was capable of absorbing vast amounts of energy; Eventually absorbing enough energy, fueling his desire to take over the Strigidae once and for all. There was a mighty civil war yet Zythium was struck down, defeated, his name was left in ashes, his legacy never born.

Time passed, and the Strigidae engaged in another long forgotten and ancient war; one against an enemy of almost celestial, divine might.

The Strigidae was forever fractured and many forced to flee to Earth. Millenniums came to pass before the warrior known as Amaranth was created, alongside his brother, named simply Pyro for his fiery personality. The two were genetically gifted (or cursed) with immorality, made to serve, and amuse their human masters in a gladiatorial ring for all eternity. The brother to Amaranth was granted a powerful weapon; forged out of Zythium's remains. This new metal, no longer a living metal such as Zythium, was named Xanthium.

It was said the Xanthium hammer awarded it's wielder the power to slay God's and the might to defeat all who stood in their way. However, wielding the hammer did not come without it's cost.

The tyrant Zythium was forever charged by all of his claimed energy -- Binding the energy into his body in space and time, and once the hammer was created, the energy was imbued into the Xanthium metal. This energy is also what drove Zythium insane.

It is said any whom wield the hammer can tap into the leftover residue of the energy that drove Zythium mad.. vastly amplifying their powers but driving them into a berserk with rage. Neither friend or foe safe.

The Angel of Luck had listened to these rumors, knowing that the hammer lay somewhere upon the mortal plane known as Earth, Zaniel had visited Earth many times... Maybe simply because he had been banished from Olympus many millenniums ago. Using his knowledge and resources, the archaic Spartan learnt of the hammers probably whereabouts, the Montessi DaBrickashaw.

Traversing through the Brick carefully, the Angel of Luck made certain to keep his presence hidden, although knew whomever had crafted such an overwhelming establishment could more than likely discover his venture. Using divine insight and a knack for all things magical, it didn't take long for the Fallen Son of Olympus to lay eyes upon his prize....

@zaniel: Daaaayumn awesome detail

@nikademus: Believe it or not this entire hammer idea (the backstory) was made three years ago by me and LL in a PM, never used it till now.

@zaniel: Your bio is badass too. Was just reading it. you should keep this character in circulation lol

@nikademus: Intend to. Quietus/Zaniel will be my two people for quite a while I think.

@nikademus:

And so, it came, down in the shadow of the new year, that the winter chill brought with it an age of discovery. An age of darkness.

Empires rose and fell. Nations crumbled. But no seat of power would ever compare to that of the Shaytan's eventual glory. For him to gain that throne was a goal of the Phalanx. For him to keep it, would be his own agenda.

The lights flicker, and the stars are dying. Fate is being woven before our very eyes...

For those obsessed with magic, it often begins not with a meeting of faces - but of minds, and souls, within a dream. Such was the power of the Phalanx, that its High Priests could infiltrate the lucid sleep of those they desired to possess or influence. None can say how much history or even if the timeline of Earth has been affected at all by these altercations. But what is for certain is that the hand of the Phalanx is long-reaching, and its tendrils infamous and recognizable. Very few times has the Phalanx attempted to conceal itself once it has been identified, for fear is its hallmark. Yet fear is not what it intends first and foremost.

By all stretches of the imagination, the ultimate goal of the Phalanx is power. And all power demands sacrifice.

That is why the Sleeper was chosen.

Even in the endless webways of his esoteric thought processes, the Phalanx managed to cast a passing whisper in the great oceans of magic pervading all time and creation. Not specific to Nikademus, but cast in his direction, so that he could understand the message. Others might faintly hear the words, but it would merely be a mystery to them. Others might investigate, but none could manage the answer like the Unchained Messiah. None could process its meaning faster.

When it was received, an agent of the Phalanx was also sent to the barrier between worlds. He could not enter unto Earth due to the dimensional gateway barring him and beings of yet greater power. Only the minor creatures of the Void could pass through with minor sacrifice. But a portal was needed for a High Priest, a portal built upon obsidian stone inlaid with bone set like jewels. Fuel to burn, so that the engines of time and space would bend and eventually tear for but a moment.

With the ceremony complete, the gateway closed. From it emerged a man-shaped creature, yet it was obviously no mortal thing. He spoke in the tongues of man, yet could not articulate correctly. It was as if he observed the language being used, and practiced, but something remained incomplete. Broken.

@thisisgonnahurt:

The Al'Shaytan rose from a partially completed throne of iron and Godleaf-Promethium while his life-long scribe, Cyrus, attempted to capture his imposing figure through an illustrated portrait that would forever hang in the halls of the LoS. His visual frustration was evident as the unknown enigma's unexpected arrival had once again caused an interruption and there for a dramatic break-down of creative momentum. "My liege please, we mus..." the scribe's words were unceremoniously cut short by a simple gesture of the Shaytan's hand. "Leave us Cyrus, we'll continue later."Nikademus nodded before paying no more attention to the matter. His focus now tunneling down on the arcane advocate of the so-called Phalanx, curiosity arching along the curve of his raised brow, "Build.....? Build what exactly?"smirking with coy anticipation.

@nikademus: We should launch an offensive

@nikademus:

The new arrival, his mannerisms cold and alien, observed the Shaytan in his vault of metal and dim starlight. A prison fit for a king, so it were, that the windows tracked in very little and left the atmosphere bare and foreboding. A dim coloration, leaving the eyes always tracking towards their inevitable resting place upon the Sleeper. An imposing man, and yet more so within the webways of the arcane.

He, this stranger to a familiar land, took upon the mantle of answering as to why he was here. The road, though long, was easily navigable with the right tribute. Forever were his attentions drawn to the road ahead, his ambitions guiding him for only a minor alteration of judgment. The processes of the Phalanx remained key, and absolute. They could not secure a foothold on Earth just yet. Sending one High Priest, though effectively a path in of itself, did not accommodate for yet greater agents of the Phalanx. They were to need more in the days to come. Time, and effort, were needed. The Empire of the Shaytan needed to emerge.

In a display of ethereal power, the visitor from afar finally revealed his purpose. To keep his new Lord waiting would do him insult. Caressing the iron floor beneath him, he knelt down and placed his hand against it fully - and parted slowly. Behind his fingers, trailing as if on marionette strings, were the whispers of a vast cobweb. A grand design that spread like a virus across the floor, stopping on a specific edge of itself as per pure perfection of thought and making. Not just a city, but also from this blueprint of utopia came a bubble of raw iron - a new world. The Shaytan's world.

"Your destiny, my Lord. I am Krayt'Sathaan. Where you go, your name will echo like thunder."

@shanana: I thought Superior Nobody was coming at us with the Equalizers but I think it faded....? Not gonna lie, I'd like to raid Asgard. If not for control then for some cool artifacts. If not Asgard then some other esoteric thread that is underused.

Raiding Asgard would be cool, but I'm not really sure what it's status is after Gods and Monsters

@nikademus:

It wasn't trust that brought Tyrus to The Brick nor any interest in the super natural...it was need. Her aircraft landed on the front lawn, well announced by its loud engines and turbines and it remained with its engines ready to go once it had landed, just in case it needed to leave in a hurry. Tyrus walked down the ramp without escort, checking the straps on her arm guards as she walked from the ramp to the lush green lawn she didn't pause to admire the architecture or really pay much mind to the guardians that patrolled the building's outskirts. Instead she kept her focus and walked for the front door. Her Battle Mapping abilities had already determined any possible outcomes should she become engaged with the local guardians as well as the possible avenues of escape. She did as she often did and lodged the information in the back of her mind, not concerned with such possibilities for the time being.

When Tyrus arrived at the door and entered the grand hallway she went to one of the hulking hammer wielding defenders and looked up at him. "I'm here to see the master of this place. I have something to discuss with him of great importance. I will wait here." She said and walked to the center of the hallway and stood with her hands clasped behind her back and awaited his arrival with no sign of fear or even wonder in her body language. Nice place, but I don't have time to admire it. This may be one of the most difficult allies to gather, certainly if for no other reason than I believe the others will have trouble working with him. I know the Equalizers won't appreciate it since they're basically enemies at this point. This could be a long day.

@tyrus_: *niiice

Sorry for the delay, was planning on posting today before the game but have been called into work for a couple hours. Will get this out though later tonight.

@nikademus:

Is not a race =).

Sitting to himself his eyes closed awaiting the return of his alleged allies the kineticist took in the air of the place. He could feel the air currents moving throughout the decedent surrounding. A flow of kinetic energy moving subtly through the rooms as the wind flowed through. Electricity passing through the power systems, the thermal updrafts of heat rising from the ground not one aspect of energy was lost to him. But a foreign sense triggered a powerful sense of an exotic and unfamiliar current. The air was thick with it. Taking in a deep breath before muttering "Ahh magic" as he continued to wait

@tyrus_:

Tall and slender, the Secret Seditionist was adorned in all black form-fitting BDU draped over with a tightly secured harness and tactical webbings. Symmetrical, though in todays World of mega-armaments and unbreakable metals, his arsenal was unmistakably dated. A purposeful act as the Supreme Shaytan had not yet deemed his right-hand worthy of further weaponized embellishments. Yet it wasn't an issue, not for Noah. His cunning and guile having been displayed time and time again with an unyielding spirit and indomitable will to survive.

There hadn't been many visitor's to the Brick since Nikademus' accession to the undisputed rank of Supreme Shaytan. Fewer still with the fortitude to execute such a bold and signature arrival, an act that both intrigued and worried Noah. As the last surviving member of the Black House 6, an honor and distinction that had never been taken for granted, Noah had had the luxury of coming up alongside Nikademus during their eventful time within the reconstituted League. Back then it had seemed so simple, but then Abigial resigned and Nikademus, perhaps poisoned by magics beyond his control, began his campaign of cleansing the League. Outlawing assassinations as well as many other antiquated practices. Leaving the old temple behind in favor of his esoteric sanctuary, the Brick. Leaving Noah, now serving as the Supreme Shaytan's exclusive attache and the last living human within his new cabal, struggling to digest the Shaytaan's new philosophy, and rather the former Sleeper realized it or not, he was showing the same xenophobic signs as his legendary father.

"They wont be much help." a low almost hushed cadence explained. Heard before seen, Noah swam into sight from behind the mountains of hammer wielding war-machines. "This way." he coldly ushered, subtly signaling for the new arrival to follow. "Careful" pointing sideways towards the columns of see-through walls. Each displaying numerous unexplained sigils and esoteric markings of the Brick's own cognitive mind. And behind those the horrific faces of demons and displaced refugees from worldly dimensions and alternate u's fluctuated in and out of existence. "She likes to collect the rarities." Noah calmly explained as they continued walking. Intentionally unveiling one of the Brick's many eccentricities before escorting the young woman into the den of the Al'Shaytan;

"And what is this exactly?" Nikademus coldly mused. "Equalizers? Maverick perhaps? No....you're aligned with something more.......strategically selective." Pulling his ceremonial robes closed tightly around his sculpted frame with menacing illustration. Noah silently standing by his Shaytan's side with professional posture and undimmed loyalty. Silently hoping against hope that his master did not order the young woman put down for some violation of an unknown decree. As the mathematical mystic slipped deeper and deeper into moderated madness.

"Speak your proposal little soldier, and have your words measured." the Shaytan concluded.

@noah_noble:

Tyrus nodded and followed after the strange man. She kept as alert as ever, her battle mapping quickly accounting for changes in their surroundings as they moved through this most unusual of buildings. The Director of STRIKE smiled a little at his comment. "Who doesn't like to collect things?" She asked, though her own collection was a little more mundane. Collections were interesting, they said a great deal about the personality of the person, or in this case entity, that collected them. A single glance at her own collection of GO tables would inform even a casually informed onlooker of her tendencies and preference for certain aspects of Eastern culture.

The Phase One Tyrant took mental notes of the building, though she didn't bother trying to memorize the pathway they took. It's entirely possible with a sentient building and this much magic that the building itself is capable of changing its internal geography. No point in memorizing any of that.

Tyrus watched the Supreme Shaytan move with intellectual and biological curiosity. His status as an alpha male of a powerful organization immediately activated certain instinctive responses she'd lack when she was human. The only outward sign of this was a slight twitch of the fingers on her left hand as she sought to keep instinct in check. Now was not the time to go about challenging someone just to see if they were worth reproductive effort. That's really annoying. "I am Tyrus, the Director of STRIKE." She told him when he made his comment. She didn't respond to the 'little soldier' comment. She pulled a device from her belt and held onto it but for the time being she left it inactive. "You are familiar with the species known as Time Siphons."A statement rather than a question. She knew what had happened in Black House, she also knew that Sahi was a Time Siphon. "They're coming our way." She said and activated the device, it was a holographic projector.

"In fact, I have cause to believe at least one of their vessels is already here. I have already spoken to The Shogun of Venezuela, you were next on my list. We are forming a War Council of the most powerful and resourceful individuals on the planet. The Time Siphon civil war is going to hit our planet like a super nova and we need to be prepared for it. I doubt I need to explain the difficulties an entire armada led by Time Siphons could cause...but I will explain something else."

Tyrus shifted the image to one of the previous incarnations of Raeyn. "Time Siphons change in power over time, depending upon how much temporal energy they consume. The one encountered in the Black House was fairly low level. At their height they can consume whole galaxies. We're fortunate in that they have no particular interest in just consuming all of us, they're coming for a specific purpose. This person is one of them, rumors suggest they are the oldest and most consistently powerful. Their name is Raeyn and they have disappeared. I want you on the War Council, I also think you stand the best chance of finding Raeyn...whatever physical incarnation it happens to have at the moment."

@tyrus_:

A decorative display of streaming numerical formulas, ever changing, ever evolving, framed the True Shaytan's optical observation. Sub-consciously educating the newly anointed messiah of the LoS on a seemingly never ending array of geometric probabilities. As the genetic hybrid stated her cause, it wasnt until she had invoked the name of the Time Siphons that the Xsoteric became visibly engaged, rubbing his chest as his hyperthyroidic mind methodically recalled the chaotic events which took place inside the desolate kingdom of the now, missing Brotherhood. Particularly the skilled warrior who had irreparably damaged his lungs, as well as the acrobatic foundation in which he had stylishly prided himself on.

Massaging one of the many rings of ceremonial prestige, spread between both hands, Nikademus nodded with genuine intrigue. "A War Council....and alongside the infamous Strigidae turned 'Shogun' no less...an alluring assemblage." Briefly turning his back while cupping his chin. Intuitive precognition silently adapting to the news of a possible invasion and revelation that a secret cabal was being adopted to combat the threat.

"You shall have my support, but on one condition." Subtly glancing towards Noah before turning back to Tyrus. "For reasons which hold detrimental consequences, I can not be seen as aligned with the Strig" his tone and demotion of title both representing of his unapologetic disdain, "And for that reason my physical association must be represented through an external extension of myself."Unfolding his arm towards the former LoS assassin turned right hand of the Shaytan. "While he is only human he remains quite resourceful, enigmatically so. He is a skilled combatant but his true skills lay in the art of stealth and espionage, infiltration and sabotage. " Pausing a moment, giving the STRIKE director a moment to digest his proposal. Fully aware that any direct association between him and the Shogun would be perceived as a betrayal by unnamed parties. "Accept my terms and through this man you shall have my support, the support of the Supreme Shaytan."

@supreme_shaytan: not stinging on new account. Locked out of posting will post when i can.

@cassius_knightfall: I still cant believe the alt apocalypse that cross-over had. Its insane really.