2008-06-24 (PreU) b. Taking over the Wrong Way

From TwistedMUCK
Revision as of 04:35, 6 October 2014 by Marr0w (Talk | contribs)

Jump to: navigation, search


Taking over the Wrong Way

Summary:



Who: Valtiel, Alessa, Senior_Diablo, Rystan
When: June 24th, 2008
Where: The Twisted World


Alessa-icon.gifRystan-icon.gifSenor Diablo-icon.gifValtiel-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.


The Twisted World

You have left the Twisted Street. Wether a mistake or on purpose, you find yourself out in Twisted World. As soon as your foot leaves the pavement, the street disappears from behind you. The wind picks up into a desert storm, dirt beneath your feet, then changes into a gentle grassy plain, the sun warming your body. You then find yourself in a frigid wasteland, nearly on the verge of freezing to death, and then you find yourself upon a long black expanse of nothing. Complete and total emptiness. The world continues to change and bend around you, and there is no rhyme or reason to the madness. Sometimes, the setting will stay for awhile, but then creatures and beasts tend to appear, hungry for souls, hungry for flesh, hungry for you.


Valtiel drags his spear along the ground as he painfully brings himself down the street towards the chaotic 'world'. He travels until he finds his master amoungst the chaos twirling around in what seems to be raining blood and giggling. Leaning on his spear he stands silently and watches for several moments before commenting, "Ssssso... thisss was the placcce they voted upon? ...how appropriate..."

Alessa says, "Isn't it? This will be wonderful. We can spread out from here. And the Council? They don't care enough to stop us." She giggles and spins.

Today's just another day in the search for Sayuri. Rystan's fiancee managed to get herself nice and disappeared recently, and he's been looking for her more often than not. The problem is, he never dares stray too far from home. The Lotus makes an excellent guard for his children, but even she has her limitations. The children are much safer with two guardians, as opposed to one. When did he become a father? Tch. If they weren't so damned cute, he'd leave them to fend for themselves. Stupid cuteness. He's climbing along a tower, intending to reach the top and pillage its doubtlessly bountiful treasure chests, when it disintegrates into thin air, and he finds himself falling hundreds of stories to the ground. "...Tch. That happens way too often around here." He slings his dagger straight down to the ground, where it happens to fall /right/ in between Valtiel and Alessa, as a matter of sheer unfortunate coincidence, and suddenly, he's atop the dagger, balanced on its hilt like some kind of insanely skilled acrobat. Oh wait. He is one. Hmm. He looks up at where the tower used to be with an annoyed look on his face, before glancing towards Valtiel and Alessa. "... Hmm? Don't get a lot of visitors 'round here. What c'n I do for ya?"

The shadows about the ground begin to swirl and from them comes the form of Senior Diablo. He eyes Valtiel carefully before turning his attention to Alessa with a show of distaste. "Actually we do care. -I- care. And I'll have you know, Alessa dear, that there are more subtle ways of handling things than showing up in the middle of Twisted and stiring everything up like this." He slowly begins to smile. "However, I hardly think that matters. Go ahead. Let's see how annoyed Twisted's Council will be when you-!" And suddenly the trio becomes a quartet...

Valtiel lowers his head towards the newcomer and readies his spear to strike at the stranger's heart. Coming between Alessa and her guardian is never a good idea.

Alessa laughs, as she stops to face Rystan. "Do for us?" She giggles, in her creepy little girl way as barbed wire snakes it's way from the ground up around Rystan's blade. "Nothing at all." Turning to Diablo, she stares. " I wasn't talking about the Hell Council, and I'll do things in whatever way I feel like doing it. I've been around long enough to have that right."

With a raised eyebrow Diablo blinks at Alessa's words. He bows towards her, "A simple mistake, dearest Alessa but do not forget we are equal - placed in positions to maintain a balance and not to destroy it." He looks back to Valtiel and shakes his head, "You should relax sometime, minion. I don't think our new friend is stupid enough to challenge your Goddess."

Valtiel takes in Senior Diablo's words and sighs heavily, his body relaxing with another series of painful sounding pops and snaps. Returning his spear to the ground to lean on it once more, the beast shakes his own head. "Thissss world is too troublessssome..."

Rystan glances down at the ground as barbed wire starts to curl around his dagger and makes an irritated sound before waving a hand off to one side, appearing on that side, rather than between the trio of them. His dagger is in his hands again, though, instead of in the ground, and has no barbed wire on it. Hmph. "...Hey, watch the blade, babe. It cost me a lot of time and effort to steal." He glances at Valtiel, then at Diablo, and then at Alessa for a long moment, and then snaps his fingers. "I've got it!" He leans in close to the three of them with a dreadful expression. "...You're a cosplay group aren't you?" ..... ... Cricket. Cricket. Cricket.

Alessa says, "Well, Senior, since you love introductions so much, please, tell the young man who we are?" She ignores his comment about equality. Besides, she didn't do anything, except get a report from her minion, on the top side. All those people, well, they just came to watch a show.

Senior Diablo grins widely at the request and is clearly more than happy to oblige. "Ahhh, yessss. The tall man in the painful guise is Valtiel, servant of the 'Goddess' Alessa whom you see before you now, and as for myself my proper title is Senior Diablo. We serve the Council of Hell and as we've tired of having to sneak in and out of your world through the cracks like roaches, we've decided to 'branch out'. Congradulations, we're your new neighbors..."

When Alessa calls him a young man, there's the hint of Rystan's lips twitching, as though he was going to smile but thought better of it. "New neighbors, huh?" The thief scratches his head and looks towards the three of them for a moment. "Tch. Somebody shoulda told me. I'da brought some jello... or whatever you do when you get new neighbors. I haven't had any in a while." He pulls his other dagger, the white one, out and starts flicking out the tower's bits from under his nails. Climbing is dirty work, sometimes. "...From Hell, huh? Nice place. I've been. Well. Almost, anyway. Turned me away at the gate, said they didn't want me. Tch. Talk about jerks." .... ... Despite their introduction, he doesn't really know who he's talking to, does he?

Alessa smiles, and sits down in a chair that's appered, looking rather burnt. "Oh no, we'll take anyone. Feel like joining an army?" She giggles.

Senior Diablo continues to smile at at the conversation. He's taking great enjoyment out of all of this. However, Valtiel seems less than thrilled. He steps before the mausoleum's gates, plunges his spear into the soil, and leans upon it sending the bladed tip through his throat and out the backside. As he falls limp upon it a pool of dark blood begins to form as his life runs freely onto the ground. The pool grows larger and larger until it makes a perfect circle extending around him. Suddenly the ground beneath it seems to fall away transfiguring this pool of blood into a bottomless pit. Thousands of platforms and grating seem to criss-cross in the lower levels as well as an unearthly reddish-orange glow which seems to radiate from unseen flames. A horrible grinding noise also radiates from the pit as if the ground below where nothing but miles and miles of machinery and... the faint sound of screams? Valtiel remains perched at the mouth of the madness on a pedistal of sorts which remains beneath his feet. As they watch his body shifts into that of one of the Pyramid Heads which Alessa controlls. Apparently the servant of 'God' wasn't stupid enough to throw himself away to become nothing but a morbid fixture...

Rystan blinks and tilts his head to one side, glancing off as Valtiel heads over to the Mausoleum. He seems to take a bit of interest in the fact that the strange, pained looking guy is nearing the mausoleum, but as long as he and the blood pool stay outside the gates, Rystan doesn't really make any moves to stop him. "An army? ... Sorry babe, I don' do armies. And I'm not really a big fan of hell, they just wouldn' let me in when I died. Thanks for the offer though. You know, you're kind of cute. In a creepy, lolita kinda way. You'll be a real looker when you grow up." ... One day, perhaps, Rystan will learn to choose his words with greater care. He doesn't seem to notice he's done anything wrong though, turning to glance at the devil. "... And dude? Wicked horns."

Alessa says, "Grow up? Child I am older then time itself." Wow, quite an ego there, huh? As Valtiel spears himself, the ground trembles and what looks like a hospital rises, throwing dirt and chunks of cement everywhere. The immediate area around the building goes Silent hill-est. A permenant fog rolls around it and a sign pops out from the ground, with an amusing cartoonish *boink*. It reads 'Alchemilla Hospital'. "Ah, a place to call home." She grins, wire fence sectioning off parts of the yarding.. grey children crying against the metal, cutting themselves as they try to push through.

Senior Diablo chuckles, "Well... we've certainly found ourselves leaving an impression here. I do wonder how long it will be before Twisted's Council comes to see where the sudden flow of darkness is coming from. You do excelent work Miss Gilespie, I think I'm off to see what preperations we'll have to make to give our own innocent passage here without releasing the undesirables." He smiles, "...too many of them, at least." As the words leave his lips he falls into his own shadow which plunges hungrily into the hellpit. Things will never be the same here, will they?

Beasts of Silent Hill flow in, another Pyrmid-head dragging a Great Knife, appers. "Hmm, I hope the nurses are comfortable." Well, no, she doesn't. There's no point in comfortable for terror monsters. Alessa looks to Rystan. "I hope none of my friend leave unloving presents on your grass." She cackles and walks into the Hospital, the pavement/grass beneth her feet cracking and charring, leaving things disfigured, as it trys to spread through the madness and gain contorl. It'll take a long while, but the madness fits in for the moment.

Rystan tilts his head again, watching everything and making a small sound. "Tch. It's not exactly my front yard, but a good neighbor'd go discussing changes with her other neighbors before changing stuff, dontcha think?" He doesn't sound all that irritated, though he watches the pavement crack and charr, spreading throughout the area. When it reaches the gates and walls of the mausoleum, however, the cracks and charring abruptly cease a few feet from the edges. There's not even a contest or a transition or weakening. The area simply remains untouched. Furthermore, if the cracks intend to pass the mausoleum, they have to go around, they can't go under, either. If the corruption tries to spread too far underground, it will find the same sudden stops about twenty feet down... /everywhere/ in the Wrong Way. That might be worth noticing. In fact, this strange underground presence seems to travel in all directions, though most strongly toward the mausoleum, and towards the center of Twisted street, albeit underground. Hmm. Rystan watches with innocent eyes for a moment, before blinking and looking after Alessa. "Hey, did you say nurses? ...Are they wearin' those pink getups with the short skirts? Maybe I should get wounded more often."

The Pyrmid head turns at the sound of Rystan's, heading towards him, the sound of steel scraping still ringing out. "Come now, you'll learn to love it." The Pyrmid head crumbles into a pile of cockroaches that scurrie and squirm in standard bug fashion.

"Tch." Rystan's voice echoes through the Wrong Way as he heads back into the Mausoleum, since his new neighbors seemed to have headed off. "...All I wanted to know was if they wore those short pink skirts..." Yup. He's got his priorities straight. The gates of the Mausoleum close behind him.



You are not allowed to post comments.


Personal tools