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I don't care.

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I don't care.

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Total Members Voted: 0

Voting closed: January 04, 2021, 02:28:47 am

[19_EgarAlnis]

Welp, time to start writing about the new Line Descendent...

With William as a witness, you sign a liability waiver for the Pirates, dripping a drop of blood into the datapad receptacle, which seals. The Pirates set up the armor a great distance away from the ship. The Naval cannon is aimed, and you are given the key to the pod. After a brief flight you take a deep breath, and, take a backwards step into the armor.

The armor seals you in its embrace, leaving you in darkness. The cloying smell of blood fills the machine, but there is only silence. There's a soft click -- and pain in your neck as the machine slams something into your spinal column, forcing it to pass flesh and into the bone. You twitch, unable to struggle as the machine locks its joints and tightens on you.

You screw your eyes shut, but it changes nothing as you fade out of consciousness.

...

...

...

And from your dream, you awaken to a battlefield, filled with rusting rifles and swords. The ground is mud and craters and blood, strewn with the bones of the dead, rotting corpses and bits of flesh. [Carrion birds] circle above a gnarled and withered tree. They are the only things visible through the rust-colored fog. The birds shift and twist in form -- sometimes appearing as youthful, armored maidens. Sometimes as crones with gnashing teeth and twisting talons. Sometimes as figures of light that burn your eyes to look at it.

A shadow lurks nearby -- all gnashing teeth and writhing blades. All hunger. All rage. Bristling fur. Mottled and scabbed skin. A drumbeat echoes through the fog—an echoing beat resonating with each step the creature takes.

You are not him. This world is not your home -- panic rises. You try to twist your willpower for protection, but there is no response. You are not him.

No one will save you. The music rises in the air as the fog and the slavering monster close in. What are you? You stumble back into a charnel pit -- your bodyguard Zachary stares up at you, dismembered and burned. Doc Mitchell crumpled beside him-- a gangster, his flesh riddled with burns -- fragments of cultists-- Crusaders untold, drowning you in their filth and blood and organs. Eric, Emma, William--

What are you? You look to the skies to see the [birds of carrion] circling overhead, framing a bleeding sun consumed by darkness. The blood begins to drip from the heavens, a flood of red, puddling around your immobile form.

What are you?

[Naturegirl1999]

“I am Phoenix of Sol. This planet we’re on, Mercenary’s Rest, has people on it that are constantly being attacked by the Plague. I intend to stop the plague while keeping the planet in tact, so that the people here can finally live in peace, no longer worrying about the plague. I am Ascended, Mercenary’s Rest is my home, as well as the home of SEED’s people, which I have sworn to SEED to protect.”

[Eschar]

“I am Phoenix of Sol. This planet we’re on, Mercenary’s Rest, has people on it that are constantly being attacked by the Plague. I intend to stop the plague while keeping the planet in tact, so that the people here can finally live in peace, no longer worrying about the plague. I am Ascended, Mercenary’s Rest is my home, as well as the home of SEED’s people, which I have sworn to SEED to protect.”

+1

"I am a god and an enemy of a god - or a Noble."

[Naturegirl1999]

((Assuming the [Merciful God] is YHWH - heh. Merciful is not how I would describe it. But I digress.))

“I am Phoenix of Sol. This planet we’re on, Mercenary’s Rest, has people on it that are constantly being attacked by the Plague. I intend to stop the plague while keeping the planet in tact, so that the people here can finally live in peace, no longer worrying about the plague. I am Ascended, Mercenary’s Rest is my home, as well as the home of SEED’s people, which I have sworn to SEED to protect.”

+1

"I am a god and an enemy of a god - or a Noble."

Calling ourselves a god sounds a bit much, yes we are an enemy of a noble. But the noble’s not a god either.

[Eschar]

Sure. But metaphorically we could be considered godlike. Powerful. And power and destruction seem to be this thing's language, so it's important to emphasize our place in that hierarchy.

Ok, and maybe I just like making grandiose statements as well.

[Naturegirl1999]

I don’t think we should lie to it though. We are fallible, and so is Magnus. Thus neither we or Magnus are gods

[Eschar]

To nitpick: there are fallible conceptions of gods, such as the Greek pantheon and quite possibly the original YHWH

[Hotfire90]

Welp we walked straight into a deadly trap, here's to hoping that we can still save Phoenix.

From the looks of it, the armor is pretty pissed that we're not its original wearer, who may have been another Ascended of another line. Maybe we can appease it by promising to return it to its proper line, or by offering it the head of whoever killed the Demon of the Void.

[Naturegirl1999]

It sounds to me like it wants to know who we are, a reasonable request. How about we not make assumptions right now.

[Superdorf]

((...you went through with it.))
((I took my leave for the night-- and you all went through with it.))
((Why did you go through with it?))

...

...we had our chance at hesitation. That chance is gone. This is Plague tech-- a Plague Lord's kit.
We've controlled Plague tech in past. We've willed abominations to a standstill. We've set Colossi grovelling before us.
We can do it again.

---

We are what we must be.
They named us a demon, and we were a demon. They named us an angel, and we were an angel.
They named us a god, and by the will of Old Sol, it was so.

APOTHEOSIS, ΦΟΊΝΙΞ ΉΛΙΗΣ. YOUR ELDERS ARE WITH YOU.

[19_EgarAlnis]

I care not. Not for this planet or your divinity. Your name unimportant. Your planet, unimportant.

The world blurs, and you stand in an ornate temple, your hands wrapped around the throat of a young man in clean, bright robes. Not much older than you when you awoke in Doc Mitchell's house. A storm of lightning and iron washes over you, slamming into you again and again, but you only tighten your trip. His Willpower fades as his face turns purple. His windpipe snaps.

It takes him a long time to die, but you are patient. Then, when life has left him, you take hold of his forehead and his shoulder. With a strain of your muscles, you rip and tear. Your Pirates cheer when you hold your gory trophy aloft. Blood drips down to the mosiac floor.

God. King. Peasant. Slave. Serf. Thrall. They die the same. You are afraid but you smell the same as I. What are you?

[Naturegirl1999]

“Enemy of the Plague, and Magnus. Ally of those who inhabit Mercenary’s Rest. “
Is it asking for alignment?

[Hotfire90]

I am death and bloodlust.

[Superdorf]

...

...patchwork.
Plague-hunter.

We are many things, demon. What are you?

[ZBridges]

I am freedom, rage, and ash.  I am the exhilaration of battle and the joy born from the destruction of my enemies.  I am you and you are me.