Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
Vorta Helix of Shen Xiu III

Black serenity holds the secrets of the farther spheres,
and echoes caught from the eternal sounds that pass all earthly and diurnal bounds,
are symphonies unto eternal strings.
They rose to power, seizing every world within their grasp...

Unchallenged upon arrival, the fleet of Ngahakzha cruisers engaged their sub-light drives. Completely unimpeded, the vessels charged past Vespae X-6 and the Class II 182's unobserved on sensors piercing through the icy hued vapours of the celestial giants upper atmosphere. Progressing forwards, the Utukku Scanners manoeuvred to the darkside of the Frozen Moon, Isaias eclipsing the world of Shen Xiu III, and this prevented their detection. Steadily approaching closer towards the planet with every passing second, the Imperial Fleet taking note of the invading flotillas degraded sensor performance, including their inferior weaponry, craft and grids.

Darkness churned beneath the black crystal volumetric surface of oracular instruments belonging to the awe-inspiring flagship. The command bridge bathed in 'black light', with an impressive design. Consoles arranged in a sphere around the sovereigns cathedra, including its own control console and displays. Various hues of midnight intermingling with shadows creating a gyrating hive of holographic maps and blue prints of the defending fleet. Programming continuously all the scrumptious information into the Atemporal-HiveMind of the Ngahakzha fleets unparalleled intelligence- telepathically informing admirals and commanders of her direct intentions and their vital information.

Elegantly in regal militia poise upon the cathedra, bio-synthetic tourniquet overlapped with the delicate weaves of spider-silk lace and translucent gossamer displaying long slender legs, sleek torso, and toned limbs with brazen explicitness. Opiate rubicund mouth pursing, offering only but a short plume of icy Thanaterosian breath (Cryomancy), the air caught in seizure like ice cracking a mirror's surface; even the sound shrill scraped harshly across the visuals. Depicting the coquettish harbinger in a seemingly phantasmoric whorl within an ensorcelled darkness' mien. An energy that drew many to its blackened fires. Her thoughts were of the calmness of the void, fluctuating and rippling around them, something else tugged at the threads of her mind.

It may have appeared tactically brilliant that the War Council had ordered the dispersion of military fleets to galactic outposts in order to protect the hival Leviathans and the U'rstholloshan way of life. A mission Xytrinah was certain they predicted would fail, and that it had been ordered merely to cause distraction from other treacherous deeds or to divide in order to weaken its heart. They would be shown the error of their ways in due course, and learn that it was a dire mistake to awaken that beast or to challenge where her loyalty resided. How easily it was to impede such an operation and scatter its remains across the cosmos whilst each vessel vanished from detection in a swirl of arcane voidic blackness.

Staking claim over this particularly alien and volatile galaxy brought new possibilities. Liberated of the task of venturing through the galaxy in search of ideal settlement, the Ngahakzha could finally progress; live the lives they had been promised so many years ago before the Ulaqugl Wars. When Empora'Noctae and Shen society had been resolved in treaty by Imperial decree but then later fell to the birth of the Naz'aakith- now identified as the U'rstholloshan race [restricted data]. Substantial in its numbers with a fleet a thousand times larger than its former size due to the fusion of numerous belligerent forces obtained during victory, subjugation and exile. Empora'Noctae haven already fallen to the ever-consuming new empire, an event that had already brought the Shen Imperials to strict concern.

Power imperative to bring all enemies to death-kneel had been achieved and any form of reckoning sought by the Shen's Commonwealth or Federation for its losses and betrayal, utterly hopeless due to its finances extracted the loss of its main corporations now drained of all resources. Even when thinking back to the myriad thousands of years before, the siege-- the closing days of victory had been sweet and assured. Having beaten the armies back into their only remaining city, even in spite of its numbers, none could do anything to prevent its inevitable defeat. So instead of facing that defeat, the cowardly senate abandoned their great city leaving it to the horrors and pillaging spawn to desecrate and befoul. Therefore no regret came from Xytrinah, having drained the entire senate and their beloved families. One by one each cruelly suffered, voracious appetite snuffing them out like the pinched flame of candlelight... bringing them to the icy embrace of darkness.

Reminiscence brought a malicious pleasure unlike anything in recent memory. Standing idly no more while others reaped the glory of her efforts-- their worth had already established the opinion of being a fruitless and indolent waste, the true purpose having faded with the failure of its previous ruler. Barely a sting to the bareness pangs of the heart, one that no longer pulsated with passion for the Chathla Way. Chuckling with ironic elucidation, Xytrinah's concentration shift and placed mind on the scrutiny of the numerous grids displaying highly cryptic sequences in a cuneiform unknown to the Noctaean scholars upon the VDU holographic interfaces. Implants and via cortical assessment holding the secrets of what they revealed, storing it so that she may study it in the privacy of her own chambers.

Battle stratagem being discussed and determined, never foolish to believe any world was utterly defenseless. Intending fully well that the Shen would detect their approach through hyperspace since the Electro jammers were not to be used in a manner for subterfuge... it was her intention and desire for the Vespae Fleet to know this crushing force was weighing down upon them like the hammer of the Gods. The bulk of battlecruisers were to arrive five minutes before the Hives and remaining combat vessels. Dividing forces in this encounter would hinder and obstruct any counter-manoeuvre that may encumber forward progression.

Employing distraction, sniper and feint tactics- along with firm intent to drop a cynosural field directly on top of the enemy fleet; claiming the system simply by producing overwhelming opposition with numbers so vast that only surrender could be plausible and sensible choice. Taking out their planetary defences and anchoring a territorial claim unit along with sovereignty blockade units would be done in conjunction by a smaller tactical fleet with drones during the battle. Cynosural powergrids already surging with the Strontium Clathrates and interstellar ice-crystals refined into a unique class of liquid ozone. They would either submit or lest they perish in the desolation of the night... trapped within the tangled webs of Death and Change gleaming in the paling light of the stars.

Withholding no plan or desire to depart this galaxy completely and return to lifeless droll of the Ayenian Spirals or the black cinders of fallen dynastys that deserved to be forgotten not remembered by treaties and celebrations at this point; ambition had taken a more rewarding endeavour. Not since these exotic pleasures rested in the palm of hand and within a few short moments, the first wave of cruisers would exit hyperspace and stake yet another claim on a world prominent of sin. Soon, the Apophis Hives, Bombers and Super Capitals (Leviathans) would arrive, bringing these untutored cretins steadfastly under the iron fist of the Ngahakzhan domination. First steps within this system had been the colonization and stated "liberated" citizenship of the Chathla and Elysium people.

Secondly, had been to completely overpower the entire system and thirdly, to instate a pawn in guise regent, acting as the voice for the entire Empora Systems all had come to pass, Shen was all that now presided of the former spiral. Now, it was simply a matter of tightening the security of the system... culling the straggling cattle, tightening the noose, so to speak. Arachnidan domed structures stretched athwart the glimmering void as far as the naked eye could see. Encircling them the countless automated Infiltrator III, EW Interceptors and Combat drones hung suspended and in their hundreds-- the silent sentinels of the 'Segmentum Daiaghsa barriers'. Sphecius and the Apophis XI-VI Interceptors moving into position flanking the destroyers as jammers and scramblers visibly came online across the combat station the grids of the Flagship and Battlecruisers stations.

No sooner did targets begin appearing on the grids (even those thought to be protected by their cloaking devices), the first offensive action of the cruiser portion of the fleet began. Reclining back into the black leather upholstery of her elaborate command chair, attention shifting as eyes gazed upwards to the massive high resolution screen that made up the far wall of the flag bridge. Telepathic communications being constantly exchanged twixt on-bridge personnel, vows of silence always held such high regard and the stars, never failed to offer such a rare lulling quiet. Carrying with her repute quite renowned that it had long surpassed mythical echelon of fleeting admiration... images of the 'Ascended Illustrious Empress' (a bold move on her behalf, but one now claimed nonetheless) portrayed an exceptional perfection that brought unabashed secular thoughts to the minds of countless men who found themselves in close quarters.

Turning towards her right, chin tilting upwards slightly, presenting her countenance towards a more definite and regal deportment. Fine-chiselled beauteous features bathed in the opalescent radiance of the multitudinous screens. A true beauty to behold and one that none within the countless Imperial Courts came close to surpassing or most over explored galaxies through the universes. Transversely, crimson apertures crept into a malignant smile before command issued a sharp series of instructions. With a bustle of activity, crew immediately springing to action, completing all appointed instructions proficiently, as if they were not human and instead perhaps mechanically altered for optimal performance: religiously loyal and dedicated to their regimen.

Tactical officers studiously comparing the calculated time of arrival between the Vespae-Shen fleet and the incoming Ngahakzhan fleet soon to make rendezvous just outside of the largest celestial satellite of the Shen homeworld. Knowing the Ngahakzha's alacrity to be capable of not only out manoeuvring but also covering vast distances in meagre seconds due to highly advanced warp and void drives... presenting yet another massive disadvantage to the awaiting fleet marking the intent of battlefield position. "Empress, we have clear visuals of the enemies Command Battlecruisers and escort 2nd Class Destroyers."

Addressing the ships communications officer directly, prompting the flagship's AI to encrypt communications and open a secure channel to each Battlecruiser in charge of the squadrons, "Advance. Let us see how well their shields hold to the iron fist we yield! Launch drones and let our eyes feast upon the might of the Ngahkzaha. At your leisure Gentlemen.... fire at will!" Calm... unnervingly unemotional- the dispassionate salaciousness of Xytrinah's voice audible. Resounding twixt an oracles revelation and the seductive lips of a woman who held vast power over many intergalactic federations and empires; not to mentioning had seen everything born from the art of war. First officer nodding in compliance, "Yes Empress" then attentively tending to the will of his superior.

All sub-warp engines of the attack flotilla emitted pure fusion in a dazzling display of energy changing formation and direction to intercept the Vespae in full force. By means of misdirection and sheer firing power tactics, they would force the dogs into a corner and see if their bark was worse than their bite. It was if the celestial gates themselves had opened, when the dark firmament lit up with different auroras of stellar flare and emerald radiance. Distance nine million kilometres from interception: thousands positioning into synchronized formation, Cruisers leading with the Harbingers, Destroyers and Frigates nestled in the heart, followed by the Hives and the Interceptors swarming to encompass.

The fleet except the main flagship and its escorting cruisers and destroyers began their momentum towards the Shen's. Moving at five percent of the speed of light, they would cover the distance in well under ten minutes. Opening fulmination bay doors on adjacent sides of each Battlecruiser, thousands of darts took their first steps in the nebulous haze. Darts formed into colossal waves above the fleet, as each opened fire to clear their path across the grids. Incalculable chrysolite illuminated globes of energy in their thousands took journey in the direction of their programmed objectives.

Aboard the Utukku Scanners and Electro's the shipboard sensors detected the cloaked mass of the adversaries yet to exit the slipstream including the mass of detected weapon fire not yet visible but imminent. Admiral A. Uthros gave the order to deploy the 'Novum Aurora' device. For most the deployment of a weapon such as the Nox VI brought with it a heavy burden however years of military service within the Chathla prevented him from displaying emotion. An emaciated, long-limbed man who's facial features were oddly angular, pale and gaunt though common of his species.

This order was relayed to the artificial intelligence charged with controlling each Infiltrator II (each combat armed drone with pulse carbines and grenade launchers) aboard the decoy carriers to lure defense craft in closer towards the inner webs of the battlefield grids. Technically programmed by a separate sequence of modules the unmanned Electro combat drones took flight from the maws of the behemoth Battlecruisers, its short-range powered hyperspace field generator accelerating away from the 'Egg Sack' appearing in the hyperspace window on set coordinates.

Initiating a countdown sequence of the Nox IV, all nodes switching to |active/online| activation by means of data streaming from the Ops frequencies of with the scanners and logistics; weapon sensors automatically pinpointing prime targets, adjusting itself while detonation sequence was initiated.

[Novum Aurora Nox IV> Core Weapon |STANDBY|> Power capacity 60% and increasing].

Cold black eyes still not shifted from the holographic screens floating before her. The fifty or so personnel which facilitated the bridge-crew fastened their harnesses (required for individual safety and stability to ensure order on the bridge during combat situations). Complete concentration positioned on the volumetric screens hovering above stations; scrolling statistics and logistic readouts all a part of the vessels vitals. Operating a spacecraft of this magnitude, maintaining its complete effectiveness and absolute function was no easy task outside of combat let alone within the thicket of Trojans.

Tactic stations opened neutral links attached to the ships mainframe. Connecting through the inviscid flow of the spiral tapestry, using mentally manipulation to intelligently programme assigned security clearance gaining parallel accessibility to all weapons. No longer any just a solitary being or just a crew member of some influential armada.... now they were a 'linked extension' a part of their "specialized" weapon; the only one of its kind. Whether their weapon of choice was the control of the diminishing systems, launchers, plasma projectors, fusion cannons, ion-beam cannons or even the fabled Novum Aurora itself, every weapon swiftly came online.

Brought to mind only by a faint reminder through the hival helix and the audible metallic resonation from twin auxiliary chambers robotics loading the railguns primary set of rounds into dual noctrinium compartments. Sapient disembodied voices whispered throughout the bridge, the Atemporal Hivemind further adhering to quantum cognitions and semantics.

[Tech III Railguns |ARMED| Activate ALL Launchers| Load Antimatter Hybrid Turrets |ONLINE| target sequences |LOCKED|> Catalyst charges |LOADED|] FIRE >>>

Turrets taking aim followed by the first volleys of lethal hybrid ammunition erupted. Primarily the firing of the turrets was relatively silent considering the power and force behind the rails. Insignificant clatter and vibration capacitor hums too faint to transmit noticeably through heavy armor. Explosions flawlessly orchestrated, sanguineous beams slicing into the flank of a stationary ship until hulls melted and ruptured into blazing conflagrations. Pieces scattering like dust among the rank and file of maelstrom and debris. Battle station visuals on the bridge flaunted the magnificence. Engines accelerating with frightening speed bringing course to counter-manoeuvre and obstruct isolated targets from rejoining the mass, sniping through the Shen one by one mercilessly.

Delphini attack ships ambushed to isolate, flat dark gunmetal shading adorned with flashing running lights to the abdomen gleamed heinously in the sporadic flashes of pulse and explosion. Casting shadows over symmetric angles and off-balance appearances, there was no mistaking their presence. Electronic Interceptors equipped with close-range weaponry, jamming and scrambling capability encumbering navigation, preventing external communication, jamming weapon sequences and target locking. Wave after wave smaller vessels engaged solitary targets, descending in squamous mass, a furious storm. Interceptors dodging and weaving, maximizing position before striking like the black rain of a thousand arrows.... piercing the still heavens to silence the angels.

Noticeably the Shens or "Celestials" as they so liked to call themselves, did not foresee such a possibility, even in their advanced technologies that in the past crippled worlds and brought Empires to shackles. Comparably, their defenses were weaker, relying too much on EM shield reflectors and other outdated sentient bio-mechanisms. Lack of coherence and interoperability in Vespae fleet meant that they could not cope with the sudden appearance of this formidable onslaught. Unable to reply on treacherous communications and offering of deals due to rigid strategic, failing to realize what was happening up against a more superior force. One that had no intention of standing down or accepting deal that would later prove just as worthless as the Shen Emperor, Th'Alyntho. Evidence of his authenticity still stained the walls scarlet of the now derelict Necri Imperial Hive.

[Novum Aurora Nox IV> Core Weapon |STANDBY|> Power capacity 80% and increasing].

"Empress, they are attempting to establish communication, shall I open the comms?"
Eydis uttered with a stern promptness.
"Request denied. Terminate fire and wait further orders... " Visual lists appearing with defined clarity in the frontal lobes of Xytrinah's psyche, infused through the stored memory of the Wraiths, selecting through the hybrid artillery. In her regard their was nothing they could offer, and they had nothing she was interested in to set terms to- except their 'complete' destruction.

"Yes Empress" replied the First Communications Officer. Attentively transferring to the tactical station since duty was better placed where her talents and expertise proved useful. This obviously wasn't going to be a situation where resolution, diplomacy or exchanges of peace were to be heard let alone considered.

Eydis Zavaleta, being one of various proud and spirited souls serving in the Imperial flotilla under the present Black Phoenix Empress who sat only yards away from where she stood. A former orphaned slave child, now one of innumerable whose blood boiled for revenge on those who tormented her people, the Shen. Wearing the Imperial crimson uniform ornamented black and gold trimmings, hands covered by detachable dark leather, as the rest of her physique. A light flak jacket with a few symbolical pins attached to the shoulder region of station and achievements, ensemble complete by the iconic dog-tag flora insignia dangling just over her heart. Ironically, Eydis wore her vest openly, revealing only what one could deem as a joke of a cleavage and was more masculine than feminine. It still remained a topic on the lips of multitudes.

Instantaneously all fire terminated... an eerie silence crept over the crew, perceptions continued on full alert, nobody thought it had ended; none even dared resound in any bouts of victory. The flagship hadn't moved yet; it rarely moved to engage in the full skirmish of warfare on the front-lines until the third or final waves of assault. Connecting to the Zâashâcheria Atemporal Hivemind: through the inviscid flow of the spiral tapestries flowing throughout Xytrinah's system. Vocal announcement chimed across the grids, "Engage second group. Commence second wave of attack..." Dull reverberation of hybrid railguns being mechanically inserted, new hybrid rounds of antimatter and dark fusion ready for the next siege. Thuds of drone bay doors opening again notified the crew to brace themselves for more, this time in the heart of battle.

[Novum Aurora Nox IV> Core Weapon |STANDBY|> Power capacity 100% full capacity] >> [Necro Interceptors> |ONLINE| |ENGAGE|].

Quantum Computing connected to the main SI sensors, distinguishing the phase, intensity and impact point of all incoming enemy fire. Matching the plasma cannons to the exact equivalence of the enemy's fire and utilizing it in crossfire streams of returning and intercepting fire from the ship's hull where each had been strategically positioned. Aggressively mocking the Shen shield stratagem, employing the Vespae counter-attack methods against them-- except without the inadvertent flaws caused by the fatal error of their own defectively planned operation. "Engage battle", Engines flared to life, the low, reassuring thrum of battleship thrusters... enemy drones and rounds engulfed in an aura of ion-trails.

Turrets taking aim and firing in rhythmic unison, blood-red beams slicing into the side of a stationary ship until the vessels golden hull ruptured, pieces of it scattering like dust among the stars. Battleship after battleship exploded in violent bursts of light under the attack from the flagship leaving the Shen and the Vespae forces in a position they had not been in before. What could they do but press on and die? Swooping in, drones and frigate forces caused even more disorientation, ranged cruisers supporting them with laser-fire over a distance and the titanic Mothership firing blast after blast of its extreme-range weapons; cannons created specifically for this battle sending the rival forces into utter disarray.

For hours streams of glaring light lit up the system, nimble Interceptors diving into the gathering of competing crafts. Smaller vessels holding the Ngahakzha line prevented Vespae squads from coming close enough to fire upon their nemesis, leaving their fleet defenseless against the relentless tsunami of Imperial supremacy. The succeeding assemblage of Shen decreased with those that followed, leaving quarter of capable cruisers hadn't yet engaged in defense or evasion. Half of the residual armada already engaged waited for the final front, their hesitant forces in rapid decline. Pleas for mercy were not heard, just as the supplication of the Delphini people had gone ignored as they were butchered to the last child before their beloved Emperor. His gifts.

"Eye for an eye, as it is from iron to fire. " Xytrinah
delivered the words both accompanied; caressed by the void and the various ‘hival’ ethereal' whispers throughout the howling tapestries with a crystalline cold clarity .

But the torture before Th'Alyntho's final retribution was to display most keenly the murderer's schist tortured across the hulls of the entire Z'ash'cherian, Ngahakzhan, Z'shoth Arm, U'rstholloshan, the war-leviathans of the stars and infamous Kassogtha Leviathan before the eyes of his people.

Formation systematized itself into a confusing pattern, one mimicking the formidable Z'shoth Arm- U'rstholloshan military pride and the 'other' something none had witnessed to what was close to an epoch- Saatthan. Fearful arrangement of nightmarish capacity, numbers so vast they blocked out the celestial luminaries, such a mass not seen since the extinguishing of that voidic black star. Procession spread-out, designed to amplify the ghastly effect of the Novum Aurora. Relay-reflect mirrors animated lifted, revealing itself to the enemy's (hiding its true purpose) as the weapon opened fire. Ionizing radiation and energetic photons morphed into necrotic rays. Blinding light, erupting light not of visible spectrums. Searing heat hotter than the surface of the sun. Deadly pulses radiating forth in perfect spherical accumulation; ever- expanding then spreading traversal to an area one quarter that of the moon.

Detonation scalded the firmament, light raced in all directions, illuminating and engulfing everything in its path. Cruisers fortunate enough to be within forty kilometres of ground zero were instantly atomized within the violent tide of white-fire expanding in a seemingly endless barrage towards the remainder of the cruisers those within four hundred miles of ground zero absorbed instantly. Hulls withered, and burst open; cell death extinguishing the visages of life from the organic biological armor. As the bombardment progressed, the now dead vessels broke apart, leaving nothing more than dead husks wrapped around crumbling framework where once a vessel had stood.

Further out, cruisers absorbing the unseen killer and the intense ultraviolet radiation suffered separate fates. As the ultraviolet radiation scorched the outer hulls, the biological armor began to char. In compartments nearest the dying out skins, internal atmosphere combusted, creating a firestorm that raced through open compartments. Those unlucky enough to have been spared the cremation absorbed hundreds of times the lethal dose radiation. In each case, DNA broke apart as cell death spread. Many of these victims would live an hour or two longer, but that life would be one of agonizing torment. Fourteen cruisers at the outer fringe of the sprawling formation remained somewhat functional.

Outer hulls were badly charred, and in irradiated beyond salvage, they were still intact. Those operating these vessels considered themselves lucky to be alive. What they did not know was that their lives would end in a handful of hours. Radiation poisoning would tear their bodies apart cell by cell, as each victim drowned in their own vomit. Across the solar system rapid contagion and emissions subjugated. Impacting shields and vessels present, each craft found their shield strength diminished by ten to twenty five percent. Sensor sensitivity was instantly diminished to a fraction of its former self. View screens automatically polarized to compensate for the intense light and ultraviolet radiation radiating in all directions.

Holographic displays over all combat visuals and consoles of Electro confirmed the victory, its crew sat in shock and admiration. Never before had they ever seen such a devastating sight-- in the black distance, it looked as if a second sun had appeared for a few short seconds however instead of bringing life, this sun had wrought nothing but death, destruction, and devastation. "We are death, the destroyer of worlds. We do not bequest salvation, glory, or joy. We bring death and destruction. We destroy starships the way others would kill insects, we devastate armadas of war and find it comforting. This is why they call us gods. They fear us, and so they should." Xytrinah whispered.

"Commence orbital bombardment."

Destructive energy weapons firing in the direction of the Shen homeworld, this firing sequence would continue until the planet was conquered. The 'Wrath of Z'ash'cheria', gleaming black in the sparkling effervescent starlight... sleek-- sliding into the vacuum reminiscent to a dart cutting through water. Sublight and warp engines emitting a solitary flare of thrust before flickering temporarily then vanishing beneath the stars. Behind the Z'ash'cheria, the hulking, desolate strongholds of the destroyers, cruisers descended upon the last fragments of the Vespae convoy, heralded by the birthed arrival of the Leviathans, Capitals and Hives through the cynosural fields.

Tenebrous arachnidan silhouettes asphyxiated everything in the obsidian maws of its gargantuan embrace. Dimensions looming over the ruinous fleet, bearing witness to the Wraths departure and another Imperial claim to victory: the seizure of Shen Xiu III along with the slaughter of the Imperial family and the deterioration of its deceiving empire.
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Iɴ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴇxɪsᴛs ᴀ ғɪʀᴇ; ᴀ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ ʙɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʀᴏsᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ﹐
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴜᴍᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴍᴀ ᴏғ ʀɪsᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ sᴄʀᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴏғ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴs﹐ ʙʀɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴏғ ɪᴛ.

Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The Imperial 1st Anniversary: K'ctha-Zoth Imperial Prime World.

Because science has lit a few artificial lights amid the darkness of things-- man tends to forget that the darkness still exists.

None could fathom unless directly witnessing; what destruction the remaining souls were witnessing within the dying fleet and their homeworld: until one could began to hear the despairing howls and screams of beings, entities, spawn sounding through the open radio frequencies; only to be ignored and soon to be forgotten. Layers of hull plating blown away in the onslaught of secondary explosions occurring over and over again, relentlessly as fire twisted and twirled to the symphony of failure and death... it was these phoenixes that danced many times until the void embraced them...forever.

Triumphant auxiliary exhibitions soared above K'ctha-Zoth's capital casting their multi-shaped shadows over the black reflective structures of the skyscrapers. The sounds of celebrations rising from the streets, newscasts visually broadcasted throughout signalling the victorious defeat of the Shen Empire. The darkening firmament, rich with dusk, a kiss of vermilion, a caress of smouldering garnet to the white flesh of the east. Metallic lustrous palaces and the city gradually became drenched in the flow of jewel-rubies and the twilight shrouds of drowning ebony. Fire and night, skies of steel and blood. Pristine stars without number declared themselves in the heavens and the shadows of the infinite fell closer.

Final rays of sun falling on golden darkening boulevards... pearl, black or irised, all things gleamed like burnished orient mirrors (seemingly with sentient life; such was the lavishness of the restructured Empire, resurrected from the ashes of Empora-Noctae- a most impressive rebirth. How within the rival between light and darkness, shadowy and tenebrous fingers taper along the severe architectural lines of the cyclopean buildings, demonstrating the innovative unrivalled architecture of a style unknown to any world. Before Xytrinah had known, this opulent city grew within her heart like a smothered flame that feeds in secret such desires of permanence. And thus it grew in the hearts of its denizens and sworn military legions.

A stiletto-clad foot was tapped noiselessly on the fuchsia carpeted floor of the Aurora T-Class Emperia XIII-S in accompany with Ngaha¡kzhan military 'marked' escort vehicles. Cylindrical| Phasmatodean in design, prestigious and sleek, its more distinguished feature being the impenetrable tinted bio-alloy windows from where Xytrinah looked out. Nigrescent eyes reflected back showing how far away from the reality of the here and now, and instead someplace else. Now the lights thinned out, with ever-widening intervals between. Streets growing darker with that ancient night which pressed about this world in impenetrable depths, wholly quenching its defiant galaxies with the darkening of Noctae's fleeting senescent sun.

The elegant vehicle smelled new, subtle, stiff smells of burnished metal and dry naturally polished textiles, a flashing sequence of luminosity panels was only one of the numerous features that brought this high-status craft to uniqueness, the only one of its kind. Music melodiously filtered through the speakers, floating, ethereal vocals accompanied by dynamic ambiance, climatic- playful with a hint of malevolence. Chords of sensuality that darken by subtle degrees into the cruel and macabre; stirring emotions most would never suspect within themselves. Sexual violence, the eroticism of necromancy, voidic sorcery and the demoniac lubricity of insanity.

"Yorlourl ua iyaae syeea, Iywarlaa e ouai eiwaih.
Kr'kghu netra k'rmee, Laaaluin uu.
Syeea... yelya jae yi!"

"I have consumed you, your flesh is mine.
I pick the costume that I wear,
something beyond the veil or the frozen flame fair.
I am the flesh that walks the street... and you feed my desires."

Murmuring spectral sensual promises behind undercurrent of murderous strings, lies and delights, raptures beyond those of even forbidden books of erudite eroticism had ever hinted. Experiences, sensations conveyed so consummately, sharing the victim's torment, the mortal dreaminess of veins as blood ebbed gradually and insidiously. Smooth, flawless... the chauffeur driven vehicle swiftly left the hustle of the capital city, heading coast wise along the bejewelled ports and esplanades. Admiration stirred even the most well travelled hearts yet to her the outside world didn't even exist. Beams of the crystalline solars used to beautify the roads nothing but a blur as the velocity of the craft increased. Leaving city limits and climbing the coast towards the Imperial Palace where the Metropolis lights emulated on the surface of K'ctha-Zoth's shadowed sea. Ocean garnished with brilliance after the setting of the sun, now just a coal-red decadent star in the crux of selenelion refraction.

Strange verdant luminosities glimmered in the distance; eerily illumined beneath the under-surface of its underwater cities and labyrinthine spiral complexes. Contemplating the surge of federation reports and official documents, media comments demanded... not wishing to spoil somewhat of a 'pleasant' evening. Reaching forwards to the built-in Bio-Crypted datapad, selecting through the various components of the ED biogenetic circulatory system and cortical helix as it connected to the Mindhive Hyperband Relay Network. Gaining system access to the Imperial Consulate and War Council database, uploading required files and documents previously stored after victory was declared over the Vorta Helix of Shen Xiu III before contemplating in dealing with the media.

K'ctha-Zoth Imperial Prime World| Ehllara Investigate

Connecting visually to the leading reporter, Vorcia V'Urith from the chief media conglomerate , 'Ehllara Investigate', one that was linked to every corporation and organization concerning advanced technology and politics within the 'old' Empora System. Chuckling at the past memories of debauched prying into sexual relations and other sordid ambivalent questions from other multi-galactic media establishments, with hopes to cause ruffles and distract from the known position of military professionalism, intelligibility, charm and direct philosophy.

"Be a darling, be sure this report is broadcasted in the directions it serves best." Shifting slightly in elegant seated position just as the interview commenced. "Be sure to place imperial encryptions to the broadcast, tracing transmission connection." It wasn't uttered as a suggestion but an outright order, with deadly consequences if not obeyed.

"Of course." Vorcia smiled, her professionalism evident in the manner of conservative dress and the way her black hair was pinned back to show her pallid and gaunt features, "Good evening, Grand Admiral Xytrinah Equinius. First, I have to say thank you for allowing me this exclusive interview, I know you must be a rather busy woman and looking forward to the celebrations of your recent conquest and success. Shall we get directly to business?" Normally the feisty reporter, one that gave the Shen Emperor a rather cold prejudice in any reference made during the disabling of the Vespae forces and the first move to reclaim the Shen homeworld. A planet taken over by the Shen, who in turn wiped out several of the first Empora races... a grievance that now witnessed its full retribution.

"Empress", Xytrinah wasted no time or diplomacy in correcting the error that immediately did not go ignored. "Gratitude, Vorcia and it is my pleasure to afford you moments of my time. As per official agreement between the Ehllara Investigate Corporation and the former Noctaen Senate, interviews at this point are restricted and will not be conducted outside of jurisdiction, for security measures. However, we understand the citizens of the Empire have a right to be informed of recent events and the Empires future plans, therefore I am honoured to oblige in related matters." Smiling with strict amiability, glossy cerise apertures the lustre of wild blossoms blended with potent fiery spice of some unknown aphrodisiac.

"The honour is mine, Empress. So, may I have an official statement in regards to this relatively short and decisive war? What are your views in the sustainability of our system and the safety of its denizens? I am sure I speak for most when I say, what happens next?" Words of 'Empress' held on the lips of the female reporter as she knew their system was originally patriarchal. It was an emphasis in the abrasive tone that informed her audience that there was more behind the charisma and success of Xytrinah that had even deeper implications and possible political future complications.

"Confidence, in the likelihood of a short decisive war is one of the most ancient and dangerous of terrestrial illusions. However this war has been anything but short. What is certain, our resolve has been tested, and we have emerged triumphant because we now move fortified and united as one: the Imperial Nation of the first U'rsthollosha Empire and we will overcome any that challenge it otherwise. Our way and course is clear as to what shall happen next. We have broken from the decayed and old traditions of Empora, they shall never be reformed." Another smirk crossed her features, one of great ambition. "Moving forwards. I will command the Empire to glories beyond what any could ever envision." Xytrinah laughed quietly to herself... the resonance reminiscent of silver strewn over sands of an exotic alien shore. Sirenous in captivating lilt.

Vorcia admiring the woman in private thoughts, contemplating the next question since time was of the essence and what afforded she had, it was desired to have it seem wasted. This was a rare opportunity to speak in person with the now proclaimed Empress, one whose face had remained obscured from the public, until now. "And what of your resolve despite the constant recalcitrance of the Separatists and hostile receptiveness the Empire has faced? Can you really safeguard this entire system effectively? How do you propose to ensure the resolve of the Imperials and discourage further invasions of the alliances of the Imperial people, especially those who are loyal to the Shen Empire?" Idly tucking back behind her right ear a strand of hair that had somehow escaped from the bun, titling to observe the Empress did not travel with a companion, another strictly uncommon practice to women of status. A surveillance that revealed her long pale neck that bore a golden chain necklace and round collared tailor-fitted suit.

Amused and completely unbothered by the antics of a talented antagonist with a job to expose the tainted words of serpents and imposters not to mention the deliberate movement towards assumption or speculation in regards to absent consort or escort. Retorting in a velvet voice unmoved, untouched by the beguiled prodding of tone and carefully chosen phrases. "I guarantee that my resolve is always eternally adamant, war between the inhabitants within this system doubtfully is entirely over and we would be fools to think otherwise. For now the Independents have been subjugated, the Shen Imperial sons have perished or fled the spirals, the non-conformist revolt has been thwarted and corruption within the senate and cleansing of archaic laws We no longer are sullied by the filth of capital avarice. Today, we have seized all that is within our grasp and claimed the rewards of our endurance, losses and our efforts. Tomorrow is another day... we shall see."

Sitting back to enjoy the material comforts awarded of cold leather upon the grace of flesh, stygian eyes never leaving the directness of the reporter's gaze. Noticing the road had changed course during the interview and arrival at its destination nearly at an enjoyable completion. "To ensure the defense and progressing constancy of the U'rsthollosha Spiral, every capital nation has already committed to the merging of all federations into one, the first United U'rsthollosha Federation-- for a trusting, secure and fortified society, one I assure you will stand the tests of time and adversary. We will preserve our morals by force of arms, grant no leniency or amnesty to our enemies and will stand unified against assault from the internal or externals of our regime. Let every any adversary take heed, that those who oppose the new Imperial resolve will be crushed, without mercy, without remorse." Lips ascending into a confident grin, sultry spoken words and haughty proclamations whispered hauntingly throughout the vehicles opulent chamber.

Lust-bloomed embouchements barely concealing those immaculate ivories that glimmered like moon-kissed pearl in the synthetic light of the volumetric screen. "Well..." Xytrinah intervened before the interviewer had the time to interject with yet another enquiry, voice salacious and eloquent. "I am sure the Magnate, Pretav Vhurtau, shall further see you attended at the press symposium tomorrow. Relevant questions will be answered." Locking onto Vorcia's eyes, where reflectionless they bloomed like a black lotus rising from nefarious depths. Yet, her smile remained alluring- a charismatic manner performed for a more practical reason. It was to enhance her 'professional' appearance in her role being an intergalactic military figure, a well esteemed sovereign, currently head of the elected Z'ash'cherian, Necri and Noctaen delegation to the Imperial Assembly through recognition.

"Oh. Of course!" Vorcia replied with a not so well disguised voice of disappointment, but her course of dialogue was changed and pleasantries uttered instead, "Again, thank you for your time and I do hope this evenings celebrations mark the occasion for the glory it holds within all our hearts. We are covering the festivities from the central business district later in the evening, 'Imperial Orchid Festival' the citizens of the now U'rsthollosha system have elected. We are broadcasting galactic wide, not sure if other media corporations outside of our system will replay, though we are expecting they will." She shifted from her regal position indicating preparation to leave comfort of her transport, "The pleasure was all mine, Vorcia. May you also find a moment to enjoy the revelry. I hear it is going to be quite the exhibition." The emphasis of 'exhibition' rolled like silk off her tongue.

Ending the transmission punctually just as the exclusive vehicle, slowly passed through the last security grid manned by broad armed sentry's. Inquisitive Imperial Guards looking in through heavily tinted spectrums, only to be disappointed unable to see inside. Dull, humming engine finally winding down as the car came to a complete stop outside the Imperial Palace. Several arthropod Necri guards with multiple limbs fully covered in heavy plated exoskeleton armors; razor-mandibles chittering among themselves came to complete silence and moved into escort position. Compound pupilless black eyes pinned harshly at the appearance of the craft. The last final 'hiss' resounding from the charged electromagnetic lifters, gravimetric disruptor's deployed enabling a steady descended levitation. Standing to full height, bestowing a single nod and gracefully leaving the reporter to conduct further enquiries under guard.

Sometimes we long for the nostalgia of things unknown, of lands forgotten or those visited during the fever of dreams...
at times, longing for the gleam of yellow suns upon terraces of translucent marble, mocking the windless waters of lakes unfathomably calm.

Or seeking lost, legendary palaces of serpentine, silver and ebony from the most desirous of nightmares....
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Sometimes we long for the nostalgia of things unknown,
of lands forgotten or those visited during the fever of dreams.
At times, longing for the gleam of yellow suns upon terraces of translucent marble,
mocking the windless waters of lakes unfathomably calm.

Or seeking lost, legendary palaces of serpentine,
silver and ebony from the most desirous of nightmares....

Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The K'ctha-Zothan Imperial 1st Anniversary: Hēi'Lánhuā Festival
Cyotha-Ysha Palace.

Strange Reflections: The Phantoms of Reverie

The Imperial Palace's frame delved deep beneath the scintillating parapets with adjacent structures, its roots thrust deep into the dense substratum of the planet. Constructed of polished crystalline-black metals and mirrored crystals, sparkling in the blazing illuminations from phosphorescent panels, electro-luminescence strips and moonlight. Various obelisks erupting from the face of the citadel eternally fixed to claim the stars. Filled with numerous antechambers serving an assortment of functions, including data towers storing classified and restricted files from across known and unknown galaxies outside of the Uachauguthlo System, including exploration surveys and space charts which could be exceptionally precarious if fallen into questionable hands.

Poignant, gliding across the diminished leathers as the computerized drone of the hovercrafts door lifted to allow Xytrinah's exit. Placid zephyrs playing with the strands of hair, tossing them back in ethereal kisses where then cold wind-talons raked as if to flay the beauty away from sinew only to be starved of desires and such primordial pleasures. Manicured brow arching while glancing over the armored guards, their veritable 'savage images' of vicious sub-species glimmering in the approach of ebonized mirrors casting back the horror of their forms, but to her there was much to admire in the brutal savagery of the race; deemed beautiful in its own rights.

Entering prominently with several armed escorts into the grand corridor heavily illuminated large transparisteel panes allowing natural light to permeate, walls of black stone and red-tinted cut-glass windows gave a multi-dimensional appeal. Lining the Corridor was a symmetrical row of ophidian rare and exotic Ch'kianchiai trees. Black foliage, fine and intricate, diaphanous as the spiders web with petals the shades of livid rose, and bluish-purple like hues of putrefying flesh. Occasionally shifting colours, provoked by movement and vibrations within the atmosphere. Although highly decorative and fascinating, unknowingly they also served a venefic and sinister purpose: sentient intelligence able to decipher even the most skilled and hidden of thoughts. Resonance-animated flora, triggering rapid changes in depth of colour... intricate guardians in their own uniqueness.

Behind the wake of graceful saunter, sweeping... shifting trails of exquisite lace, woven silk of offering epicurean delight parted to reveal contours of achromatic flesh, exposed limbs that breathed the quintessence of her being. Fitted gown featuring a high mandarin keyhole back and a fishtail train finished delicately with sprinkled interwoven black pearls and diamonds. Long ravenesque black hair cascading like silk over delicate frame, pulled back to expose the beauty of fine chiselled features. Oracular mirrors benighted in the luminosity that was passed, obsidian shades, accentuated by highlight of black and golden kohl, providing the exotic allure and sultry splendor of all that was woman.

Branching off from the main hall and led to the western face of the central building towards the convocation hall and the palatial balustrade. With an unobstructed 360 degree view one could appreciate the beauty of the cityscape, the lavish gardens of Noctaean flowers and twisted black trees with countless pools and fountains bright, the indigo ocean with spectral cities beneath the calm waters. Celebrations were well underway, for the kindling of such amours there were wines, intoxicating cordials offered with infused aphrodisiacs already on presentation to the inquisitive palate. Andante pleasant musical scores entwined with electronic-transmuted, helix-like melodical tempo and loving embraces of inspirational verse.

Attending the return of obeisance with a polite nod and charmed simper, personal guards removing themself from the juxtaposed position at her side as she moved to partake in polite conversation with those of influence within the system. Avoiding politics in addition to what she thought was inappropriate discussion of business as well as military strategy with the gesture of a light-hearted laugh before wandering through the wealth of crowd. Knowing that imminent plans debated during events that entertained a score of unverified powers yet to state which side they intended to position themselves or who they intended to loyally serve. Revealing eyes, like polished black gem stones of the grave at midnight sans moonlight and stars, passed from official to their accompanying flowers, jeweled and dressed to demonstrate wealth and opulence.

Glancing over statuettes in half-veiled alcoves; gilded painted wall panels depicting bestial loves, and ancient mythologies. Hired singers of all sexes, sang diversely erotic songs while dancers whose contortions were calculated to restore the outworn senses when all else had failed. A lurid affair, slender brow arching at the mass of swarming bodies, climbing over the other in Ophiolatreian worship as a dark smirk manifested over lustrous lips of cherry and opium. Such things were difficult not to appreciate for most, the escalating energies rising like smoke to the ceilings, musky overtones of sweat and seduction- enough to fuel the veiled fervor of even the potent of iron of will.

With a current half-emptied cup in hand, void of wine or the passion for it to dance over painted lips. Electing to observe from the balcony and watch the sporadic flashes of fireworks over the main boulevards of the city and exploding over the ocean. Bypassing the social crowd gathering to fan the ego in shouts and boasts of success. Averting gaze involuntarily from some couples too shameless or too drunk to seek the shadows of privacy for their dalliance. Satiety had claimed its mistress, feeling oddly withdrawn from the morass of wine and flesh into which offered nothing to soothe the tempest. Feeling as if the only one standing on this alien shore beyond the waters of an ever- increasing separation.

Everywhere throughout the city, there were wildly flaming lights, and the ribaldry of boisterous voices, and the strident moan of pulsing of music. There was feasting in the great squares, and the doorways of immemorial houses poured out a flood of illumination, tumults of laughter and melody, offering their hospitality to all who might choose to enter. In the huge temples of former aeons; delirious rites were done to the 'Old Ones' who stared forth with unchanging eyes the heavens; priests and worshipers drugging themselves with terrible opiates, seeking the stupefying ecstasy of material abandonment to a frenzy both carnal and pious.

"What troubles you?" It was Senator Kzora, flushed with the glow of drunken jubilation. Ashen-haired, rather corpulent in build and towered above her placing an affectionate hand on Xytrinah's shoulder, hoisting aloft with the other that licentious and fescenninely graven quart crystalline glass of sweet decadent wine, eschewing the drugged and violent liquors often preferred by the voluptuaries of Empora-Noctae. "Is it troubles of the heart or discontented covetousness? We have cures here for both. You have only to name your ailment and seek the opiate to cure." Kzora's question and answer to his own inspired a laugh, then shaking her head at the humour of his words. Even as he gave a puzzled expression. Each twist and turn of translation was enough in his implications that was worthy of the laughter. Slender digits plucking the full glass from Kzora's hand; quickly lifting it to her own lips in order to silence herself before countering and insulting the man further with yet another response of amusement. Imbibing the drink completely, despite the protests of him attempting to reward himself the cup back and the "tut" and "tch" of vocal clicks and wordless stuttering.

"There is no medicine of this world, for what afflicts me. As for love..." She laughed again, "I have ceased to care of its covetousness or the fires fanned by the passions of its unrequited or requited wants. I can taste only the dregs in every cup and the tedium of it lurks on every after-thought." Waving a flippant gesture to chase the bitterness of her words before continuing. "Besides, I have been reading some of your verses as of late. You really should keep with politics and cease the verses of poetry... your subject material, although quaint.... maggots, phantoms and disembodied love is enough to grant healthy men colic, women to throw themselves off cliffs! Even myself, I require at least an ocean of zhdozqiach after reading each one to cure the melancholy of it."

Kzora shook his head commiserately. "Though I have attained to possibly more than twice your years, Empress." Silver eyes looking her up and down unsure of his comment concerning age knowing looks can be incredibly deceiving and unsure of even what title to use in addressing less formally without making assumption. "Despite my works. I am satisfied with what I see and hear and touch. Good juicy meat, love, women, death, wine, the songs of full-throated singers, are enough for me. Life and death should be celebrated and enjoyed even in times of war; it gives hope and builds spirits for we can never know what tomorrow brings, even if the Necri way is rather, morose." Resting his stout frame against the pillars of the arched entrance, regardless of hair colour and haggard features, not appearing elderly, though his very aura indicated an advanced age which belied his deportment.

"In the drums of slumber", she mused and smiled a little at the mention of 'Death'. "My appearance betrays and misleads. But we shall overlook such sleights. Valued friend, I have taken souls as death itself, clasped devotion far more than just a simple love, known delights too keen for the heart and its fires too hot for the flesh to sustain. Do such emotions have any source, outside the lustful heart itself so eager but ever thirsting? I would give much for its return; but in the meantime I will reach beyond the stars into doomed worlds undreamt of by mortal minds and claim my victories..." Dark wisps of nostalgia carried her further into the labyrinths of memory, back where there were only the joys of contentment, and the appreciations for things like celebrations and festivals didn't look as if to find a home here.

Changing to her formal but sanguine vocal style, leaning over towards a passing waiter, Graciously plucking a glass of zhdozqiach from the golden tray with a firm unyielding smile that made most uneasy in its misgivings, "Gratitude for such kind hospitalities...", emphasis placed on 'kind' with a coquettish dark ambiance. Fluid hues of purplish-red, rich wine prepared by arcane fermentations and possessing a complex aroma and palatable infusion of fruits spices, opiate blossoms and sweet decadence only known to this spiral.

"Let what is past flow away downstream. Enjoy your evening, Kzora, Fulfill all your heart's desire. If indeed it is our last to partake of wine and such things you speak, and least we can say we lived well." Raising the crystalline glass towards him in the offering of a toast. Ascending the rim of glass to her sanguine lips, wine finally finding the parched palate where some words still sat on the tip of tongue. Taste, sweetened acidity, tannins bringing forth the other sensations of the liquid.

Right hand extended to offer a the elderly gentleman the back of her hand while wishing him a pleasurable evening. Kzora bestowed a single kiss to the delicate perfumed skin. An offering of pleasantries along with blessings was a customary habit of the Necri regardless of their fearsome reputation as adept sorcerers and necromancers. She found them to be quite agreeable and enjoyed their company when the moment presented itself. With the last exchange of a smile, turning to locate one of the waiters, moving swiftly to obtain a bottle of wine, then making her way back out across the landing, shaking her head towards the guarded escorts signalling to them that their presence was not required.

Waning like amber'd candlelight, in the long night of time,
where legends are the last glimpse of fidelity... in a world, rife and ripe with Darkness.

NPC's and Names of Relevance: Senator Kzora- Imperial Senate]


New Member
New Player
The Multiverse
Everywhere yet nowhere.

Silenced whispers pierced the Aeheric energy ebbing and flowing from one luminous orb to the next. A swirl of blues laced with silver dancing in arcs across the energy laden globules, spewing forth across a landscape immeasurable in a realm where time only existed in the form of progression. It was this twisted unknown realm the Vigils called home. Forever watching, they had stood the test of eons, watched as universes blossomed into existence only to wither and fall into disarray, waited whilst entropy had took its course to wilt and balance the energy which remained. It was here where the information carriers of all things were plucked like strings on a loom, where the warping of all which was natural was felt in vibration form.

No words were mentioned, only the telepathic link through as each subconscious passed information to the next, omnipotent as they worked towards their common goal, the disruption which had contorted the very fabric of space time. War was afoot, with wave upon wave of devastation swept forth the disadvantaged fleet, as one illustrious Empress staked her claim against an entire system of worlds. It wasn’t until the ultimate had been released, had they been able to pinpoint her location. The impulse of ultraviolet sweeping rippling across space time acting as sonar, from everywhere they traced back with precision.

Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The K'ctha-Zothan Imperial 1st Anniversary: Hēi'Lánhuā Festival
Cyotha-Ysha Palace.

Explosions tore the inky black sky asunder, a myriad of vibrant colours expanding whilst the crowd mouths gaped, letting out the sound of awe at the ceremonial firepower released on such a day. Imperial day, the anniversary of the newly formed empire now free from the alleged Shen tyranny, the skies lit with the celebrations of the first year of independence. On such a day, fitting, as the demonic rituals which accompany any often highly publicised festivity could not off predicted that the he would find foot upon the reams of artificial victory which spread forth.

The city highly industrialised, the smells of sulphur rife within an air whose atmosphere proved too toxic for even water to remain pure, a world which with the ascent of onyx skyscrapers and hovering cars, where technology had fought and beat back the primal mother until she was forced to retreat into the black subterranean. Still even in such domain was she not safe, the huge towers supports buried deep with her, a tainted prison for her to weep at has become of her world.

Yet even in a world of concrete and crystal havens still remained, nurtured even with trees dwarfed by design, where the lavish of luxury extended from the four walls and into the surrounding gardens of the Imperial Palace. The impromptu display of primitive gun powder could be barely seen from his position underneath one of the many sprouts of wood and leaf outer reaches of the freshly cut lawn, where the turrets were sprinklers and their enemy heat. It was here, from marvelling at the colours reaching above the obelisks of study and work, to where crystalline blue hues flittered from inky black, to artificially bathed balcony.

It was doubtful that anyone had spotted his arrival, no guards had come rushing to the almost ritualistic scene and no pulses of panic or authoritarian command could be heard aimed at the somewhat intruder. His entrance a marvel as the shadows twisted away from their natural prisons to defy the light which held them back, the inky black substance meandering through the labyrinth of blades of grass until, just like a puddle would form in the rain, the tar like liquid obsidian would ripple and glimmer. It was from this that he would rise, a reverse waterfall rebelling against its physical constraints to rise to just over five and a half foot before it tumbled back into the puddle beneath newly formed claws.

ZuFeng had arrived and with him came the gentle calmness of what was around, the temperature from matter which shook so furiously now subdued as he sought control, the winds carrying a bitter frost with air markedly bitter from what it was before. To most he was hidden, slinking within the shadows of birth allowing the onyx cloak which slivered around his skeletal frame to camouflage against any intruding eyes. Darkness personified he stood, elongated digits interloping with their opposite other across his chest, buried deep within the elongated sleeves, the hood pulled up and over his head allowing no discernable features to release. Save for the deathly pale stare of crystal like hues, watching, waiting as she continued her conversation on the balcony.

Within the oversized sleeves nimble digits began to twitch, the celestials eyes closing as he played at the strings of sound. Picking at the waves he twisted to his own means, enhancing to flow into his mind; interpreting as if a fly on the wall listening to a conversation which once learned, was irrelevant. Her partner a politician with a fancy for poetry, the words often as macabre and toxic as her own personality if her assessment was to be duly believed. The words tore a smile through wicked dry lips, almost. Through tedious obvious necessities the secreted Imperial son stood vigil, silent, watching, listening until the moment she had dismissed one and to greet another.

The politician’s life at the gala of debauchery, a busy one, greeting this and that with falseness only a few could hope to garner away from her true nature. He knew her, knew her better than most of those she held close to her, Xytrinah was talented, but had fooled all by her outward appearance, except him. A short conversation was all that was needed, a conversation where little was revealed and yet all was told, where generalities spoke louder than any precise statement. The information garnered from the diplomat, or so his brother is called amongst kin, a talented wordsmith with which one could twist the truth from any falsehood. He no longer held the subconscious council that his father once offered.

His name has ringed through the ages in many different dialects in almost all forms of intelligent life. ZuFeng's influence spread further than the constraints of any universe. Flowing seamlessly from one to the next this creature of myth and legend who; whilst sating a blood lust, had created and lived within the grandeurs of godlike status. Now, much later on with millennia between what was and what is now, had come to see the women who had taken on such a moniker. This woman, despite meeting his brother, was known for having a name famed enough to travel through multiple airwaves. It held firm surprisingly, on a measurable tip of the tongue of life within this universe. Today was the day that she would meet the one who held the moniker for much longer. Today he would meet his successor.

Through the picking and plucking of the same sound as before, the nonchalant wave at her guards to leave her buried within the bottle of fermented liquor she had just taken, the thunderous sounds of the sky lighting had changed form. The echoes of power broken, split into the silvery serpentine tongue of a thousand souls. Each one with their words repeated a thousand times by the next into almost incoherence, yet once they delved into her, and only hers, ears; they would speak with a chilling clarity.

“You do not belong here.” The voices called through the revelry of those around, from everywhere and nowhere they came until just over her shoulder, she would feel their silky tongues. “These people do not understand you.” Every syllable exaggerated, every ‘s’ elongated with sinister wraith like undertones. “I understand you.”

His eyes opened to stare forth at the balcony once more, the sounds of fire lighting up the sky continued with the din of jubilation and drunken excitement returning with a strengthened wave, one to knock those of lesser minds of their feet. Of course she would not, it would not surprise if she stood firm, yet the source was held within angelic blue hues focused on her, the shadows shimmering around his onyx visage. She would listen, at least long enough for the transportation sequence.
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"To consume all burden of old affliction whose blooms are grown of archaic sin and death the sap that founts and flows..."

Necromant zephyr fondly stroked along the contours of Xytrinah's face hidden beneath the ebony hyalescence of fretful flowing streams. The free hand, not bearing the bottle of Zhdozqiach, raking back the silky tresses... the counsel of familiarity was just as scented as the violaceous orchid-like flowers in the undercurrents of the bitter tempests below. Apertures miming some ambiguous appellation, extending neural connections to the Mind-hive Hyperband Relay Network, entwining communications not only with Bio-Encryptions but also Cellular Scanners affixed to signatures to confirm suspicions of possible 'hostile arrivals'.

It was an automatic response to send out details armed escorts during Imperial celebrations (naturally), authority of superiority over all other system fleets obvious in the manner of her directives. Instructing the system control command of the Cykretha Military Base situated on the obsidian surface of Xothasteg: the pale resplendent luminary closest to the Necropolis World, Zaoth-Vhlorrhoa, then instructing that all communications be redirected to her, but instruction in regards to quarantine procedures and protocols to be immediately initialized by military force if need be.

The armed soldier had no reason to address her directly, and complied with Xytrinah's orders like the devoted loyalists in which they were. No doubt they too would have preferred being amongst the extravagant celebrations that stretched system wide. From luxurious parties to the more exclusive revelry of the most influential esthetic opulent Pleasure Worlds captivated in their own ceremonial oeuvres; of eternal devouring, sex, blood, death, reverence, harvest and sendal. It was true, the system was rejoicing- illustrated pictorials lit the skies with their unusual displays of colours and chosen emblems of conquest and victory from planet to megastructure alike.

Xytrinah exhaled a slow breath that resembled more tedium than approbation, beholding the glittering fireworks reflecting in her own obsidian-like eyes; making them appear even more impenetrable against the starry night sky. Flowers of fire exploded into the swirling darkness, each petal flashed sparks of mercurial and amaranthine, bursting to devour the entirety of the sable firmament, fading and rising again, co-joined with Imperial emblems in celebration to those who aided in the subjugation of the Shen Empire. It all painted a rather imperative and significant message. The sporadic flashes claiming even the stars above, that dimmed and waned to their honours.

Evening heavens usually divided to lashings of black rivulet and ecstatic tongue; when lachrymose songs of darkness procured, schismatic and fervent to the tremors of expectancy that murmur longingly to the mantles of primal desire. These things here were not so. When self-professed quiet-types harp over aversions, and the glories appeared even less 'glorious', nothing but spilled foetid appraisals over dark shores. Silences of golden rule grew tarnished with evident contradiction, and the caustic odour of endless inconsistencies blessed the wrist of the harbinger; like perfumed death.

Greeting it all with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders, black regalement shifting around the sinuous curves of Xytrinah's form resembling 'liquid darkness' Reverent fantasmagoric pomps, deferring murmurs of violence, seduction- perverse adoration uncontested, for here she within her elements. A sadness of its own. Rosewater cheeks took on a phantom flush, flambeaus sparkled with the gleam similar to mortuary tapers as more artistic explosions took over the skies, and fell like the very dark stars themselves into silence consuming the veils of night. There, the electric-ember hung suspended in animation, motionless... even mute of sound for a few fleeting moments that seemed like eons.

Even the music changed, as did all sound into one conglomerated orchestra echoing from the sullen throats of stone- amid strong, a sombre music. Bizarre and sonorous, like the singing of black stars, or a litany of gods that invoke oblivion; a symphony that trilled the city to its heart of adamant, and trembled till the last echoes of its jubilation. Terrible as the trumpets of doom, one with the vespers of perpetuity. "You do not belong here." Manicured brow arching while ebonized eyes narrowed at the onxy-laden heavens, when the petals of stars fell, taking on a black splendour of porphyritic appearance. Lidless implacable eyes of staring chaos staring down upon her, reminiscent to the petrified despair of those who have gazed too long on the infinite.

"Then where is it I belong?" Canting features to the side exposing slender landscapes of nape casting shadows across monochromatic flesh. Rejoinder came with a hushed lilt not of voice but one that transcended through the darkened webs of the vespers: tapestries interlacing the constructs of her own complex compositions and energies. "These people do not understand you, but I do."

A dark smile bore life over sanguine lips, spreading leisurely from lustrous crescents to the sharp contours of cheekbone. Laces of metamorphic shadows fell and shifted, over materializing embodiment of exquisite features that even Aphrodites description paled by far in comparison. Progressively haughtiness of chin ascended. Grandiose and majestic, as if the traits of the Black Phoenix: The Black Orchid could present itself as anything but sublime and august, but also remaining reverential, afterall Xytrinah saw no means of impertinence. "These peoples are only ashes waiting for the carnivorous winds to ravage them and scatter their illusions of life across the uncaring cosmos. None have ever understood me; including yourself."

Clandestine dialogue shared betwixt the two, her and her madness, or some arcane darkness for the first time flexing its supremacy almost too easy over a place that even the Outer Gods could influence or sway. Be it madness, elucidation or fate, Xytrinah did not tremble in the weight of this strange yet oddly familiar manifestation, "I am glad 'they' do not understand me, for to understand me, they would have to flay their worthless flesh from their bones, drain the last drop of their blood, blind their sight with their gnarled talons and for eternity consume themselves until the winds of oblivion die with the lst of the black suns. Only then, will they truly be worthy enough to see me." Like portending daggers Xytrinah's eyes narrowed, perforating the profuse molasses depths. There was no direct definition to what 'people' were being referred to, however tense were those diabolical fingers rapping against the rigid structure of the railing, not unnerved but not altogether complacent when tones drew forth ominous whispers which tickled over scented skin.

Close. Too close for her own private comfort, virtually intimate in strategy. "I understand you." If it had been a figure standing behind Xytrinah perhaps she would have leaned back and basked in the ambiance of physical presence and the sinister connotations which were highly suggested not just in meeting but also in gesture; "If you understood me, you would have no need to secrete your presence, and instead grant me at least the honour to address the only one whom has managed to arrive here, flawlessly undetected of guard and even evaded my eyes, or other means of detection. Perhaps I 'allowed' you to haunt me." Accentuation placed upon the 'allow' placing control back in her hands along with the declaration he was there only there because she permitted it.

"To understand me above all others, is to possess the knowledge in which they never have exhumed due to their own neglects. So tell me, what is it you profess to understand, then bask in the raptures, that is me, we, them or us.?" If seductive plumes of honeyed notes could not draw out this dark mysterious traveller, then perhaps the death-kneel of an entire worlds citizens would?

Right hand digits plucked up the bottle in a motion that escaped the normal capture of eyesight, pouring a glass half to the brim and leaving it there upon the stage. A few steps elegantly taken back in the pendulum motion of hips and the reverberation of stiletto heel to crystalline surface. "If you understand me, perhaps I can persuade you to share a toast? Unless it is more symbiotic musing you wish to seek and waste the remaining of my evening with riddles and droll?" Company had been nothing but mundane, from the typical military presence and the civil servant. Then to those who had uttered similar verse in the guise of lover- now exposed to the perfidious ingrates of their real masks and inferiority. So of course when an unknown reveals an eclipsed aspect of its power over a place that is not its own, of course it would stir inquisitiveness.

"But of course. If you truly wanted my coordinates- perhaps you should try asking....." Coldness, condensed spectral plumes billowed twixt lips the stained passions of blood and wine, more now the colour of hyacinth; or the death-stained apertures of drowned worlds.

|Behind every thing a shadow lies; and beauty hath ever its perilous cost:
Within the moonlight-flooded skies, where diadem sits upon the brow like a crown,
and the tempest howls its battle-cries in doom-preparing.
Latterly requited from missions of destruction,
pause amid the cognizance illuminations to sift from their somber
and tremendous vans the pale ashes of annihilated stars.|


New Member
New Player
Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The K'ctha-Zothan Imperial 1st Anniversary: Hēi'Lánhuā Festival
Cyotha-Ysha Palace.

Betwixt the pin prick stars and the multiple lunar globes, a child of celestial design stood firm to her charms.

Cerulean swirls observed porcelain skin reflecting the spectacular war of colour rending the skies above. Her visage, one of malevolent beauty, enraptured not by what was above, but what was lurking within the shadows. Death, or the harbinger there off, with contrasting beauty beyond the monstrous skeletal visage of his avatar, to those who could pierce through the veil of obscurity. His mind, the subconscious ever expanding, linked to a realm far beyond the one reptilian feet stood upon, beyond the confines of what was physical, of reality itself. The Multiverse.

Her words, plucked and woven from the waves reverberating from where none could hear as they travelled and petered out into non-existence into preternatural silence. A synthetic ploy to twist her own reality away from the hedonistic debauchery of the powerful and wealthy. No, a new power had stepped foot on their world, one which reeked of predatory nature, enough to cause any unable to stand to its will to scarper back to the undergrowth, never escaping the fear that one of his kind bought. A deep breath, unneeded and yet pleasurable, tasting the chill which hung in the air. Noticeable now as even the strongest mortal link sought refuge from its unrelenting onslaught, leather jackets zipped tight whilst arms bought to huddle against the chest, the steam pouring forth from intermingling bodies to rise in plumes to fight back the unwelcome cold. She of course was not mortal, such insignificant thoughts did peak his interest, yet the power to nonchalantly render planets to dust without conscience. It attracted him.

Wicked lips cracked an arid smirk, emotion hard to pull from one yet here it was; amusement at the thought of destruction and chaos where entropic values hastened to bring order from chaos. It was this, or the creatures which sought to quicken the ultimate of endings, where he found solace. His area of study was life in all its variants, where the natural order of right and wrong is blurred by the ultimate of scientific demise. A quest which had bought him to this world, to her words which broke through physical to caress the mind.

No response, to each of his simple statements a flurry of articulate sensuality reached out to caress the very fibre of his being. Words which, with sultry tones, called upon to reveal himself, to bait him out of the shadows which camouflaged the darkness stood, which masked the brittle blades of grass sheltered by the unnatural frost. All the while he stood, with each wave twisted, where sound was bent and broken by elongated digits weaving the metaphorical loom, he watched to study. His nature was to read, to analyse with clandestine accuracy, the subconscious hints which everybody would drop. The subtle shift in gesture, the mannerism displayed when taking a sip from the crystal chalice, the fingers whitening, cracking the porcelain as the tense emotion of being watched by something unknown took form in a few steps backwards.

He appeared beside her, "Xytrinah" the deathly chorus which followed him raised around her once more, their sinister nature caressing her ears with undead tongues, nor would he call her Empress. "Your words do not mask your nature; the shadows have disobeyed, and your savagery has revealed itself to countless. But there will come a time that none will get close to you, for this very reason. Could you exist alone in the bitter cosmos?" Silence once more surrounded her, eerie in its supernatural splendour whilst the world carried on around. "Your displays of weaponry, this façade of power which you hold so dear, your potential dwarves these, even I know that. A simple son from a once great man."

The obsidian figure shrouded in mist causing the air to shimmer around skeletal frame, the robe which clung to him, flowing around in constant fluidity, tumbling down to the shadows which followed him obediently. "A toast in celebration?" The rhetorical whispers rose soon after, flowing from impenetrable shadow without any movement from his lips, instead simply pale blue hues watching from underneath the hood. "Perhaps we should mourn. Mourn that one so beautiful, so rife with power, has settled for a life of bitterness, grudge and destruction.." Honeyed words oozing from his lips. If she had known anything of the man, she would have noticed something else was different about him. "I will not speak in riddles, nor will I hide my intentions from you, such things are frivolous when dealing with beings such as us." Taking a short pause, allowing the truth of the statement to settle within her mind. ZuFeng paused once again though this time not for dramatic effect, merely he was searching through the depths of his eidetic mind recalling the event. It appeared, so clear yet so long ago, a smile forming upon his perfectly plain lips.

Death fallen upon his mind with it's repulsive stench so vivid it would make those of lesser minds turn a nose, a response to his little intrusion. There was no response however, not even the slightest of nervous twitches registered within his bio-mechanical frame at such savagery of the fallen empire. In truth he was used to it, death was an inevitable part of life and even in the midst of destruction there was a beauty in the symmetry it held with it's counterpart. More so it held an amusing insight. Luminescent eyes focused upon each small movement she made, body language being an important part in all communications, She was extremely charming, what man wouldn't be captivated by them, even just a little? If anything she was the most exquisite being he had ever laid eyes upon, however, in this circumstance none of that could matter.

Energies entwined, crashing against his form in waves of pure power, met only by the continuous stream sent forth naturally by himself, an energy signature which could not be felt just on their world, but throughout the spirals. No doubt this could be felt, the meeting of the two sending ripples through the arcane web, a source that possibly could be felt greater than any one single system that connected to the threads. A very distinct signature that only those that knew who the puppeteer was could determine. He used any being that could possible get himself close to those hof interest. His eyes had searched for her for a long time.

"What does any of this have to offer you?" He chuckled slightly, as he said the words it was starting to make sense. "Fate has a funny way off bringing up the past." Pausing once more turning his head back to her, studying her for a second. It was strange, the waves he felt were like nothing he had ever seen before. " I shall leave you to your evening, Xytrinah. Apologies that I broken your moment of peace. But we will continue with this some other time." Pausing again he looked up to her, obsidian optics focused upon her own crystalline eyes , the fact at least quite a large part of his plan had failed miserably and now he decided it best to retreat and rethink stratedgy. "Another time, then."


Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The K'ctha-Zothan Imperial 1st Anniversary: Hēi'Lánhuā Festival
Cyotha-Ysha Palace.

"In all things there exists a fire; a memorable binding of both rose and thorn,
the perfumed aroma of risk and the eternal scratch of heavens, brings the reminder of it."

Impact of force or energy did not compel movement of tempestuous winds that ravaged the cities, throwing people from their feet as if they were mere leaves and ashes scattered by god-like purulent violence. It was only something she could admire, regardless of its intrusive nature over the people still finding footing from the invisible pressure rendering them feeble as paper dolls. Even the tall black-crystalline buildings wavered, ripples of barriers diluting to appear as imperfect illusion- temporal schism. Eliciting fragmentation in the 'reality' of the world making it seem nothing more than a false utopia.

When the unquestionable insidious natures of force and power were revealed, the abject past no longer held any relevance, and the broken foolishness of that past revealed; the most beautiful and defining lesson of all. Memories became more absurd, she could have loathed him for making it unashamedly obvious. Black Lotus eyes with a tinge of mercurial sheen; gaze reminiscent to the onyx pastures of interstellar space eternally ice-bound in this snuffed-starlight affixed intensely on where Xytrinah had detected his initial arrival from darkness to a structure of manifestation. No qualm to mind it was just a messenger, and not the true form of the omnipotent traveller.

Erstwhile nebulas and maelstroms could have torn the entire world apart in the rage and wraith of challenging rivalry. There was no reason to provide restraint or unwelcoming arms taken by guards seen and unseen, candidly demonstrated , that regardless of lack of escort of watchful perceptions. Xytrinah was well within her comforts here; she was home. Evolution and Death, had already come to bare its celebrations of liberation in the face of destruction. In fact the entire system was now commemorating that very idealism of dedicated emancipation, through war and despotism.

Even tXYTRINAHSMALL2.pnghe luminosity of Xytrinah's skin took on a more madreperl star-like quality, pale in reverie to the lilies that bloomed over battle-stained grounds. Wintry breaths and icy infliction's did not bother her greatly, but it did bring concern towards its purpose, in particular the name vocalized 'Xytrinah'. It caused her to swallow hard behind the guise of poised glass to mouth, wine concealing the bittersweet disdain of the recognition intimately. She had no care for it.

The cradle of her thoughts faded away from all decode, clouding themselves amidst the ebony vapours- retreating to the obscurity of her inner darkness but it left a wound over statuesque features. Every indignation, no matter how subsidiary, owes its foundation to nostalgias murderous stab. Wounds left behind by the act are never more devastating than when used as the prelude to tempt; ¦bearing the mark of the hopeless, the unfaithful and the disloyal. The lure that emanates the greatest of temptation, is the uncontested triumph of irreverence. "I evoke a time that name, was only ever spoken intimately, by those closest to me and not in such openness from strangers. It's highly inappropriate, especially from the likes such as yourself... celestial."

A sneer edged over poppy-tinted lips effervescent with the patina of grape, again a melodious timbre escaping twixt tiers of ivory, like honey delivered by a chalice of bee-stings. Not here to honour the past, remember some disillusion of absent days, nor was she about to place an obstacle in the way of progress. Understanding it better than perhaps most that evolution was necessary for survival and with change comes fruition - it is what separated man from beast, and man from parasite. Technically never been alive nor born of any physical world, only a black star that had crumbled beneath two colliding voids, Xytrinah did not recognize any prolific status privately, her purpose was not to preach the romanticism of change or the glories of dark days.

"Change doesn't rotate on the wheels of inevitability, or names sung on battlefields, it comes through continuous struggle. And so, essentially backs must be straightened and work for liberation. Ones past should not define them, but never negligent that one's past cannot ride them unless their back is bent towards it." Unruffled dialogue given in spite of having no immediate reasons for its origins. A laborated opinion, an oracle insight that hid secrets interwoven with elegantly articulated words, each rolling off the tongue seductively. Wine diffused in the light and shadows, resembling shimmering liquid rubies, lapping against tongue: the talk of ages, dust and shades. There poised in statuesque still-life- gaze lost to the darkness.

Grandeur and even perhaps just the slightest hint of arrogance exhibited in the stance of sophistication. Crystal resting on sweet flesh, again tilting to allow the ambrosia to tickle against palate, with the daintiest of sips, enjoying her moment of serenity. The entertainment in the background behind Xytrinah was barely of any interest, nevertheless the company was far from promising. This 'visitor' did certainly seem to know something of her. His words were {daring} {provocative} { beguiling}- and with an archaic salacious tone, "Amusing.." Lower embouchement shifting against the pressed glass, head lolling to the side in angular decline, strands of midnight waist length hair freed from the woven bundle pricked by the tongueless chill.

Arctic draft pluming forth the delicate fragrance of Night-blooming orchid perfume, teasing the air in subtle scents- and diaphanous gown revealing achromatic tones of outer thigh through the billowing division of opulent diaphanous fabric. "My words were never intended to mask my nature, only emphasize my disposition." Nuance disembodied, a nocturnal distinction, suitably low and dulcet, anecdote of the summoned discarnate among mourned vaults. Mannerism more polished and cultivated, remarkably controlled and confident than any who knew of that a former time. "Mere trinkets. It appears whereas my trinkets are purely aesthetic, yours tend to be more of illusion and division. I am no fool, do not take me as one."

Such a welcomed sight when the figure at least arreared then and indulged her in the meagre exchange of wine, sometimes an exchange of libertine that made acquaintance or antagonist; it was intoxicating to muse which side this meeting would fall on. To witnessing observations, it would appear a surreal contrast, Xytrinah's 'broadcasted' unrivalled beauty, keeping correct distance, apart, and he, in his eternal perpetual death-shroud, completely clandestine in tenebrous decay of the Imperial Gardens. "Death. A monarch unrelenting and severe. Flesh is frail, just like the tender petals of a rose, bruised with the passing season, before it wilts and crumbles. Why should I be bothered with them when their coming and their demise has already passed within a blink of an eye? Afterall, make no error, you are here, your signature speaks of Shen however- it's faint. Shall we can share a laugh... how did he die by your hands, or did you wait to jump to jump into his skin from my own efforts? Indolent!"

Taking a deep superfluous breath, releasing the frosty spectral wreathes of sculptured mists, in the theatrics of exhalation causing serpents of frost and ghostly vapors to merge to rise, twisting and weaving into a harangue of corpse-winds. Sadistically Xytrinah smiled, cruel ivories overhanging crimson horizon, "Do you have a name or is that too beneath you?...for it appears that you already know mine." Chin ascending slightly in a haughty approach to the fact he knew of her, and regardless of that a sense of familiarity laying beneath cloak and flesh. Manicured transpicuous brow arching at the mention of a beautiful soul, and settling for something less than worth? Bringing the glass upwards in a gesture of a solitary toast, silent of flowery speeches, yet possessed great rumination. "Very well. Another time, then." Words trailed off, abstract and removed of any sentiments.

...that sinister adversary of familiarity, below mortality rejoices and lupanars cavort, underneath their arbours a cradle that mourning never sojourned.
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Radu the Accursed

New Member
I.. The Beggar

And so it began with what would appear to be a simple humbled Beggar, limping about with a hunched physique, supported by an odd looking walking stick, an organic-esque metal of an aged appearance, black or perhaps onyx with a hint of rust perhaps.

A heavy cloak of night-dark threads swaddled what might have been a frail and lean frame, yet loose black robes hid the form beneath, as he shuffled to and fro beneath the lit up sky, sharking through the crowds unnotice as if looking for someone or something or even nothing at all.

But this particular Beggar seemed to be more or perhaps less than what he might have been. An aura hung around him like a burden weighing heavily upon thin shoulders.. though moving unseen and unmolested through such explicit pools of gathered citizens, one might come to believe there were unnatural or even preternatural abilities in play that many might not even be aware of.

From beneath the shroud of the hood that concealed his face, for the most part, dead- white eyes, suggesting he could be blind, or of poor eyesight at best, scanned the horizon of the celebration, as the mind reached out with a third more trained and unseen eye, casting his awareness like a psychic net over his immediate surroundings, leeching and garnishing surface thoughts from those who might be of weak and poor constitution of mind or body.

This slippery fellow moved with the flowing current of people down what appeared to be main street, past the gaudy homes with open doors, inviting in any and everyone who passed by, though unbeknownst to them the danger of allowing certain beings to enter, for once they had a way in, they could come and go as one pleased. The thought flashed with the speed of white hot lightning down the corridors of his mind and stretched thin pale lips, with a hint of charcoal dusting, into a forced smile.

Happenstance had brought the Beggar to the epicenter of this untimely journey upon one of the many main squares, but by chance not just any square, but the very same in which something had pulled and drew upon his mind to follow. A trail that was familiar, close, and yet so far away. The feeling, this unknown compulsion drew his eyes up and toward a far reaching balcony. Pale oculars scanned those that seemed to be of some importance, and there was one, a woman.. and that is when it felt like a dagger being plunged deep into the soft tissues of his mind. His neural pathways felt like they were on fire.

A gnarled and skeletal hand, covered in the same organic-like metal as his staff, clutched the side of his head, pressing the thick material of his cowl against his obscured features. Pain shot through his brain, the blood vessels pulsed, raced, throbbed where blackness rose up and came crashing down with a wave of memory.. one in particular that involved a ring.. a ring made and forged of a dark metal, the same metal that comprised of his clutching appendage.

' At the last illustration of detail, shadowy mists coalescing in deep obsidian, gathering and swirling, the wafting tendrils of shadow seeking their prey, only to discover his left hand, stroking each individual digit until finally engulfing as if devouring his ring finger, tightening in sudden savagery, a bite embedding deep against the bone, entwining essences to create something more then previously he had been. A cooling and the shadows gone, a band carved of unknown material resembling black gold, but bore no reflection other then a constant swirling effect beneath the surface; adorned with elaborate hieroglyphics of an unknown codices so only he would understand the inscription and the nature of a nefarious offering. Not only a boon of Shadow but also that of the Void itself granting the attributes of all the venoms of Darkness. The inscription had read..'

" .. Arali Sila Zida.." his voice broke through the repression of personal space and sound which had been drowned out over the cacophony of music and high altitude explosions of colorful lights.

Three simple but clearly powerful words that rippled with a life all of their own. The moment the syllables crossed his lips, red glowing veins began to creep into existence around the outer edges of his eyes.. the once hunched figure flexed, as his spine seemed to stretch and move beneath the cloak. He stood tall, broad shoulders dispelled the illusion of something weak and frail of health.

The still beguiled visage of a Beggar took a step back between two of the buildings, into the mouth of an impeccable alleyway, melting into the shadows, or had it been the shadows were or had reached out for him, summoned by something deep inside and caressed over with seeking fingers of a lover's embrace. All that remained of his presence was the now triangular appearance of a blood-red stare. Eyes like smoldering coals. Burning with a glowing crimson and uniformed color, which never blinked nor allowed his gaze to falter from her countenance.

But for a moment, as the height of exploding lights filled the sky, a streak of red, like a shooting star slicing across the sea of stars above had caught his attention. Many and most would not have even noticed such a mundane occurance, but to the Beggar it seemed almost as important as the woman upon the balcony.

" And so it begins.. The Wamphyri have arrived.."



The Ancient One
Staff member
Uachauguthlo System IV- U'rsthollosha Spiral
The K'ctha-Zothan Imperial 1st Anniversary: Hēi'Lánhuā Festival
Cyotha-Ysha Palace.

Gardens Always Have Secrets

In such places beyond nightmares, between midnights and immense emptiness beyond measure, it was always a mild amusement as beings sought to chase the tempests that had the least respect for the pillars they raised themselves upon. They sought to understand the obviously presented environment around them with such eager drive, so willing to swallow whatever swill was feeble enough to believe the sparks of silver that left their tongues. Minjun had learned about the power of accurate knowledge from his father, it made the cracks in the bard-like tales sung by the tongues of most men a passing amusement and idle playthings that passed into the oblivions that were soon forgotten in heat of the chase among the twilight banners of space. How do you know of spaces you have never occupied? Through streets of revelers that ever widened towards the epicenter of Imperial activity, the strange actions of unknown soldiers beneath the dark cowl and ever consented egress bore no trepidation at all upon the young man who strangely knew the footpath through the unsilvered mirror from which he was received. It seemed unquestioned, and in the confirmation that it gave possibly the mere scent of similarity to which they yielded.

His lean and athletic composition and the slender tipped ears suggested an ignorant assumption of elfin nature, or perhaps even that which they actually designed it to mock. Regardless, just as the paternal and maternal source, it bore a definition all of its own, measured in the masculine forecast and chiseled of niranium with the spark of agility and grace in movement. Regal demure muted by engrained soldier hone, Minjun was perhaps more deserving of the title his father continually pushed in his speeches than he let on. Black unbannered military garb, denoted in the mandarin style which further enhanced such a lean physique, provided an easy recess into perceiving vanish with each pass from lantern light to shadow as he walked. The luminescence of even the alit orchid-like blossom upon his collar even surrendered eventually in each transition.

Warm honey orbs swarmed with webs of the blackest ink, a painted tapestry of those dying suns that lit the skies like moons. Red painted lanterns lifted from the more fortunate crowds in praiseful splendor of the celebration of the festival to which he was a witness. It reminded him of the celebrations held by Lao'Taun and then in the honor of his father following that violent succession of violent revenge. Such things passed for it was strong who reigned within the arms and this place certainly gave a certain familiarity to it, even beyond what came from the memory of a very different version which inexperienced eyes had explored.

This last leg of the journey felt almost like the silent, tranquil moments after the angriest of storms. In denial of being told no, but under the same motion of assigned missions and classified incidents he had searched for, anyway. Over time, it was like a hunt for treasure that only held value to him and no one else. From the fragments of transmission to a rumored connection, it had all painted a picture that now was going to take shape or be proven false. Minjun was ready for either eventuality, for in some ways he carried upon him the deeds of his father and mentor as well, the last steps were absolutely a measure of persistence for the sake of more than just the probably perceived foolish soul that climbed stairs and passed higher and higher standing figures within the native cultural ecosystem. He wouldn't wash this down with champagne despite the pleasant offers in the pauses between spiraling climb.

The last steps to the highest of high had contemplation of what had already been decided. What to say and how to announce his father's words rang within his mind, a reminder that the decision to say nothing would be the wisest of entry of all. They would see who and what he was and judgment would stem uncontrolled from that, be it he spoke or not. There were obviously others who sought attention ahead. There was a certain feeling to it that reminded him of the extravagant movements of one spider that his father had been breeding, a dance upon the web to attract prey. He may have spent the historic moments of his life in the dawn, but since he could remember after the crossing there had been nothing but this comforting blackness. He pulled the mask down and sunk it within the thin mandarin collar. Unlike some, he had no reason to cling in that darkness, for he breathed it like the air.

The woman went by many names, and he knew what he figured were only a few. One of the additional reasons he had chosen this approach to wait silently to receive address first is that he reserved a name that he had not seen given; for as far as he was aware, he was the only one who could give it.


Sometimes the thoughts compelled by the mind of one, should remain with the one.

The orchestral melody mixed with the many voices of those in attendance of the party until it just become one nuance, and then drowned out with the colourful explosions which ornamented the skies above. Her starless gaze shimmered like the void-dance rippling on the midnight tide with the resplendence- not menacingly, not any look in particular that could be interpreted; just unresponsiveness and cold, howbeit still beheld an 'innocent-like' wonder in her own silent nature. Despite being held in silent resolve, moving away from present company, leaving them to maybe contemplate what actions they would next take, steps with caution should be the chosen path. It then that a series of equations which began to tug on Xytrinah's essence to a degree that it just couldn't go ignored. One familiar, the other familiar but something else. The sensations were like claws ripping beneath the surface, but more poignantly within her own complex genetic design. “Not possible.”

Familiarity echoed through each fibre of her being, breaking her train of thought and the monotonous discussion that already took place; but seemed to have held no significance- pointless. Names and fading faces of old beckoning to her through the vespers of an obscure memory; they lingered there almost stoic in the further-reaches of her mind to almost the point of wistfulness. Senses drove her to particular shores, at the hour of interlunar midnight, staring out across the incensed gardens where lamps burned rarely and the languid-gliding clouds muffled the stars and the swarming crowds below. At least what had been promised, if only it was to herself, it had been accomplished. A silent but personal victory, none there had the forbearing's of knowledge too.... only the ones who survived the ordeal and now thus celebrated. It brought an old quote to mind, and that quote now found sound across rubicund apertures, "Yes indeed, that which is my garden" .

The colours of that garden now decorated the skies in revelation. Smiling to herself over the crystal rim of the intricate goblet. But the words too held a sinister meaning only known to her.

A red star streaked the skies amongst the phoenixes and orchids...

Dark wisps of nostalgia carried her further into the labyrinths of memory, back where there were only the joys of contentment hadn't come at a "personal" cost, but somethings just don't go as planned.... even for those who execute them typically with flawless precision. Tilting head ever so slightly guiding the mantle of silk black hair flowing over her shoulder and past the concaved art of waist, lifting upwards and positioning herself on the side of the onyx-crystal balustrade that dropped down to the multitudes of squares below. "Well... are you happy now?" Whispered to whoever those words were exactly indeed for, drifting on the ghostly winds, left to discernment, but soon broken by a stifled laugh from the glass, that maybe sounded more like a choke at the incoming flippancy.

>>Encrypted Message: MV HARPY IV
To: Xytrinah Equinius

You're really back? Firstly, I thought it was Vorca screwing with us all, strange to see you planetside? What's with that?
But, do I have to call you Empress, sounds like a bad appetizer on an Ayenee menu? I know you hate that word...oh....by the way, you owe me a fancy drink when I get back, chances are I am going to get so bloody "lit". Those mint green beverages with metallic swirly things, lots of ice. It smelled somewhat like campfire smoke and tasted like hydraulic fluid, apples and it caused tingling and numbness in the extremities. By the way, wishing you were here.

Revelation is the Law. Yadda Yadda, bullshit, bullshit.
Admiral Alara Lirranus <<

‘Current’ files and reports sent from Alara that Xytrinah immediately began scanning through the report down-links; meanwhile electing, rather to watch the swinging charades of flickering illuminous illustrations caressing the night through the violaceous hues. Using the internal HUBS and drives, in a matter of a blink flicking through page upon page of statistics. Searching through the millions of terminals... noticing quite a few serious discrepancies and severe weak spots in the overall foundations of outermost surface. Nothing ever came without some possible setbacks. It was a short-lived interruption, but a conventional one. Alara and her had become quite close over the years, there was no reason to hide the alliance; it only held strength to the all-embracing umbrella betwixt their peoples and worlds. It also greatly weakened the superstition and paranoia of another military ruse between their nations. Mistakes of the past were not to be systematic; heavily daedalean preventions had long been put in place, pitilessly as the Shen had witnessed.

▌Encrypted Message: Cyotha-Ysha Palace.
To: Admiral Alara Lirranus. MV Harpy IV

You have the worst possible timing.

‘Strictly’ Off record. I think you mean 'Absinthe'? It's bromidic. And please fucking save me from hearing about the itchiness, dampness or numbness of your extremities, please. Disturbing.

On record. Previously correspondence: I don't see the necessary requirement for re-deployment at this point in time when investigating the actual nature of present business, it's a celebration for fuck's sake. Remember what that is? Apparently green swirly drinks with umbrellas, waking up feeling like a S'ugongula anal-birthed you?

As for the other question, no, it's just going to keep the peace here but will probably piss off everything else in this cluster that has a mgshugnah or eight!

FYI, regardless of the employer who wishes to remain anonymous that automatically places sceptical question on the true denominator of this circumstance. I am currently studying the chart and blueprints of the actual architecture of the facilities structure, and I do have concerns for the actual stability of the outermost surface that is certainly showing weak spots in the crust and the glacial structures here. I will keep going through the reports as you forward them. If there is any change for the worst, inform me immediately and I will personally assign to deployment. Give me an excuse to get out of this dress. I think I am just about done perfecting "not celebrating". Honestly the outcome and the expense vastly did outweigh the score.

But we've done what we set the course to do.
Going forward.

Xytrinah ▌

Ending communications and disconnecting from further distraction. The system was well patrolled, most traffic direction to the quarantine stations at least until the following appointed hours- there was no concern of any threat, and even so, they'd have to get past the legions of battle-ready vessels and leviathans. Except for the Prime world, travel wasn't restricted or repressed.... tyranny and totalitarianism long outlawed since the Celestial Liege. A new way had to be constituted and adapted to. If only for the preservation of life itself. Certainly, there had been enough of death, she even excelled at being the bringer of it closely astride with its beloved companion betrayal more times than she cared to remember.

Calculation seemed now at its zenith, as two distinctive signatures pulled potently on ebony threads, but one held more dominant as it was closer.... the crystalline glass within her hand burst into the diamond dust of fragments; the wine dripped with an added rich hyacinth alluvium twixt slender digits. It was a sensation so foreign, convoluted, aesthetic in its meaning. It pooled and moved with its own sentience into wreaths of darkish matter, the current scenery appearing to waver into solid walls, lavish decorations, meaningless shapes as this continued in interwoven spirals. Ominous static crackling of blackened, now visible veins, nebulous potency in defiance of any reality, sparks of midnight ebony flittering and hissing like some horror for the void itself. Impalpably with the gusty strands through shattered liminal and between formless gates Xytrinah stepped henceforward. Laces of metamorphic nebula's fell and shifted, her materializing embodiment crafted back to flesh and bone. directly at his side, staring directly at him.

Silent at first. Studying his handsome features, there was no mistake. Had Xytrinah not identified her own quintessence she could have sworn he was a ghost from her past, Koshiro. There was no sardonic lilt, no typical smirk over claret-coloured countenances- if anything she felt far from patronizing or smug but in that silence, somehow, smooth-honeyed tones sung forth. "What a question to behold beneath the cosmos that now stands in question.." How the articulations undulated, emphasizing and stressing the "stand" in reference to him directly, then the upper tones whispering into the silk-mellifluous timbres of a unique and unusual accent- falling to complete taciturnity. Perhaps her eyes stated more, imbued like amaranthine stars dancing in the firmament—nebula's and galaxies within them oscillating.

Radu the Accursed

New Member
II.. The Arrival

Now one may be wondering just how in the hell this once thought Beggar to be none other than Radu Ferenczy, the Ferenc, now perhaps Radu the Beggar, but preferably the Accursed, as those who had ' resurrected ' referred to him as such. Yet to many he had met his untimely demise when the absorbed powers of The Nameless One eventually consumed him from the inside out..

To ultimately escape the inevitable, Radu had willed his other, the alien vampiric symbiotic parasite that lived within to expell its one and only egg into the nearest living organism. He had willed all of himself, his knowledge and experience into this offspring. Unknown to even Radu, a portion of The Nameless One's power lived on, embedded into the Ring in which ' Atra ' had given him, the very object which his newly reconstituted Leech had absorbed into itself..

And here is where the trick comes into play, as his previous mind and body were being ripped apart and consumed, he had placed a few well hidden complusions, veiled and hidden thoughts into the infant mind of his Parasite.. a power hungry drive to find his way back to life, to her, and a time release lock on all his previous memories once his eyes had drank in her very image. A flooding rush of dark times, bloodied victories, death, and conquest, the slaughter of many, and the devastation of realms while sinking into a near infinite blackness.



Right before the revelation of the Beggar's memories.. a craft silently swam through the cold and silent embrace of a star-filled space. Morphotic projections filled the view-screen of the world looming before the ship. The interior was silent as a tomb. Indicator lights flashed here and there, and the floor crawled with an ankle high blanket of fog..or mist.. a Wamphyri produced mist, that generated from the center most helm, the seat of the Commander, better yet, a Lord of the Wamphyri.

" By all indications... there is a Wamphyri bio-signature coming from this particular World."

There came a slight acknowledgment from the Lord, whom sat in deep shadows, large as a monolith was his obscured outline. Amber eyes shown only a small amount of emotion, set evenly apart like those of a Hunter, yet they resembled the eyes of a Wolf, a Beast. The large figure made a slow waving gesture, and the integrated pilot took the sign as a means to proceed, and directed the ship to drop and came slicing towards the unknown world, punching a hole through the atmosphere, leaving a burning trail through the night sky that was all but hidden amidst the celebration taking place far far below.

Should any welcomed or unwelcomed parties take interest in the incoming craft, identification scans of the ship would reveal its registered name as the ' Vargulf '.. a scout-class vehicle owned and operated by a game hunter by the name of Dimitrij Markov ( an alias of course ), but to prying eyes, they were just here to enjoy a few days of hunting in the unpopulated region not far outside of the city's domain.

Ion engines burnt hard as it swept over the targeted area, banking and then coming around in a slow circular pattern, with ports opening up on a section of the underbelly more toward the cargo/loading bay, and six pods dropped from below in various intervals before the twin powerful external engines began to rotate into a hovering maneuver..

" The traps have been dropped, M'lord..." the almost seemingly bio-mechanical voice of the pilot spoke, obviously confirming what the Wamphyri Lord already was or had been aware of.

These traps were of his own personal design, as a Hunter and Tracker, the traps are more like enclosed and pressurized cages designed to attract and catch local wildlife. Once inside, the cages would seal around the animal or exotic creature, and the interior would be flooded with a form of weaponized aerosol vampiric spores, forcing the wildlife to breathe it in and becoming infected with the Lord's own blood, causing the creatures to become vampires under his own telepathic control.

With the traps dropped and set, the craft made one more sweep over the landing zone before setting down. The ground was ablaze as the ship relaxed upon the landing gear with a small lurch, the whine of the ion engines powering down, the hiss of the lowering hatch created a billowing bank of steam or may have been a rolling cloud of Wamphyri mist as the large ( with a height of 198 cm ) form of the Wamphyri Lord sauntered down the ramp, almost like a loping stride like that of a beast.


Free of the ship and carrying what appeared to be an eight foot case, the figure slowed to a halt, feral eyes shifting from side to side, nostrils flaring, and his massive chest heaved outward as he sucked in a great deal of air into his lungs ( Wamphyri still have the capacity to breathe ). He caught various scents within his highly sharpened sense of smell. Tasted them upon his tongue. Amber colored eyes flashed a hue of scarlet as he switched his sight from a normally accute vision, where the world was in tones of crisp and clear veils of vibrant life to a more thermal heat sense more focused on the draw of blood, the life beating pulse.

" For the Blood is the Life.." he whispered to himself. The family motto if one were to be so curious..

Without another thought the large man through back his head, a mane of long dark hair whipping back as he closed his eyes, lips peeling back as his vocal cords adapted to flow of his vampiric blood, and a long-drawn out howl erupted forth into the brisk night atmosphere. It felt great to hunt and his prey would be no easy feat. He might have their scent, but where as he was more skilled in using his vampiric abilities for shape-shifting, his target was more skilled in the Wamphyri arts of the Mind and tended to lean in the direction of Sorceries and Magics. But nonetheless it would be an entertaining challenge indeed, and headed off in the direction of the celebrating masses, assuming his quarry was lost amidst the sea of bodies.

Back to the front..

Radu pulled himself out from the swirling edges of that gripping blackness, back to the overjoyed sounds of those around him. His thoughts realigning and focusing on the here and now. A quick glance, and she had moved, interesting, was the first word that came to mind. Yet another feeling pulled his dividing attention in another distant, but moving ever closer direction. An all too familar, similar pull. Someone of the same Blood. Like himself though different in terms of abilities. It was only a matter of time before they were bound to come looking for him.

Until he had been drawn to this world, the Order of the Black Angel had kept him secret from the Universe as a whole until such time as he had become accustomed to his new form and the changes brought forth by the adaptation of his parasite in order to maintain their mutual survival and seemingly endless existence.

" The Wamphyri descends upon the land. To wrap the world in night's black embrace. The restless dead will stir in their ancient tombs. And creatures born of blood shall rise to quench their savage hungers. Whispers shall echo from the crypts, beckoning with the promise of dark desires. And those who heed their call.. will be forever lost to the night.."

His thirst was becoming rampant, a strong yet powerful craving to dip elongating fangs into flesh, to feel that jettison of crimson life splashing against the interior of his mouth. The enticing aroma of lust-born activities drew him from the alleyway and up the immaculate and well preserved stairs and into one of the many homes open to the debauchery taking place within. The door closed slowly behind him and it was not long before the sounds became that of screams.. screams drowned out amongst the on going celebration.. as blood began to pool and run in red steaming rivulets from beneath the door and water-falling down the stairs.

" For the Blood is the life..."

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The Ancient One
Staff member
Minjun didn't betray that sturdy visage, in awe but unbroken into a bent knee or subservient reverence he looked upon the woman he had searched his entire life for. At that moment he came to an awareness of both her and his father. The stories made sense now, as mythical as they had seemed. Once she had addressed him, questioned the very origins that had likely betrayed her senses, the pressure was on him to explain himself. When he was a child, he had imagined this moment. As he grew, it had evolved into more than a dream to an intricate ambition that had pushed him into the scavenge of history for traces. In reflection, his younger self, although lacking in experience, held the heart in mind, and against the unfurling motions of powers before him, it made the most sense. "Hello, mother, I am Minjun, your son bore beneath parallel stars. I have sought you out with the blessings of my father, Koshiro. As betrayed as your senses may feel right now, believe them," he said to her. Even in slight trepidation of rejection, it felt as if his burdens sought the skies along with the fireworks and drifting painted lanterns. Satrinah, Xytrinah, Atra'Lamia, Trice Ascended Admiral of Empora, and as most would argue the rightful Aester of Noria was just some of her names, and yet he had selected for her a title that in his mind paled all others.

An uneasy silence took what felt like him to be minutes, yet was truly seconds to reconcile his thoughts. "I know you are consumed at the moment with the festival.
But instead of a total interruption, I'd like to join you and partake. We can discuss the many things that we have undoubtedly to cultivate as we enjoy this gathering of revelers in your honor," he suggested even because he knew what it was like to grasp at moments between the movements of the greatest leaders.

He felt intangible energies upon the flow of unseen winds, a strange satisfaction of his personal destinies. Yet he knew it was not just himself that he was there for, it was for his father as well. The place of mentor, hero, respected teacher in Minjun's life belonged solely to his father, who provided the light on his path even through the most confusing of times. He wondered if the woman before him could have foreseen these events; he knew full well she was an oracle and his discussions with Tetsuya had proven that. Minjun's mind raced with the years of interviews and discussions, the gathering of bits and pieces. Did the picture he had painted within his mind match that which now had been brushed upon the tapestries of reality? That was yet to be seen.


L'Cham Cluster

Koshiro sat at his desk with the lights of the city visible behind him in a spectacular backdrop. The volumetric images and the information from the scans on the relic were in constant movement in front of him as the mindhives performed the analysis. He had lost himself from the work, however, for even though the expanses that separated them, he knew well that his son had made contact. He couldn't help but consider the words which Tetsuya had uttered so many times, "Nothing will ever be the same..." he paraphrased quietly as he considered the outcomes of the events at hand. He closed his eyes and his forehead descended to his hands as he focused on the flow of his innermost energies as he contemplated the path of events that had come to this point. The fragment of Chonyosa was heavy upon his neck, and yet it had a warmth about it that seeded a new hope that held just the slightest of comforts.


Granting a firm and conservative smile, not retorting immediately to the turn of events as they were played out. A delicate manicured eyebrow shifted upwards at the appellation of “mother”. The arch gave more intensity to Xytrinah’s chiaroscuro eyes- evocative to the onyx pastures of interstellar space eternally ice-bound in starlight, now fixed intensely upon him, drinking in and observing every detail perceived and concealed upon Minjun’s visage. Added mention of Koshiro, only added to the silence; erstwhile nebulas and maelstroms could have torn galaxies asunder in the rage and wrath that name inspired as it had done so in countless times the past. But now, there was nothing to ensconce or provide obstacle; for like all things, that season had passed.

The silence even tore at her, the voidic energies within her gave their own voice which grated oppressively on the euphonious symphonies and the conversational myriad of those within the palace: a sort of possession- dark indistinguishable choirs until words finally found purpose..."So strange that we find ourselves now at this junction.” As the delivered words embraced and caressed the swirling tapestries. Spoken softly in a darkness’ emotion suitable to the situation, issued in such aurally mellifluous tones that even throughout the atmosphere they carried a crystalline clarity. Black Lotus eyes with a tinge of mercurial sheen swept his reflection away within Xytrinah’s eyes as they shifted towards the crowds below. She moved then, black silk robe flowed behind and around the statuesque structure of svelte form like a second shadow, and the gold decorations of embroidered blossoms on its folds glinted in the faint light.

Tresses of jet and midnight cascaded down the length of spine, iridescent yet so dark that it was indistinguishable. Dreams, nightmares of those events, the shivers of cold sweat, regret causing even shadow to flee in accompany to the squamous feeling like a creature slithering beneath flesh seeking an exit, any exit, through even the smallest of cuts. “Candidly I was barely consumed in the festivities, being pestered by some shadowy cock-puppet avowing how well he knows me, then proceeding to tell me who and what I need. I am surprised he then didn't ask me to espouse, and reside in his crystal castle with wizards, midgets, unicorns and a pretty paper crown.”

Xytrinah’s gaze remained staring without the blink of an eyelash over the combined architecture of stadiums and squares, the beauty and nightmarish effigies symbolizing the ‘true’ U'rstholloshan superiority and opulence. All those who professed to know her, had actually gained no genuine knowledge of her 'true-self'. “Eternity turns, and yet never brings us to the place where we want to be. If they knew it all then, would they do it again?”, a phrase of prophetic revelation, “Betwixt stimulus and action there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our reaction. In our response lies our growth and our freedom. Things are as they should be, but there are some changes possible that could benefit a better outcome, for all.”

Lowering head elegantly with a half declination to motion a ceremonial bow, courteous in its design. “Positive” announced slightly broader with caution, indicating change could be possible but the marginal lines twixt positive development and disaster were quite fragile. She knew these bearings surely were as difficult for him as it was for her: she didn’t need to be an oracle to decipher this.
“It is a pleasure to meet you finally, Minjun. I however would be a pitiful hostess if I did not grace you with hospitable company. I am though honoured to be in the presence of you, my son. That is a celebration in itself, is it not? “, uttered with a voice so circumspectly tender, acknowledging, not beguiled by the mellifluous ruthlessness that she was well distinguished for. "We can get to the complexity of the why's , how's and any questions you may have, later."

Not even attempting to conceal the are more pleasant mannerism, not the venoms that had enforced an intoxicating power within political scheme. Standing there, motionless like the portrait of the silver moon beneath the cold chrysochrous sun, where darkness and the hues of russet embers of dying worlds whispered their laments to the voids. Brushing back a long wayward strand of ebony which fell to obscure features, looking down for a moment as thumb nail clawed fingernail flicked against the back of the intricate orichalchum ring with its perpetual and deeply reflective surface, constantly changing as if the metal itself contained universes and arabesques of oblivion. Invaluable black-flickering rhombus tanzanite gems smiling with anathemic hues of variable shades of black and crimson forming ‘Orchidaceae’ sepals. Black diamond’s highlighting the structure of the flowers center and the petals. Grandidierite, pleochroic-resplendence glistening greenish blue in the soft incandescent light across the structure of delicate leaves cut to the finest detail, even to the parallel veins that appeared to contain a sentient life of their own. Patently obvious the unique item bore ritualistic and Occultic significance due to the power that rippled from the stone's depths and across the band that bound it to her slender digit. The ring itself stunning in its uniqueness and wealth.

Elongated fingernail toying with the adornment, encapsulated within her own thoughts for a brief moment before extending an arm for him to entwine his, if he so wished, no offense taken should the gesture be declined. Of course, Xytrinah wasn’t oblivious to the familiar energies of another, not as distinguished, but combined. Oddly. From another time, another place. He been watching from the darkness but now swept like monolithic wings, to slaughter, to partake in sanguine raptures; and wasn’t the only one during the festive dark hours; its atmosphere was thick with the scents of blood, orgies, drugs, death, love, joy and sadness- whatever emotion or pleasure imagined reigned, it was theirs to experience. Due to his announcement, " .. Arali Sila Zida.." 'agents’ were promptly sent to discover the source.
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Radu the Accursed

New Member
III.. The Dragon Cometh..

Gavony.. Human Settlement, Unknown Sector..

Screams of the dying and even those of the dead filled the twilight sky. Smoke drifted up in large amounts to blot out the stars overhead as flames licked at the still standing structures even though an unnatural chill seemed to be present within the air, causing the wind to howl and to carry the cries of the conquered ever so higher into that night-dark abyss.

Those that managed to survive the initial onslaught were being rounded up, drug from their hiding places, for how can one hide from such monsters who can smell their fear, and hear the racing beats of their hearts, and rounded up near the center square of the village. An ornate fountain once marked the village's center, a carved figure of some sort of winged humanoid deity out of white marble, was now smashed and upon its remains, sat and perched, was the one they knew to be The Dragon, resplendent within the aggressive and battle-scarred grasp of his armor.

An older man, sharply dressed, deep seated eyes, mutton chops, and receding graying hair, that was swept back along his temples to hide the fact that the tips of his ears were pointed. His hands were folded and clasped to the small of his back while he walked amidst the gathered villagers. Now and again he paused, looked down at one or two of the captives, clucked his tongue in a ' tsk'ing ' like manner before moving on. When the last of the villagers had been rounded up and delivered, Regis Renfell piqued upon his left heel, spinning in a very militant pose and bowed to his Lord and Master.


The Dragon motioned with a hand, and the bowing subordinate rose up and swiftly turned about to face the villagers. He lifted a hand, where slender but worn fingers stroked his chin. " I am Commander Renfell.. Regis Renfell.. the Voice of our great and powerful Lord of the Wamphyri Dracul.."

At the mention of the name Dracul, the warriors snapped to attention with right legs extended, right hand over their hearts, left arm out with palms down, chins to chest, and with one voice they proclaimed, " Căci Sângele este Viața." Commander Renfell nodded and gestured for the soldiers to rise from their praise.

" A man passed through this region some time ago.. Our Lord seeks knowledge of where this man might have gone.. Give us what we want and we will ' humbly ' be on our way.. Refuse.. and this region of your world will become uninhabitable for lifetimes to come.."

From his seat upon the ruined fountain, the Dragon leaned a bit forward, the dark holes of the skull-like helmet lit up with pinpricks of scarlet as his gaze swept slowly over each of the villagers in turn. Metal-clawed fingertips rose and fell, tapping against the marble while he seemed to study each of those that had been gathered before him. " Cel de acolo .. Eldermanul acestui sat .." he said with a deep baritone that was enhanced and amplified by the skull designed helmet.


Interlude.. the Celebration..

He could smell the blood over the scent of alcohols, the stench of sweat coming off so many gathered and crowded bodies. The large man was moving with ease when that sweet aroma of blood tickled his senses. Like a single drop of blood in a body of water, he honed in on it like a shark circling for a meal. An copious amount of blood, following the red mist of a trail as it wafted upon the chilled night air.

But there was something else.. it felt as if there were more than one of his kind present. There was a more faint feeling, further off and into the distance. Not unlike the one he was here to find, but there was no mistaking it. " Things begin to make more sense now," he breathed to himself as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting ever so closer it would seem to his prey.

The trail had lead him to a random street, up to a random nondescript door. Blood was congealing upon the stairs where it had obviously ran in copulate amounts, judging from the stemmed tide of carnage. He reached out a hand, pushing open the door. Blood-stained and dripped from every
possible surface one could imagine. Down the entryway hall, and leading himself to what could have been a grand common room, though now it had been turned into a slaughterhouse. His bestial eyes swept back and forth until his gaze settled upon the tall but lithe figure lounged upon a sofa, holding the rim of a crystal wine glass to an opened throat, filling it with blood.

He did not recognize the face, but he knew the presence inside, beneath flesh and bone. Dimitrij swung the case from around his back and threw it so it would land within centimeters of Radu's position.

" It has been too long a time, little Brother," he said with an amused look as he took in the spectacle in which his brother had lost himself to overindulgence and the lust for blood, seemingly gorging himself on all those that had been in attendance.

" What do you want, Mircea?" Radu did little to hide the vehemence in his tone toward the interruption from his older and more beastly brother. " Did Father send you to find me? To bring me back?" He rose while speaking, sent the glass flying out from his right hand, where it struck the floor with enough force to shatter into crystalline dust.

Mircea took a step back.. even though he was more than confident that he could take his younger brother in a brawling match, he still had to contend with his mental abilities as well as his knowledge of Sorcery. " On the contrary.. he did send me to find you, but, not to bring you back, but, to bring you a gift."

Radu glanced down at the case and then back up to his brother, meeting his amber-glowing eyes with scarlet fire. " And what might that gift be, hmmm?" His tone was cold, condescending to almost being sarcastic. But yet there was an edge of curiosity to his voice. " Am I to assume its inside this case?"

" No. Your gift is on board my ship.. that there.."
he made a gesture with his hand toward the case he had flung previously in his little brother's general direction, " I have been holding it for you.. I knew if and when you found your way back, it might come in handy as one might say.. As for your gift, father sent a genetically cloned and augmented body for you and your parasite to inhabit.. if it suits you."

Radu tapped the side of his face momentarily as he took in the words which Mircea had spoken. As he thought this through, the black swirling material surfaced through his skin and took form of a ring. It bit into the flesh, down to the bone and his gaze snapped up. " She knows we're here now.." he said with a distance to his voice. He felt the connection of the rings, but it was muddled by this unfamiliar form. He closed his eyes and allowed his other to manipulate and to amplify a mental push, pushing outward a telepathic tendril to probe along the surface of her thoughts and to leave a message only she could perceive.

" Soon.. Very soon.."
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The Ancient One
Staff member
Minjun studied his mother with intensity, lithe battle-born physique shroud in mystique; his glossy black orbs reflected the swirling vortices and nebulous plumes of her own gaze but hued within complex rift-like distortions that tore the reflections apart and swallowed them into the strange, dark chasm framed in magenta definitions. For a moment, he became affixed upon a point. His mind drifted to scenes of conflicts past that had been told to him as bedtime stories. It was fascinating to imagine this woman, this dark, powerful goddess in battle, back to back with his father. It was no wonder that Koshiro had silently mourned that loss, embraced its pain to fuel ascension. The young man's frame settled in a slightly more relaxed pose. Shoulders eased as he listened to the descriptions of her visitors. Amusement tugged at his features at her assessment.

It was no surprise this woman had been a part of the weave from which he was made, her vivid description had a certain ring to it that reminded him of the rather fragrant words he had used to describe the native population outside of New Celeste during their forceful colonization of Ayem'vu. "I must be blunt; I would have come sooner had I known your location. I suppose my father felt that timing was of importance with this meeting," he offered in reflection, "Even by a few minutes, I could have saved you the nescience of shadowy visitors with the intentions of using you to bolster their grotesque appearance. I assume they departed in search of their fairy tales to more manageable prey like goblin princesses and space kittens?" he asked, then gave a dramatic swath of his glance through the shadows, "A shame I missed out, I adore a good fantastical tale spun by those with small minds who cling to the shadows; always decadent when they realize that there are places darker than those they cling to hiding their inadequacies. My father has had similar visitors over the years. I always enjoy the show," he stated.

He followed her movements, a graceful step to her side as he joined her to look out over the reveling city. He took it all in as her prophetic words rang out in an echo within his mind after they were spoken. These structures, towers of potency, and etched gothic projection which stood so proudly beneath impossible skies shroud in the strange covers which filtered the light of dead stars and strange bodies which appeared as moons. It was not his mother that witnessed Leviathans, but it showed clearly it was them in witness of her, in what she had built. The journey up those winding steps to his balcony of Imperial perch flooded back within his mind; the slightest of smiles showed on his face as he realized the revelers he had passed, excused his rush and turned down offers to join were from those who had obviously come to this place long before on the Unmei. It seemed, however, the displays of loyalties went upon that fateful day of dawn and sunset long before truly ended with a dual defeat. He wondered if either of them knew they had truly fought on the same side yet again. Perhaps his presence was proof of that.

"I am honored as well mother; I am in awe of you. Of all, you have built. Questions can wait, but I'm sure I will answer a few along the way. I'm a thankful guest, and your time is a gift which should be appreciated...from the light of your glorious city and not from those who think they can lock you in crystal palaces," he added that last comment merely for his own amusement. Minjun closed his eyes for just a moment, although his lids were closed it didn't impair his vision, it in fact it enhanced it. Streams of exotic particles and beneath that the weave of dark matters that streamed through the skies above seemed ambient to him, a solace of calmness settled him internally for just a mere moment; home was not always a place, but just that - a moment.


··Is ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛɪᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪs﹐ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ·s ɪɴᴇϙᴜɪᴛʏ﹐ ᴏʀ ʙᴇɴᴇғɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴜᴛᴡᴇɪɢʜ ɪᴛs ʟᴏss﹖
I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʀᴇᴛʀɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ﹐
ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs.··


There are countless universes, galaxies, stars, worlds, empires, kingdoms and lands that exhibit the blemishes of war. Millions of legends about the chaos caused by the tyranny of Gods, Devils, Warmongers sand monarchs; and though this may beleaguer innumerable nations. The price is unavoidably the same, no matter whose head and shoulders hold the burden of it. Yet, stirring in the helix stillness of darkness and harangue; beautiful things stained the skies with their own stories of deliverance through difficulty. Those images danced in a radiance that would have blinded any mortal eye; a tango of war and peace, death and life, of endings and beginnings: the symbology etching its banners and as they were brought down from the very heavens like hungry ravens across battlefields. Xytrinah was not a stranger to such things and she believed nor was her son. She knew of the troubles from those far-flung reaches.

Chin ascended to the air, permitting the talons of wind to rake back the thigh length cascades of iridescent ebony exposing the achromatic contours of picturesque face, as if the stars themselves had chiselled her beauty from the sacrificed radiance of ancient suns.. Unable to hold back the chuckle in response to 'space kittens' noting full well those who reminded her of such terms. "I understand his....trepidation, and concern for you, my reputation ultimately precedes me., or at least what they 'think' they know about me. " 'Think' softly accentuated to agitate accent and to offer insight and yet Xytrinah's awareness extended beyond the cognisant, but didn't fully depart from Minjun. Thoughts developing in the privacy of her thoughts: Did he have matters in which to speak of in regards to Koshiro or was he merely here just to witness her for himself.

For a moment, she tensed as Minjun's arm graced hers past the fabric of scarlet glove- energies vibrated and reverberated all around. Electric magnetic waves, temporal foreshocks, as if the planar barriers were toppling and time was strangely behind its normal pace, then snapping back with substantial shockwaves. Such a cataclysmic effect, the past and present clashing and other empires elsewhere fell upon the other like dominoes just in the sheer awe of it. "They were incorrect." Those words trailed off as if a somewhat sorrow was attached to them, disembodied and hidden behind the agenda to obscure it. In truth it didn't matter, it didn't then and it certainly didn't now.

"However... in your father's defence. Had the shoe been on the other foot, and being what most believe me to be, and perhaps they are correct. I personally wouldn't have permitted you to come. Now having stated that, I can see you are a man of your own mind, and knowing your father, as I did. I do not think he could find peace with it, without allowing you the opportunity to see for yourself. Your father... Koshiro...." briefly the name drifted from her lips and caressed by the winds that swirled and coalesced with the vibrant energies awash on the pall of all who shared the exuberance. Her slender form tensed. "He was always a far more resplendent being than I. Even in the first stages. I had never known such dedication to any causes, leading doomed people to an unsure existence; and still they clung onto hope and they celebrated that hope. As they do now." Xytrinah led him closer to the spawning entrance where other imperials and militant names of note conversed and drank, laughed, loved their companions and shared their praises of victory... she continued.

"I guess you can see clearly, whom some of these 'people' are? I shall at least answer that question for you. No one here is a prisoner, if they wished to leave with you this night, they could do so, of their free will, so long as you have a home for them to return to, a world not governed by wars, constant veto and constipated archaic governments. They are yours, I do not wish to keep them. But.... you have to promise me, they return to clear skies and better horizons." It was the one thing she had to make distinct. "But they do not leave here without that light to govern them." Her other armour adorned hand rose to cup the fabrics of his arm, as if in reassurance or a physical gesture, "Your father was once that light, so if you tell me.... they have a place to go, and they wish it. Take them. But I assure you, and this is my promise, they will come to no harm here until that time. " Maybe she had answered a question he had, or one that he needed to hear; this time or for the future.

Shaking her head with an almost solemn gesture, though never knowing the true essence of the word in all its forlorn qualities... brooding was for mindless neophytes with nothing to offer but their pathetic sombre aptitudes. Fervent qualities were never something to be admired, yet, there was something humbling in the broil of stirred nostalgia of her dialogue. Eclipsed features radiant with a glow that couldn't have come from any kind of flesh and blood, for it possessed a distinctive 'empyrean' impression, arm in arm walking along the promenade, posture tall and proud as a spear, yet sweetly curvaceous beneath the flowing pellucid silks embroidered orchids with an effervescent stellar quality. Smiling liberally, returning all obeisance given by bystanders as her and Minjun walked past.

Whispers of inquisitiveness passed from each- still her attention did not sway from Minjun, murmurs arose and developed into more audible intonations of speech and questions between the patrons filtering into the palace ballrooms and beyond the black pellucid structures. For those who knew Koshiro, there were even sounds of disbelief. One, amongst the countless stood forwards, bowing at the waist towards Xytrinah and her companion. Naertho Soterias. A tall, and lean man with pale skin, thick titian hair styled with a crew cut dressed in an aegean suit with white accents and collar. There was a rather enthrallingly obnoxious air about him, perhaps it was his personality or perhaps his general directness. Nonetheless, a few took pride in knowing him while secretly despising him. It was evident in the sideward narrowed glances but well occupied by the swarms of women swinging off his attentions that soon became disinterested at the sight of the new arrival arm and arm with Xytrinah.

"Naertho Soterias." Holding his hand outwards towards Minjun, an investigative expression shimmering in his eyes. Xytrinah gave a soft inclination of her head towards the bow in response, with a tenebrous stare, "Are you quite all right? You're gaping wider than a Sluga'-Slaghn at feeding time, it's rather ill-mannered especially towards your superiors, Naertho." Responding to his introduction with a cold, disinterested tone, turning her features to her son. "Naertho Soterias. Imperial Chamberlain. Senior Executive Director. H'stho-Otek Corporation. He's a worm of a man." Bluntness rolled from her lips in salacious sonata. Naertho grinned, taking a sip of Uraenatl; the pale blue and emeraldine swirls sparkled and spumed within the luminous glass. Xytrinah waited for the ambrosial fluid to pass the mans apertures before continuing, "Minjun Kiri. Son of Koshiro Kiri. My son. Ird Psailsa E'U'rsthollosha Sphoraul, Bsi'ash Pauruh Inzusuhi'asi."

Head tilting to the left, ravenesque silks trailing over her form with the motion. A sly and confident smirk rising over those lips of lustre dark-liquored eyes beaming with a vehemence that could only be described as enchanting and spell-binding, just as the drink was abruptly spat over his gilded black swans and their expensive glamourous attire. An expression of pure disbelief, reeling from shock and choking at the same time causing others to stare and gossip further not to mention the burst of hival communications. Patting Naertho roughly on the back while reaching in to whisper into his ear, "Beholden, you did deserve that for trying to rattle the stars. Mindful Naertho, some stars don't like to be rattled." A warning audibly uttered with the benediction of menace crossing sanguine lethal apertures, expression fluid in both its poisons as it was with its monarchical grace. Smiling at Minjun, as a waiter arrived and offered glasses of Zhdozqiach and other nourishments that looked less virulent.

"Zhdozqiach. It's prestigious only for Imperials, It's quite pleasant, unique and complex in its process. Or, something else less.... mephitical?" Trying to make the moment less awkward, for both. Outside the ambiance had changed from the aerial exhibitions to musical festivals; and those whom had flooded the auditorium moved to the outer entresol. Only those remained temporarily gape further, then almost reluctantly taking more private seating beneath the glow of pallid neon radiance or partaking outside in the gardens to enjoy the entertainment that echoed throughout the black synthetic diamond city and the hanging tapestries above.

"Brilliant night, we are your slaves,
may you ever rise over their graves,
weave your light, make me as dust
or chaff to the skies, to aeons rust
never bright.

Brilliant night, domain of stars
scintillant domain of rubied Mars,
weave your light in mystic runes
void of joy or pain, over the moons
ever bright.."

[Kiss of Secrets- Brilliant Night]

Dark electro, hypnotic percussions astride deep bass, soulful, sonorous -synthesized whispered voices in the undertow of dominant vocals, provocative, asphyxiating the cheering of the crowds. Volumetric displays broadcasting the event over the spires of skyscrapers .

The choice would be his. Xytrinah simply removed her silver-adorned hand from Minjun's arm to take a glass and raise it to her lips, choosing to continue in this revelry.

"Tell me of you, Minjun. Your success, triumphs, pursuits, dreams, aspirations. What mechanics and desires make you who you are and what you strive to be in the eyes of your father and all that will come to admire you." Mental sharpness extending the limitation of any confined space, soaring within the ambiance of the building and even outwardly into the streets below, a smothering darkness - an organized, intelligent interstellar vapor, utterly different in its properties from mundane forms of shadow, gas or mist absorbing into itself whatever it touched—dissolving even beings (should not evade its path) and inanimate matter. Privately finding some answers herself since those words had been ushered in conjuration; including location. It wasn't all that difficult considering the nature of how the city had become possible.

Via cortical thinking [ED biogenetic circulatory system—invisible and immune to most sensors and scanners, fuelled by the telepathic potency of her own virulent somatic cells] ||Utilize Vesper Unit. Lower Urasaki. Sector Xianqiu. Track and identify. Report|| Providing exact coordinates where the 'target of interest' (Radu: The Beggar) and his companion currently occupied. From the Cimmerian crystal spires of the Cnignnix Citadel situated within the middle of K'ctha. Desmodus-shaped Vesper drones were deployed. A genuinely effective security intelligence drone, known for ruthlessness and the ability to obtain results effective and strategical. Their nitid carapace structures bright with a steady but subdued shine; arachnid eyes piercing the thick darkness and shadows below as they flew towards their objective. For now their only purpose was surveillance, but if attacked, are capable of direct combat.
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Radu the Accursed

New Member
Gavony.. Human Settlement..

The Elderman quivered and shook with uncontrollable fear as the Dragon's gesture came to rest upon his withered and shrunken form. Two of the nearby warriors moved with urgent need and quickly snatched the old man up, grabbing him from beneath each arm and hauling him up to worn sandal feet. Fear was etched into heavily wrinkled eyes. Tears were like a flood over weathered and pockmarked cheeks.

" We know nothing of any man, we swear.."

Commander Renfell threw his head to the side and scoffed with his gaze canting toward that of his Lord. The Dragon nodded his head, and Renfell smiled a cruel and wicked grin as he stepped lively toward the Elderman. With a simple gesture he caressed the elderly man's wet cheek with the back of his fingers before delivering a brutal backhand.

" My Lord does not believe you.. So once again, I ask, has a man recently passed.."

Renfell's word were cut short when one of the younger men, dressed in plain and battered armor broke free in a moment of confusion, ripping a blade out of the hand of one of the those who had been holding him down, and charged, lunging head long toward Commander Renfell. Caught off guard and unaware of such intentions, the tip of the blade punctured leather and tore through inhuman flesh.

Rage and anger flashed through Renfell's eyes at the audacity of this boy. Lips peeled away to reveal elongating teeth that scythed through his gums. Blood and spittle flew from his mouth as he snarled his hatred. Renfell's features began to change. His ears became more pronounced, pointed and fleshy. The more aristocratic cut of his nose melted away becoming more of a convoluted snout like that of a bat. Claws sprungs from his fingertips which he raised, poised, dropping back and ready to swipe at the young villager.


" OPRI!" came the voice of the Dragon, he had stood, his helmet dropping to his feet and coming to a rolling stop just a few centimeters away from Renfell. Startled the young man turned the stained blade in the Dragon's direction. His gaze fixated upon the Wamphyri Lord where he stood menacingly staring at the boy with fire in his eyes.

" Renfell, dă deoparte .. lasă-l pe băiat la mine.." the Dragon commanded. Renfell stepped aside and motioned for the their warriors to lower their own weapons and allow the young man to pass unharmed. The Dragon took a few confident strides away from his perch upon the ruined fountain. He lifted his hand and motioned for the boy to come forward.

" Come, boy.. show me the conviction of your strength.. Come attack me.. draw blood and I shall leave you and yours unmolested.. Lose.. and I will erase you and your family from the pages of history.."

Vlad ' the Dragon ' Dracul, Lord of the Wamphyri, was not one to speak in the common tongue. It detested him to lower himself to such vulgarity when he sat higher above those that had been declared as nothing more than mere cattle. It only set to create a mild irritation having to converse with such a crude and barbarian language, yet it had seemed justified in this moment of proud defiance that radiated from the young bold man.

The young man was taken back by the gesture, by the way the monster known to him as the Dragon spoke, the ultimatum that had been given. For a moment the young man thought to turn tail, drop the sword, and run, but as he glanced toward the Elderman, he saw Commander Renfell standing behind the kneeling elderly with clawed fingers wrapped around his throat. The tips of the nails digging into the worn flesh, drawing tiny lines of blood.

" Y..y..y..you MONSTERS!" the young villager cried out and swept up his arms to bring the sword up and over his head before bringing it down to point the tip in the Dragon's direction. All the rage and anger that had built up was pushed through his body, into his muscles, and his resolve. He had manged to wound one, he had confidence in his sword training. Taking in a deep breath and expelling it outward in an ' aaaaaarrrrgggghhh ' and charged the Dragon with the sword tip thrusted toward his chest.

The Celebration..

Radu, in all of this confusion, the blood-lust, the arrival of his older brother, he had almost forgotten about the case that rested at his feet. His attention had been divided into a three-way struggle of domination. He had to focus his thoughts for a moment. First was the case.. kneeling down, a quick flick of his fingers and he snapped open the clips that held it shut.

" Timur Noctis.."

A massive two-handed sword designed with a Soul-Steel hilt, a large black onyx for a pommel stone, and its name.. meaning ' Night’s Dark Terror..' emblazoned along the blade.. laid in side the case as the hinged lid was lifted and flung open. Once upon a time he had carried a similar weapon, but that seemed like a life-time ago.


" Father sent a squadron to fetch the remains of your previous sword.. and used the pieces to have it reforged, by force, if you must know."

Radu considered what his brother had just spoken with a near quiet tone. He stood up and his hand hovered out over the blade and with a slight compulsion pushed from his mind, through his arm and focused upon his hand, the weapon moved and then leapt upon into his awaiting grasp. His fingers closed around the smooth hilt. The soul-steel felt cool beneath his touch. It felt a bit heavy but not too unfamiliar.

" And what are the terms and conditions attached to the cloned body Father is so willing and generously to give in exchange for.." Radu spoke as he lifted the blade and rested the flat side of the sword against his shoulder.

" He needs your abilities to help find and locate our nemesis.. there is a new Necroscope.."

A sneer caressed and flirted across Radu's charcoal dusted lips. A fleeting moment of emotion that passed just as quickly as it appeared. " And so there is another.. the Universe trying to balance the shift in power.. the Wamphyri rise up.. and the Universe produces a new Necroscope.."

Mircea nodded his agreement. For time immemorial, the Wamphyri had one true enemy. The power of the Necroscope had almost been in the clutches of the Dragon, but unforeseen circumstances had otherwise played out into a different sort of outcome, and the power escaped and had found a new host amongst those ravaged and left for dead.

" So be it," Radu commented back, but by the tone of his voice, Mircea knew that he was concentrating upon something else. Something, someone distant. Or perhaps something much closer. Radu was more of the psychic, and Mircea was more in tune with that of his more bestial nature. His pointed ears twitched with the incoming sound. His senses were better suited to his needs.

" I believe we have company.."

Radu snapped out of whatever was or had been holding his attention at bay. His gaze tearing away and looking past his brother toward the door that had been left ajar when Mircea had entered. The shapes resembled that of bats, the all too similar familiars that the Wamphyri had and felt a kinship with, but these were not bats, only held their shape..

" Yes, I do believe you're right.. We are being watched.."


The Ancient One
Staff member
The imagination of a child is wondrous and without limits, it lacked the confinement of adult burdens, logic, and realism; and yet it had paled to the actual moment upon this occasion. An entire lifetime of being called a Prince without a perception of why, or proof of its standing. It rightfully reminded him of the brief moments he had spent in the audience of Yugoshi before the unfortunate fall of the Chonyosa, yet much more personal in that the world which was revealed within unfurling petals of the garden's most precious blossom was truly the result of his own mother. She dismissed the precautions of his father in her words, but Minjun didn't need the assurance of the justification. He replied quietly, "In all honesty, I am here for him as much as I am for myself. I believe his decision to finally give me your location was as much to complete my quest as it is for his own. The past has been his fuel. I believe it to be the motivation for his current successes and uncelebrated victories." He gave the slightest of smiles as he quietly reflected, "If I had but a single request of you, it would be to make those silent toasts in celebration of those victories have voice and life, to bring happiness to what has become the show behind a work of passion not only his but my own," Minjun's tone shifted softly as he spoke those words, the last thing he wanted was to force his objectives even if he refused to accept defeat in any realm of his life.

Perhaps the difficulty of his father was the least of what he would have to say. The confirmation of the origins of the people brought a quiet sigh and almost sorrowful eyes. War left scars upon even the most solid of men, regardless of the quality of their steel. Minjun knew he was going to be the bearer of news when his father had finally admitted her location. Suddenly he wished he had brought an errant officer to utter the unspeakable truth he was about to convey. "Mother, for now, here is the light which shall govern them, in your care; they are safe here from the unfortunate fate which has befallen so many of their kin," he said within the whisper of that reluctant sigh, "A war-ravaged the unvorsum, a terrible conflict waged by the greed of builders and misplace faith has nearly wiped it all and placed even those beyond the core of Norian kind on the verge of extinction. The cycle of ascending knowledge and technology reached a plateau upon which it forced even men who played the hands of god to fold their hands or give up their most precious of wealth. Trillions and trillions reaped within Morggho's rage and all was lost; Noria, Aetlantia, Paecifica, Lorenz, Vespa, all are rubble within the still burning tapestries of the spirals," his words were spoken in the testament of witness, not second hand, the etched militaristic stance at her side explained, his eyes had more than seen the front of the tide of death.

The introduction thankfully stirred Minjun from the dark, twisted mirrors of war memories. The way she introduced him was captured in words that would make any man have dreams of ascension. He gave an honorable nod, unbroken of his stance, holding gracefully the arm of one of his long-lost creators. "A pleasure to meet you, Naertho. I trust your endeavors are profitable," he said. He reflected in amusement of his mother's bitter digest. You cut a worm in half you get two worms, it's often important you leave nothing behind to promote any kind of growth. His thoughts were shared, the first movement of the establishment of a vesper with his mother. This other man appeared the entrepreneur and for Minjun there was a challenge to that, the entire Chaebol under his belt and still profitable even in the ashes of what was very much so an Armageddon. Rats in suits scurried at the sight of fire.

The moments progressed back to the importance of things, he and her and their sharing of words. When she asked of him, he took a healthy sip of his own cup and said, "They captured my father in the early days of the war; perhaps a purpose-driven event which brought him the knowledge to bring the victory which resulted. I've run Kiri Chaebol, our corporate colonies; a little of everything, I must admit. From mercenary ventures to cooperative front-line service. Even a little shipbuilding, thanks to the guidance of Tetsuya Eitan," he informed her, unsure of how much of himself to divulge in a simple conversation. "As the war progressed and things became more about survival, I designed our refuge away from the front and the sanctuary - much as this is for those in your care. When my father's unorthodox method brought victory, mind you, I doubt souls beyond ours even know that it was by his hands...." he paused, almost to ensure that she caught the message he aimed to deliver. He took another sip, savored the depth of the flavor, and then continued, "I've become rather involved with the recovery of certain powerful ancient artifacts from the graveyards of the war, and ensuring that the proper parties are reunited within the aftermath," he explained carefully, it would be up to her how far in depth he went. "I think I've exceeded my father's expectations; mostly I'm the face of our endeavors because of his continued desire to pull strings without exposure to the spotlight...even when it is deserved," he finished, figuring that would be the best place to break for interjection or question.

"This place is beyond explanation. It exists within the wombs of the void itself and I find myself curious how you made it possible? It even holds life within its cradle, in a web where all things should be devoured and digested eternally. I am as curious about you and your life as you are mine and perhaps this is the best place to start. Right where we stand," he added, still in awe of the haven which surrounded them within the insanity of dead suns and partially devoured moons.


Xytrinahfestival2.jpg carried with her a reputation so legendary that it was reaching mythological levels, and her images showed an extraordinary beauty that brought decidedly secular thoughts to the minds of young men. She was as godly as anything could possibly be within the diamond-like structures of the palace and in a voice that could only feel like sunlight. "It is stifling. I want to reach out to others, particularly the isolated souls in other reaches and even those who have lost their way, but they must learn not to fear the unknown. Fear brings bad judgement and incorrect hegemony- and then they fail to see the one they've truly offended can bring them to their knees, and shake the very spirals from their axis. Foolish people should never reign in powerful lofts" Xytrinah fixed Minjun with a steely glance, "And what is your opinion of the wars you have seen and the destruction you've witnessed?" Giving him a wonderful smile, "What is your opinion on the skies- the galactic seas you've travelled because you were not afraid to seek beyond things that reduce most to ruin? You must have, or you wouldn't be here." Never letting that gaze leave Minjun's presence as he spoke, it was hard to decipher

"Sometimes you have to hurt someone to make them understand how badly they're hurting themselves. You have to come to the rescue by being the villain, not just for them but for everyone they touch, lest they lose themselves in that same hellish fire. So there is punishment, which is the wrong word for the right thing, something that marks them for life, brings them under control, makes them a productive part of society. Benediction." The silk of her robe hissed softly while they walked, the smile never leaving rubescent apertures, a portrait of contentment even if darker things churned beneath the surface- it didn't leave and even shifted wider to the dimples of her cheeks listening to the vespers they shared. Responding through the tapestries, interweaving in delicate threads. ||Naethro, I wanted to bring him into our fold, for if I hadn't, he would have railed and thrashed until he shook himself to pieces, not quietly either, and I'd have had no choice but to put him out of his misery. He was a known person to the Federation and played as a spokesperson to me, when I wasn't as.... plenipotentiary.||

Within that smile, lips red as glittering ruby's, and the talons of the winds carrying the celebrations catching in long tresses black as nights coal, more than anything, within her features, there was a streak of wild quirkiness that made her dazzlingly attractive; like being cradled in the arms of the cosmos; the moon who fell in love with the night and shared all that omnipotent light to the worlds below. "Mankind has taken to the stars and destruction has followed in its wake. Older powers patrol the lifeless expanses and have leaked into the galaxies beyond, and they don’t care about life, or the lives of civilizations, or their worlds. However, that just exhibits their lack of understanding the actual mechanics of existence. If everything is gone, what is left? Even the all-consuming will starve and perish, when all life and light is extinguished, they'll consume themselves in the end." Speech drifted to quieter tones, those present needn't know the nature of their conversation. But, with the announcement of Minjun's title within the sibilant and melodic tongue of her origins, the quiet murmur of uncomfortable conversation dropped nearly to an utter silence- only interrupted by the festival of music and commemorations. Xytrinah simply listened to her son.

"These are not the hands of a killer, but this is the face of one. I have seen ceaseless lives ended at the hands of enraged cattle, good people’s shells stripped apart by inelegant tools of destruction. I have in turn killed this cattle, throwing their lifeless husks to the hungry void. I have fought enemies sheltered by walls they thought would keep them safe. I have imagined their screams in my mind. My wrath danced across their unshielded armor-stripped hulls exposing empty interiors to space and I smiled as they died. I have not been on the receiving end of such things- until the Unmei and the 'First Umarian War', when I was..." Head tilting slightly to the right, considering the phrase that was about to escape, "...with your father... albeit the objective I had. Despite, that allegiance avowed. I have the awarded comfort now to say, it wasn't fabricated, not entirely." 'With' came with a quizzical tone, as if not fully disassociating herself fully.... leading him back outside, passing the iridescent midnight blue and obsidian arched structures with a strange illuminous cobalt crepuscular scintillation. The smile slowly fading, facial features hardening and becoming more schooled and emotionless, just simply to detach herself from the despondency of it, in truth, Xytrinah would happily punch the next being in the jaw just for having to talk about it, but she warranted Minjun deserved some explanation.

"Koshiro's existence always stayed in my heart. No matter what happened and what became of it. Our changed worlds. My changed world... he's the one who brought me there. I still see him sometimes when I close my eyes." Shoulders shifting upwards, graceful in its fluid motion into a soft shrug, "When victory is nothing but ash in the mouth; the reason becomes bitter. To rise from the ashes only to have them rain on you from above." Lifting the glass to savour the ichors of Zhdozqiach, its odoriferous bouquet drifting to tantalize the senses; almost euphorically: enjoying the company and the rhapsodic reverberations echoing throughout Cyotha-Ysha and its Imperial Palace. Continuing onwards, the vestibule widening into a larger one with domes on one side, showing the dark stars beyond. Slowing her steps, “When you can share the lessons you learnt through tears and heartache, and others find life in it, they are better off for it, then beauty has come out of those ashes.” Another followed at a distance carrying a fresh bottle of Zhdozqiach. Merely he just to pour more of the wine and not interrupt in conversation, maintaining that respectable distance at all times, but within his other gloved hand something was carried that looked to be some kind of technology.

"The hardest part in anyone's life isn't the crises they encounter, and if someone tries to tell you different, it says more about their lack of spine than it does about whatever problems they've had. Anyone can have a problem, or make mistakes, or suffer a goddamn breakdown. The question isn't what happened to you or what scars life inconsiderately raked over your hide - it's what you did after. How you got up again. Koshiro and Tetsuya know this better than anybody." Stiletto heel strikes echoed through the winding halls of the northern wing, there was a reason this particular path was chosen, it had fewer Officials and Imperials but it was the perfect advantage to show him the palace, and the multiple cities below, but also the terrain on the outer fringed horizon and the sonat luminaries which hung over endless oceans of the void. Changing the course of the conversation, directing the servant to attend, "Volyan", a tall, brisk man with noticeable strange triangular features who carried with him a sense of purpose so potent it seemed barely containable by his personality. He gave the impression that he cheerfully walked this path in servitude and would continue to do so even if it led him through a brick wall. He held out what looked to be a datapad but he did not speak.

"Press your thumb on the pad and slide your IDImplant over the dotted line. It's easier to have knowledge at your fingertips. You have the clearance you need, access you need, should any knowledge here bring you closer to your search" Knowing fully well Minjun didn't such devices, it was the invitation that he was free to seek what answers he wanted for himself. Waving Volyan off but not before filling their glasses. Xytrinah took a breath, searching for another line of thought. One to match the demurral. "You know you have to leave when you start to fail, little by little. The final break that pushes you out - which will always be terrible, and far more costly to other people than it was to you . It's never some single event, some great explosion that is isolated from everything else. Not a single grand failure but a cascade of smaller ones that you just can't grasp, no more than sand falling through your hands." She was no stranger to being apathetic. cold to the existence of other beings- and basically didn't care if they existed or didn't. She had ascended and evolved as all things should when they've undergone such rapid but necessary changes- hopefully making her point clear enough.

"Errors. They add up and they keep adding up in a monstrous framework of dangerous failure until finally, by some banal coincidence, something finally tips the whole thing over. And people get hurt. All those little mistakes, the ones you wouldn't have made if you weren't so cold, and you want to say: It wasn't me. This is not how I live my life. This terrible wreckage, this is not the work of a woman like me. But you only think like that after the fact. You are advised, by those few who are still alive, to ‘let go of the past.’ Let go of the past and ‘live in the now.’ Never mind that my past includes millenniums of not fucking up, before everything started to slide. If only all others could come to such resolution, with themselves and their peoples. And 'change' with the times." Each reply was prompt, and sincerely articulated, at the end only just to imbibe, and sweeten the palate to hopefully more cheerful colloquy, yet smiling almost devilishly, "Of course I am sure some won't like my change of disposition, but as previously stated earlier this evening... not many know me at all. But I know what I have been capable of in warfare as the antagonist, I already know what I am capable of being its opposite. A balance is established No matter how unpredictable I may be."

The composed expression that covered her face was clearly visible, her lips were a gentle line that was neither too harsh, nor too soft and by the way her body stood it was quite obvious that every word was guileless. Arm around Mingun's, gloved fingers twitched ever so slightly, but only the very keen of touch or eye would catch the movement. Listening to everything so openly divulged about the tribulations they've gone through, and what he has been driven towards. "They captured my father in the early days of the war" instigated the more 'darkening' of her natures and the atmosphere surrounding the Cyotha-Ysha Palace.... "Whom....captured Koshiro?", for the first time during the whole encounter Xytrinah's chest rose and fell with a far more notable sway, even her perfectly held brows shifted, pinching inwards to form an eclipsed frown, the words echoed and ached in her heart as if it had been branded there. "It is part of a good man to do great deeds, though he risk everything remains selflessly silent in the glory of it." Still keeping her voice soft and discreet, and although Xytrinah did not physically show it, apart from the slight tenderness reflected in her face, she felt the heaviness upon her sons mind and shoulders. It took all of her self control, and even a painful bite to the tender flesh on the inside of her cheek to remain at that unusual calmness even if the elements told of other ire's.

"You will never understand the unimaginable pride that it gives me to hear of your accomplishments. The guidance in your creations and endeavours by those whom have inspired you, I owe my sincere gratitude towards. It makes me happy to hear Tetsuya has had a hand in your academics. I hope he has kept well," It was more of a statement than a question; perhaps it was something else that crept into those words. Again, Xytrinah chose to continue, "You will have to tell me more of these relics you seek perhaps I can be of some assistance." There was simply no way to describe the geniality at the news that old friends were thriving and doing so well. More so, that old friends were such good rulers—for their triumphs were uniquely the triumphs of the people over whom they ruled, even if they had their dark hours. conflicts and struggles. Arriving shortly at the more private sector of the palace, finally letting her arm fall away from Minjun's. In sauntered hypnotic grace, crossing the wide and lavish walkway toward the other side of the columns. In this area, was a comfortable sitting area, pellucid elegant wing chairs with majestic metallurgic fabric (in midnight blue of course) were set here around a low black obsidian table. All around them were lavish night-blooming gardens, phosphorescent topiary surrounding fountains and lavish twisted, nightmarish... yet oddly beautiful statues made luminous not only by the night-blooming gardens but also the braziers afire with a augural violet flame.

Stygian eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation, head tilting to the side allowing for cascade of dark hair to fall over her right shoulder and land in a puddle of waves within her lap whilst seating herself elegantly upon one of the chairs, crossing slender legs, one knee over the other, and a fresh smile was established upon her lips. . "Do you mean the U'rsthollosha Spiral itself or K'ctha-Zoth?" She retorted, choosing to decide the somewhat the lesser complex equation. "K'ctha-Zoth formerly known as Noctae, is an nascent behemoth, a titan, a thaumaturgic living entity of sorts...continually expanding, absorbing the societies and cities of other worlds it crosses. When I say I bled for the creation of this it wasn't a metaphor." Attention never leaving his face, studying how the shadows favored his features, pooling in his eyes and revealing to her mind the perplexities of a very busy intellect. "This world has a soul Minjun, if you listen closely you can hear it beneath the buildings, the fortifications and the many miles beneath its protective shielding.... of course this wouldn't be possible without my forced hand. My family... and I very loosely called them this, pooled their entire energy to create the Old Ones, then charged them to find and corrupt nascent titans throughout the Great Dark. But, not knowing which planets contained these beings they hurled their creations out into the cosmos in the hopes that some would smash into a world which one slumbered. It was never about extinguishing life, or consuming all life, typically we saw all life forms as rather platitudinous. It was all about power, and only that. We have no need of life. But I think, these people, these beings are like little fires that need to remain alight..."

Beholding an expression that could not be defined, it only defined those features while soft held a sort of sharpness that caused a smile to flatter them just as much as stoic seriousness. Should Minjun look for any length at Xytrinah's eyes, he would see the tragic irony that were her irises through the typical impenetrable darkness. They were two orbs forever captured in that glorious moment when the stars dance around nebulas, a dark silhouette against other luminous matter. Wholly unique and exotic, to the likes none had seen before, spiralling, slow and warn lightning streaks that met at her pupils. There was a subtle shimmering glow to them, an adularescence exhalation-- something wholly unnatural, even more so than the depths of blackness that seemed to engulf all within oblivion, regardless of their magnificence. Holding his gaze for a tense moment; head slightly tilted back to better meet his eyes dead on.

There was something unexplainably wonderful of having ones hard work looked upon and marveled at. It gave Xytrinah delight and purpose, and those sentiments were immediately cast upon those captivating features. "I happened to discover this one. As cliché as this may sound, it's possible because I made it so. It's who I am. Then further construction capitalizing what I had in the Umarian Astral Raquamothla, including megacorporation's. Subsequently then utilizing new terraforming platforms, insulation technology, magnetosphere generators, a consequence to an external factor- a living material it can grow and be cultivated. Even the most desolate world can hide something in a deep pocket beneath its surface, a tiny sliver of what lived before. This biome thrives where it is, but give it a better environment to flock to, this is the direct result, it will morph, consume and rebuild. Its an anomaly, just as I am, and just as you are, I suppose." Hoping she divulged enough information without getting too involved in the disclosure of the entity within the nexus of the world or her own origins. Comfortable enough that they were well enough away from prying eyes, and this part of the palace was only accessible to her.

There was definitely no lack of beauty upon this world, although it was an 'alien' kind of beauty for that matter. Xytrinah played the part of a discreet lady with such perfection that even those deadly fangs that sometimes became visible when vocalizing certain words- could be misconstrued as nothing more than seductive trinkets. And certainly she did not mind being obliging as long as it suited her—but woe to any whom thought her powerless. Hers was a dangerous power and an even more abysmal hunger. Feasibly Minjun may have found to some relief, that her gaze had not followed him should he chose to seat himself or find something of interest to make their meeting less ceremonial. Rather, she looked into the violet vapor-esque flames seemed to be lost in thought—head tilted ever so slightly, inclined as if it were whispering something only she could hear. It warmed her heart that she had now met a son she never knew, except for 'dreams', if they could have been called that. When next she spoke it was direct, focused in a way that even her eyes bore the same concentration within the solferino gyrating aureole's of her eyes. "What would you have me do, Minjun?" Leaning forward and resting the elbow that was still holding the glass of wine which hadn't graced her lips for quite a considerable length of time, upon the apex of her knee hidden beneath silk and lace. "If you knew your fate, would you try to change it?"

Lower Urasaki
Sector Xianqiu.festival3.jpg

Elsewhere, the Vesper Unit of Desmodius bat-like drone had located the one they were sent to inquest. instantly the two drones behind the leader began screening for the information they had been sent to investigate, identity signatures that should have been taken when docking at any of the space-docks or stations upon entering the spiral. Whatever ID used including photographic evidence, sent with the file, along with any other discrepancies or suspicions of identity or description. Timestamped. Also the scans would detect 'species' and also replay the intel in two separate files for each of the men. The bodies were of no importance- they would be taken care of and the families adequately reimbursed the loss, financially. Should they however demand justice, it would be for them to serve it. 'Instantly' this data was recorded and sent directly to Empress Xytrinah Equinius via the Cnignnix Citadel.

The leader drone, larger than the others- emanating a robotic filter and being punctuated with small chirps, clicks, and whirs in a similar fashion. With an artificial sibilation yet intelligent tone through fang-like comms; " Scanning signatures and identifications. Hostility of any kind is not recommended. In the name of our Empress, Xytrinah Equinius" Two glowing crimson eyes, equilateral diamond split down the middle only interrupted by a triangular pupil in the centre. None of the drones were visibly in combat-mode, their subjective was simple: data and ID, other Vesper drones already surrounding the location and the Xianqiu sector.

||[Report #1: Interrogator: DV-VPL C6-C2
To: Empress Xytrinah Equinius
Subject: Target Data:

Targets located. All specific intel attached to this file are the encrypted data acquired.
Awaiting further instruction.] ||

In the main Xianqiu square. Watching all, wandering or standing post among and alongside the throng of the crowds, were the arachnidan-like patrolmen of Lower Urasaki, various military arms and the occasional squad of the Empress's own Imperial Guards, these last resplendent in black-chased combat armor. Their eyes had caught the quick flight of the Vesper Unit- however their task was maintain control of the ground situation in event of an outside attack, or the crowds breaking out in the exuberance and adrenalin of the festivities. Anything was possible, but nothing would come of it not without consequences.
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Radu the Accursed

New Member
Gavony.. Human Settlement..

The young villager was full of hate and rage and it was clearly defined within the parameters of his eyes. It was tears of anger that wet his cheeks, the snarl that had peeled back his lips from clenched teeth. He felt powerful with muscles rippling with confidence. All he needed was to draw blood and they would leave them be. The sound of his beating heart was deafening within his own ears.

He closed the space between him and the Dragon, as he pulled his arms toward his right side and then foward with a solid diagonal chop. But it was in the moment of his swing that his eyes registered what his brain had yet to comprehend. The Dragon had been there one moment and then as he swung the blade, he had seemed to vanish right before his eyes.

Vlad had watched the boy charge. From the fire in his eyes, to the screaming of his blood as it ran hot through his veins. But yet as the boy drew close, in Vlad's own eyes, the boy was mired in a state of slow motion. Even as the young warrior raised his sword and brought it down to strike, it would have been as if he just disappeared. He had lifetimes to hone and to master his Wamphyri abilities. All the unique and wonderful powers associated with becoming an ageless tyrant.

And as the sword came down the expression upon the villager's face seemed to melt away into absolute terror. For a split second the blade had stopped its downward arc, hanging in mid-air as the young warrior's eyes adjusted to the information they were receiving and the glassy look of pain flashing through his eyes as strong pliant fingers closed around his right wrist, gripping with a bone-shattering grasp.

Vlad's left hand settled upon the boy's shaved head.. the tip of his nails raked and caught upon the smooth skin. The boy found his head being violently tipped to his left, that last moment where everything seemed to flash before his very eyes.. all that he dreamt of and imagined was about to never be, as he watched the mouth of the Dragon open impossibly wide. His jaws seeming to stretch or unhinge like that of a serpent. The wicked maw of dagger-esque teeth, and a quick fleeting ounce of pain.


Vlad bit through flesh and muscle.. a geyser of blood was accompanied by the wailing cries that arose from the captured villagers at the sight of their warrior.. his head barely attached to his neck by tattered remnants of flesh and ruined bone. The Lord of the Wamphyri released him, watched as he fell lifeless at his feet.

" Un efort nobil .. Totuși zadarnic .."

Back at the Celebration..

Indeed, they did seem to have company. Several in fact. Machines that had been built to look like age-old familiars of the Wamphyri Race. Mircea was the first to react, turning about and moving off toward his younger sibling's right side. " Do you know this Empress Xytrinah Equinius? Is that the one you came here looking for, if so she sounds pretty pissed?"

Radu regarded his older brother with a slow curling of his lips into a sort of half-assed smirk. Bemused by the digital screech of the bat-like drone. Though he couldn't be sure the name of this Empress was one of her aliases or not, much time had passed between his departure from Naethryn until his recent resurrection at the behest of the Order of the Black Angel.. by the way of gratitude for the destruction of The Nameless One.

But yet he still felt as if something else, something largely unseen and unknown was still playing the part of the puppet master and pulling upon distant strings toward an yet unknown game that has yet to be played. His eyes held fast against the lead drone, making no sudden gestures as the mechanical entity scanned his features. His mental abilities might work well against sentient beings, however, wasted they might be against an artificial intelligence.

" I am unaware of all her names and titles.. more than a few centuries have past us by.." he retorted to Mircea's comment. Yet it might be she could be more than a little pissed that he had waited until now to make his presence known. Though it had taken quite some time to get to where he was now. The time and effort getting used to his body provided by the Order. Relearning how to use his abilities to the best of his knowledge. It had taken time to translate the tomes of the Black Angel's library of the Dark and Malevolent magicks they had collected.

There came a rising hiss in the back of his mind, the reminding voice of his inner self. The essence of his core. The parasite stirred within its constant swirling cocoon of black shifting metal. He felt it through his veins, through his blood. Perhaps this Empress was not the same as the one he sought.. if so then she would be expecting nothing less than what he was born to be.. a plague upon the worlds. A monster that fed off the blood of others.. a creature beyond Death itself.

His right hand made a liquid mercurial movement, spinning the sword around in a double rotation and then allowed the hilt to slip from his grasp. It hung in mid-air before the tip found purchase, stabbed into the floorboards beneath his feet. He raised his arms and placed his hands atop his head. " Mircea .. creează o ceață .. Îi voi ține concentrat asupra mea .." he spoke soundly as he positioned himself directly in front of the drone's view.

" Cum doriți.." Mircea said with a nod. His eyes closed for a moment and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs. He held it for a moment as Radu bought a few seconds as he seemed to put himself directly into the line of fire. He reached deep into his mind, into his darker more monstrous self, tapping into those traits gifted to him by the parasitic leech that inhabited his body.. their minds becoming one and he released his breath with a chest heaving exhale, and as his breath passed over his lips it was tangible, a mist that seemed to ebb from his very presence, as it creeped from the pores of his pseudo metamorphic flesh.

Radu continued to move forward with his hands raised. His gaze sizing up the drones. His mind making the necessary calculations on the amount of time it would take and the required speed he would have to increase his body to in order for him to take them out with precision skill. " Tell your Empress we have no quarrel with her.. just let us be and there will be no further issues.. Hinder our efforts and this city will know the power of the Wamphyriiiiiiiii.."
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