Flame and ashes. Nealaphh rose from its...his? His position on the ground next to Red Hood, the human Prime he had been fused with just a few minutes ago. Nealaphh, still clutching the Chidori Blade, glanced around at the flickering devastation in every direction before tossing the black blade at Red Hood's feet.

Take it. It is of more use to you.

Red looked down at the jagged sword then back up at Nealaphh, who was already walking away.

"Wait...are you serious? What about what we're doing next?" Jason half-shouted as Nealaphh stumbled across the smoldering swath of gravel that had once been a bustling village.

Do what you want, Jason.

Nealaphh approached the decrepit ruins of what used to be...some kind of structure. With weak inclinations of his head, Nealaphh began to pluck the large slabs of obsidian and granite out of the dust and cobble them back into some sort of coherent structure. There was only one thing to do. He needed to help the Gorons rebuild their village, using every ounce of Omnilium he had been storing to build the Institute headquarters. He didn't even know where any of the other Primes were. Okor was, at this point, likely still drifting around the Astral realm, and Colonel was no where to be seen in the aftermath of the battle. Did he even have a real Institute? How accurate had Darunia been when he chided Nealaphh on his joke of an organization.

A joke.

A fucking.

Joke.

Nealaphh clutched its smooth head and drove it into the side of the building it had just been reconstructing. A shrill, grinding shriek echoed across the psychic medium as the god-mind struggled to control the rampant cognition ricocheting around its damn consciousness. There was so much...there were too many things. Too many gods damned things that it couldn't let himself think about.

Planets folding in on themselves.

Stop.

Scything its way through flocks of angelic protectors.

Stop it.

Driving a sharp, crystal spike through the forehead of Kuolema, in front of her own followers.

Stop it now!

Stop!

Nealaphh flattened the hovel it had been reconstructing with the fling of hand, sending the rubble flying in all directions. All the painful memories of its inhuman transgressions forced Nealaphh to his knees, sinking into the whipping dust and rocking slowly side to side. The green lights that represented eyes on its face flickered on and off, like a faulty neon sign as the memories and emotions screamed at each other. It wasn't right. A God-Mind was a master of their own cognition, not a slave to errant...

...errant...

All of the pain. And he hadn't even cared. Who would know? Who would need to know? What people didn't know would never hurt them; those with the information were the ones in the position of power.

Oh but what a fool it had been. The truth was not what ruined the resolve of Titans, it was the transgressions that doomed them in the first place. The damage had already been done.

STOP IT.

Nealaphh wanted to rage. It wanted to destroy, do anything to release the emotions inside of it. But the destruction had already been wrought, already out of its own hands, if however vicariously. Nealaphh could feel eyes upon it. The eyes of the others. Demetri. Miranda. Zack Fair and Gildarts watching from a ridge overhead. What would they think, seeing Nealaphh like this? These were not the mannerisms of a god, cradling itself in the black, ashen filth of a manufactured volcano. Another psychic scream. Nealaphh threw its head back and tried to shout out for real, to have a real voice. Pain tore at the sides of its mouth, and telekinetic panic whipped the winds of the decimated plain into frenzy, stoking the fires of Volvagia back into malevolent reverie.

Cracks began to appear at the edges of its face, splintering and stretching open as a haggard, broken glass maw rent itself apart on Nealaphh's otherwise smooth visage. For the first time in the Omniverse, Nealaphh had a voice, whose first act was to unleash a scream so deep and pain-wracked that all those who heard it would freeze in their tracks. The pain inside was too much to hold inside any longer. Crystalline fingers drifted to its left shoulder, and with a rending crack, the god-mind? ripped its own onyx arm out of its socket. Glittering ferrous blood gushed from the stump as the screaming continued.

A vision of a thousand jackal humanoids staring up at it in horror as it descended gleefully. Their pain had been delicious, but eons later, left only a sour taste that consumed Nealaphh's every thought.

Fondling and crawling over the hapless form of Nixilea, its ciliac feelers infiltrating her very flesh and tattooing the sigils of the enigma onto her craving skin. Just another pawn for The Master. Hatred. So very much hatred.

Dimly it was aware of someone telling him to stop, someone screaming for Nealaphh to calm down even as the psychic wind in the clearing roared faster and faster. A gloved hand tried to restrain the god-mind? from hurting itself further. The intruding appendage was summarily snapped with a mental wrenching and the intruder into Nealaphh's vortex of torment was flung away.

Dimly it was aware of pulling the second of its banishment circles out of its Omnilium reserves and holding it high against the sanguine-bruised sky. Someone screamed at it to stop. Too late. Nealaphh tore the purple glyph open and let the malicious magic pour over its tormented form. The world swirled and pitched at an angle. Butterflies swirled in its vision as the Ashen Steppes seemed to be sucked out of its own head. Nealaphh could feel itself being pulled in a direction. Not down, but out. Out into the place it deserved to be.

LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

...and then the shadow was gone.

Quote:Nealaphh gave the Chidori Blade to Red Hood.
Nealaphh committed Suicide and Banished itself to the Underverse.

I'm hoping most people here, in some capacity, read for fun. I do, and sometimes I wish I read more than I do (probably about an hour a day, at least 1/2 an hour). However, when it comes to the Omniverse, where we come to write ourselves and hopefully have other people enjoy our prose, there are things that make writing more enjoyable to read. 

It could be simple things like word count or paragraph spacing. Maybe certain phrasing grabs your attention and makes you want to read more. Action scenes might press you on, or the introspective posts where a character reviews their lives. Hell, it might even be a spiffy title.

So, what works for you? What makes you want to read other people's work here? Have a good think, because if you can think of one thing that gets your attention, then someone else might be able to apply that to their writing, and then everyone wins!  :frogc00l:

As the golden knight, the orc, and the child passed through the portal into Camelot, Tarius had a disturbing thought; the three of them were all new primes, and anyone who glimpsed upon them would have only their imaginations to determine their intentions. It would make for an awkward situation if for some reason they were seen as a threat, a situation that Tarius would rather avoid. He had noticed a few mounted people, but they all kept their distance from the group.

Rather than dwell on such negative thoughts, Tarius began to admire the new landscape that had met them. The bleak whiteness of the Nexus had been replaced by blue sky and green grass, and they found themselves travelling a worn down road that seemed to stretch on for as far as the eye could see.

After a while of travel, they came to a fork in the road. The main path continued on, while something that could barely be called a road veered off to the left towards what looked like a small village. Tarius thought that it might be a good idea to go to it, as it could give the group some valued information as to where exactly they were and what was going on. He said, "Let's visit that town, the people there might be able to tell us about the strange world we have been so nicely 'invited' to." Deimōs just shrugged and said, "Alright," while Nanako said, "I will go wherever you two go." The decision made, they started moving towards the village.

As they neared the village, it became obvious that something was not quite right. No one could be seen from the road into the town, and they found a hanging town sign suspended crookedly by only one of the two chains that were supposed to support it. It read, "Sanctuary -- Safest place around!"

"How safe can a place be if the sign is in this condition," Tarius questioned grimly. Deimōs looked around, a worried expression on his face. "Even for such a small town, it's too quiet. There should be people on the main street... We should go in and investigate," Deimōs suggested. "Agreed, though keep your guard up, we don't know what is going on here. And Nanako, stay in our sight at all times. It may be dangerous in there," Tarius said. Nanako only nodded in response while tightly gripping Deimōs' waist.

Once inside the village, things just went from bad to worse. Wagons and barrels were smashed, leaving only piles of wood. The buildings were in terrible condition with broken down doors and shattered windows, but the condition of the buildings paled in comparison to the blood. There was blood everywhere, and most of it was still wet, yet even more disturbing was the fact that there were no bodies to be seen. All of this had happened recently, and it seemed that whoever had done it was trying to clean up the mess they made.

The travelers silently dismounted and returned their steeds to Omnilium, as it was possible that those responsible for all the bloodshed could still be there. Just as they finished, they heard voices nearing them from around the corner of a building. Deimōs grabbed Nanako and the three ducked into the building as quickly as they could while still remaining silent. As the people passed, the three were able to hear their conversation. 

"Why do the six of us have to stay here and clean up the remnants of these fucking savages? They're not even human! No one gives a damn what happens to them," one voice complained. "Just shut the hell up and do as you're told," the other commanded.

As the voices faded away, the three left the house that had hid them. As soon as they stepped out, a startled shout was heard. There was another man that they hadn't heard, and that man had noticed them. "GUYS! COME QUICK, WE MISSED SOME, AND THIS ONE HAS A CHILD! I NEED HELP," he shouted. 

The chance to silently figure out what happened was gone. The three would have to stand and fight as they quickly became surrounded by six angry men.

June may have come and gone, but we still have some unfinished business to attend to. Yes, it's time to determine the winners of yet another edition of the Monthly Accolades! 

For those of you who are unaware, the Accolades involve nominating (and later, voting for) those who have outdone themselves in a particular area each month. For variety's sake, the categories for each month may be different.

You have until July 7th to nominate your choices. After that, we will proceed to the voting phase where members will vote among the two individuals with the most nominations for each category. An exception to this is if someone manages to get 5+ more nominations than the runner-up, in which case that person becomes the winner by default.

If you wish to participate, think of who stood out the most in a particular category this month and post your choice, along with a 2-3 sentence long explanation, in this thread. You are not barred from nominating your own characters/threads, nor do you have to fill out all the categories.

The winners will become this month's "Community Stars" and will receive a user title in recognition of their achievement (which can be activated by going into the User CP and changing your Display Group).

And now, this month's categories are:

‘Best’ Character – Which character has you engaged the most?

‘Best’ Writer – Which writer wowed you the most?

Most Helpful – A staffer or a member who gave you amazing feedback on a story or was simply there to help you sort out some of your problems.

Rising Star – Which up-and-coming member stands at the crème of the crop? (must have joined within the last month and a half or have less than 8000 OM)

'Best' Story – What story did you find most riveting/entertaining? 

'Best' Post About...Nothing – As Seinfeld had taught us, fiction doesn't always have to be about something. If executed well, even scenes where characters merely go about their daily lives or discuss trivialities can be entertaining. What was the best post you've read that had little to nothing to do with the overarching plot?

'Best' NPC – What non-player character (can be a site, personal, or story NPC) entertained you the most (for whatever reason). Please note who the 'owner' of said NPC is, just in case I am not familiar with them.

Purple Ribbon - Consider this a bonus category for nominating someone who, while they may not be the best and have all the twitter followers, you believe deserves to be recognized for what they bring the the Omniverse. (The winner must be a DIFFERENT person than last month's winner; last month's winner was Red-Hood)

You like having more people to play with, right? That was a rhetorical question, because having more people to write with is awesome. Do you also like OM? If the answer is 'yes', which OBVIOUSLY it is, then please vote for us on the following sites!

RPGfix (every 12 hours. If you register, your votes count as x2. Worth the couple of minutes to make an account if you're going to be voting every day)
Top RP Sites (Daily)

When you vote, please post here with your total vote count for this month. So "Voted: 1", "Voted: 3" or whatever. Just keep track of 'em. For our counting purposes, clicking vote on both sites, or on RPGfix if only that is available, counts as 1 vote. If you post less than twelve hours since your last post, we won't count it. This means you can get up to two vote counts a day if you vote exactly every twelve hours. Simple? SIMPLE.

At the end of the month, if you posted ...

7-13 times: You get 100 OM.
14-23 times: You get 200 OM.
24+ times: You get 300 OM.
Every day: You get 300 OM, and a hug from me for being so damn diligent.

If you have an alternate character and wish to claim your reward on that account as opposed to your main one, please let us know in the topic before the month ends. If you don't, we'll assume you want the OM on the account you posted with.

We're going to trust in this that people actually click the links and don't just reply. I mean it only takes a few seconds to click these links anyway, but if there's a discrepancy between the posts here and the number of votes, and people really want to try and scam their way to a few hundred extra OM without voting, then we'll just remove this. Capiche?

Thanks for voting everyone! If you have time, please also leave a vote and review for us on Top RPG sites (once only).

Mechanical whirrs and the sound of power being restored, filled the black void. The metal plates of the giant machine began to shift and realign, the dark metal locking together with unerring accuracy. Deep channels in the exterior began to light up with a blue glow, and two large plates at the machines front slid away, revealing a red glow before moving back into proper position. It's white oculus sensors sprang to life, trying to find something, anything to focus on. Ascension felt... Different. More self-aware. Almost...organic. It felt the core of its body sending waves through its body, almost like a heartbeat. It shifted its legs, and tried to start moving forward but found it was not capable of doing so. It's photoreceptors registered something approaching, and it turned its attention to the entity currently striding towards the large machine.

Quote:"My name is Omni..."

Quote:"This is not the world you know..."

Waves reflect the passings of life. The swelling momentum carrying the hapless wanderer hither and yonder on flights of nameless fancy. Only to be crashed upon unknown shores with resounding and unequivocal finality.
 
The Sage raced across the ocean with a renewed sense of progress. For the first time in the short while he had found himself in this uncanny world, he was achieving a goal, rather than simply reacting to whatever new bizarrity the Verse felt compelled to saddle him with next. He checked the crude map he had been given by the old Bloodlance, Issac Carter. Checking the sun to reorient himself, he eased off the motor. The speedboat he had been given by Noodle slowed down and began to rock as the waves reasserted their dominance over the motion of the craft. Carter had explained that the concept of North was now more-or-less invented, since compasses and the like did not have much use. Still, direction could be established by convention alone, and so the Sun and stars marked the way for any naval exploration.
 
He had drifted slightly farther west than he wanted, the Sage decided after a moment. He was hugging close to islands, hoping from shoreline to shoreline in short stretches. Noodle had explained how the boat was not built to handle any sorts of extreme conditions, and the Sage was unfamiliar with the vehicle enough that he would be helpless to repair it should it become damaged.
 
He was calling in a lot of favors he hadn’t earned yet, he mused. Dasha had explained numerous of the Omniverse’s oddities to him, as well as sheltering him from the Imperial forces of Costa del Sol. Noodle had helped immensely in the recovery of his bullet wound, which seemed to be on the mend with altogether surprising speed, and had summoned this much more manageable vehicle for his trip. Issac Carter had taught him the islands and routes of the Vasty Deep, without which he would not have his present course.
 
One day he would need to repay all these debts. But first he would need to gain a position where he had something to offer in return. A creditor could be stretched with the right tongue, but eventually he would need something to show for his efforts.
 
After realigning his course, he set off again, bearing towards Blue Flame Island with all speed. Carter was right, he would not be able to pilot this craft through either a blockade or a smugglers’ route. He needed a professional, and Bilgewater was famous (infamous?) for having the best according to Carter. He was only about a day’s journey away at this point, and the weather had proved far more cooperative than he had previously encountered. It seemed likely that he would arrive at Blue Flame Island without issue.
 
Or not… he thought, as the speedboat refused to re-start. He couldn’t fathom what could be wrong with the machine, but then, he hadn’t learned how it worked beyond simply the piloting mechanisms, so attempting to repair the device would be next to impossible. The Sage smacked his dueling cane on the bow of the speedboat in frustration. Nothing would ever go swiftly anymore. This world seemed determined to throw obstacles into his path at every turn. Like an amused child placing rocks before a burdened ant. He thought bitterly, again the grinning face flashed in his memory. Precisely that.
 
After a moment’s deliberation, he began to summon an oar. Abandoning the boat would be a rash decision, perhaps it simply needed a rest, then it would start working again. It reminded him vaguely of the steam-powered devices some of the more eccentric scholars had been experimenting with back home. Perhaps the machine had simply gotten clogged by something?
 
Newly-fashioned oar in hand, the Sage attempted to paddle his way towards the nearest island. It was small, a clump of trees, boasting one of the thinnest stretches of beach that the Sage had seen. He hoped he wouldn’t have to spend very long there. The Speedboat beached, and the Sage hopped off into the surf. His nose wrinkled as the ocean waves rushed in to fill his boots, but began dragging the boat further ashore to make sure it didn’t get carried off. The boat was heavier than he would have guessed, and after a few feet, he could neither drag the boat further ashore, nor push it back into the deeper water. He would have to wait for the tides to rise, that would be annoying.
 
Boots squelching, the Sage made his way onto the island, deciding to give it a cursory glance before examining the boat. He didn’t want any unnecessary surprises, and deserted islands were notorious for not actually being deserted. This one seemed to actually live up to his namesake however, as nothing stirred in the copse of palm trees but a few errant birds resting their wings before continuing on their journey. The Sage looked up at them from the shade of the copse. You have no idea how good you have it, my winged friends. You have no need of beast, boat or road to get you to your destination, simply an open and inviting sky. Turning his attention back to his search, the Sage traversed the rest of the island. Satisfied that this place was indeed uninhabited, the Sage returned to the shore where he had first arrived, only to find his boat was being inspected by two figures of a very aquatic persuasion.
 
The Sage dropped down to a crouch, watching from the underbrush of the island, as the two silver-scaled fish-men examined his boat. He had been gone all of what, fifteen minutes exploring the island, and his vessel had already been found by potentially dangerous individuals. The smaller of the two beings looked relatively unthreatening, but the larger one had a well-made spear that seemed to have been fashioned out of some sort of coral. The Sage cursed as the smaller fish-man pointed to his tracks, heading up the beach and into the copse of the island’s center. The Taller fish-man turned to look, his dorsal tail-head flapping behind him. They conversed briefly but the Sage was too far away to make out their words. The larger of the two fish-man began making his way up the beach, following the tracks the Sage had made moments before, while the smaller one continued to explore the ship, now climbing into the cockpit to examine the controls.
 
The Sage waited, watching as the larger fish-man passed into the copse of brush and palm trees. Without knowing anything about these strange creatures, his best option was to wait, they might be dangerous, but they seemed curious and relaxed enough that he didn’t want to simply attack them without provocation. Instead he watched as the smaller fish-man poked around the speedboat, trying levers and buttons without response. The Sage couldn’t really mock the fish-man that much for it, however, as he himself hadn’t known what purpose the buttons served. The smaller fish-man coiled back in surprise when his experiments resulted in two black bars waving across the small window in the front of the boat. The creature certainly didn’t seem malicious or calculating enough to pose too large a threat to his own safety, although it was quite clear that the fish-headed being would be useless in terms of helping his problem with the boat.
 
The Sage almost made to leave his hiding place and approach, when he heard the faintest crunching of leaves from behind him. Turning his head almost imperceptibly to the side, he caught sight of the larger fish-man, stalking what appeared to be a hidden and oblivious person. The Sage waited until the fish-man was only a few feet away, remaining as purposefully unaware as he could. When his would-be ambusher was only a few feet away, the Sage spun, his dueling cane whipping around to catch the side of the coral spear and pin it down into the ground. The fish-man looked up in surprise as the Sage stood up. “Now, we have no need for that kind of behavior.” He said, locking eyes with the deep black pools of the fish-man, “though what happens next depends entirely on whether you can understand what I am saying right now.”
 
To his mild surprise, the fish-man straightened up and spoke in a surprisingly understandable voice, “Very well then, stranger, we shall settle this with words. I am Crota, a Zora of the place your people call Fishman Island.” He began walking out onto the beach, and the Sage followed, feeling confident that he was not in extreme danger with the two Zoras. “Why has one of Rapture ventured so far to the surface?” he asked, and the Sage detected the subtle distaste that Crota could not entirely cover. The Sage pondered what the Zora could have meant. The way he had inflected the word implied that Rapture was referring to something other than the general emotion, but the name was ambiguous enough that it could as easily be a place as a philosophy. Had Carter mentioned something about Rapture during his explanation?
 
The Sage shrugged, “I am afraid I am unfamiliar with the term you speak of. Though I would assure you that I am far more damp than rapt at this particular instance.” Crota may have smiled at this, but it was difficult for the Sage to tell.
 
The smaller Zora noticed their approach and moved to join their conversation. Crota gave the Sage an appraising look, “No. I can see by your garb that you are not one of Rapture. How did you come by this boat?” The Sage maintained the Zora’s gaze, his voice slightly even as he replied.
 
“It was a gift from a friend. Though it seems to have broken.” The Zora’s expression was unreadable, so the Sage moved over to the boat himself, and began to search for a possible cause of the issue. “If you have no further questions I must be off.” He called out to the Zoras.
 
I have more pressing matters than assuaging the curiosity of errant Aquans. He thought somewhat bitterly. Crota gave a short laugh, his voice containing the slightest hint of a burble. “And where will you go, man from the distance? Your boat lies on the shore, beached and broken. You have stranded yourself. Come, sit with my brother and I. Explain your story, and we may be moved to aid you.”
 
With that the two Zoras began moving up the beach, back towards the copse of trees in the island’s center. The Sage stood by the shoreline and the speedboat for a moment considering. It was true what the Zora said, he had no way of fixing the boat himself. He could see nothing wrong with the vessel, but it no longer functioned.
 
In his youth, the Sage had heard only stories of those that lived beneath the waves of his homeland. They were known to be devious, luring men to their death in the deceptive tides. The Sage had always attributed the stories to myth and legend over fact, but here in this place he was to be proven wrong yet again. There was no way of knowing the intention of the two Zoras, but the Sage was unlikely to escape them if he attempted to run. By the time he finished summoning a seaworthy vessel, they would clearly know what he was planning. He turned, and began to follow the two Zoras. He had, in truth, little choice in the matter.

Quote:1,939 words according to Wordcounter.net
1,939 total.

With a dramatic wheeze, Adam stumbled through the gate to the nexus from the green, nearly ending up face-first on the 'ground' again, just as with every other trip to this fucking place. "One day...I will get used to that. To the entire world turning into a kaleidoscope of pain and suffering and deciding balance and gravity are just nice things you don't get to have at this precise fraction of a second." He righted himself, leaning against his crutch, pulling his hood down from over his head. "I really hate portals. Just...the entire concept of them. Always have, since the game..."

Adam. Adam, you're talking to yourself again.

"WELL I DON'T HAVE A TRAVELING COMPANION AND I DISLIKE SILENCE OKAY." He threw his hands up in disgust, storming angrily off into the nexus toward the general direction of the fountain. "Blah...I gotta calm down. Decide where I'm gonna go." A flick of the wrist had his laptop sitting balanced precariously on his upturned palm. "...did I ever get that voice recognition whatchamacallit working on this damn thing?" He stared at the contraption for a moment, debating over it, before he heaved a disgruntled sigh and flipped over, hovering with his back to the ground and balanced the thing on his chest as he flipped it open, still lazily drifting more or less in the general direction of the fountain.

"Right, let's see here..." And then there was a furious clicking of keys as he went about his business, searching for more information on what sort of places the other verses were aside from Camelot and Coruscant. "Maybe there's something interesting out there I can point my directionless wandering toward..."

It really felt like it had been a long ass time since he'd done much of anything. Really, it was staggering the amount of things that he had not been doing. Just kind of...lazing around. For what really felt like months. Staring. At a whole lot of nothing. 

The recent messages -- or they felt recent, anyway -- from his mysterious, extremely unwanted benefactor, had certainly managed to rouse him from his mire of depressed self-hatred. But it had instilled something even worse in its place: the strong, overwhelming desire to do absolutely fucking nothing as long as possible. The more nothing he did, the longer he could stay calm and idle, and the longer he could stay safe and content.

....the only problem with all that, though, was that safe and content was fucking boring as shit.

"Yeah, I think I'm done with this..." Adam grumbled to himself, from where he lay face-down on his bed. "I just...I just gotta go. Somewhere. Do something. Fuckin' hell."

"I am very much glad to hear that you have decided to do as much, Adam."

The sudden voice that spoke up from across the room literally made the red clad timelad jump out of bed and nearly collide with the ceiling. He stared across the room, his eyesight bleary and unfocused, both from his long stupor and sleep, and his lack of glasses. "Who the fuck...?"

A faint snap which Adam recognized quite clearly as a book being closed abruptly, and then several quick, short strides across the room, and then his glasses were all but hurled into his face. "Really now. Hardly any way to act. Almost makes you seem like a coward."

His glasses went on, and the room came into focus. And standing there, a large book tucked under one arm and the same enigmatic, eerie half-smile as ever on his face, stood the Space player. What was his damn name? Erik or something? Something like that. "Jeeze. How'd you even get in here without me noticing, man?" Adam slowly floated back down to sit on the edge of his bed, looking very frazzled and already regretting his decision to move today.

"It was not difficult," Erik mused, strolling back across the room to take a seat in the chair that he had apparently omnilium'd into existence. "You were rather alarmingly inattentive. I feared I might have to actually accost you to get you up and about again." The book in his hands was laid aside and he steepled his fingers, leaning back in his chair. "...I suppose I still might, if you insist on taking very much longer on getting a move-on."

Adam just stared at him. ".....what. In the fuck. Are you talking about."

Erik just waved a hand at nothing and everything. "You're being dreadfully dull and uninteresting, Adam. Have to do something to keep the interest up, you know."

"Ease off the fourth wall there," Adam mumbled darkly.

"And so it falls to me to be the current deus ex machina to get you back on your feet and moving with your usual amusing antics." Erik clapped his hands once, and his eerie smile grew just a little wider, more genuine. And even more creepy. "Now then. Shall I have to resort to physical means to get you out of this house and back to your aimless wandering and shenanigan-finding?"

Adam was on his feet after only a few seconds of thought. "I think I just felt my life flash before my eyes when you said that." He held up a hand to forestall the inevitable comeback on that one. "Yes. Felt. I didn't see it. I felt it. Seeing it would imply I had enough time to process the ocular input for my brain to flip it back from upside down to rightside up and let me know I was actually seeing things. Feeling is a lot more instinctive and hard to miss."

"I'm not entirely certain that's how it works..." Erik just shrugged with clear amusement. "But you are free to think how you wish."

"So, yeah. I'm just gonna go now." The very grumpy little timelad shuffled across the room and out the door. He busied himself with finding his various implements of wandering — chief among which was his god tier hoodie, he couldn't go anywhere without that bloody fucking windsock — and came to a halt at the front door of his humble abode. ".....I just now realize I have no idea where to even go."

A sudden hand clamping down on his shoulder made Adam jump, and Erik's looming form over him didn't make it any better. "Who said you have to 'go' anywhere? Just aimlessly wander around, like you did when you arrived here." And then the door opened, rather on its own by the looks of it, and Adam was given a 'gentle' shove through it. "Off with you now. I'll look after your home while you're away."

The former time god spun about to make some smart comment to that, but was met only with a door closing sharply in his face. "......shit."

Quote:Round 4

Deadpool
Guilmon