A fascinating new world.

[Kylo Ren]

Somewhere in the night he was being chased, though he couldn't see by who, or what, it was. All that Devon could see was the grin, the strange ever present grin that followed him everywhere. No matter where he went, or what alley he turned down, it was always behind him. Eventually it would catch up, it would pounce on him from a roof, or he would turn down a dead end, but no matter what he did it always would catch him.

At that, as always, would be the point when he would wake up.

Devon, known to most as Brother Devon, shot up in cot he was sleeping on and after a few moments wiped the sweat from his forehead. For the past few weeks the frequency and intensity of these dreams had increased. Whatever the cause Devon would have to look into it later, for now he had to thank his hosts and then be on his way.

He had been staying with the Vernon family for a few weeks now, the arrangement being that he would stay and help fix the fence and when it was done he would be on his way. They were a nice family and had kept their word, he had three meals a day, as well as a nice cot to sleep on in the garage. It also helped that the man got along with the couples son, Rory, and would watch them for his parents whenever they needed a break. Sadly though his time here was at an end, the fence was fine and sturdy, and the road was calling to him once more.

He got dressed, his usually t-shirt and jeans combo with the white leather jacket, and then wiped the sleep from his eyes with his gloved hands. Feeling a bit more awake he stretched his limbs out before packing up his belongings and taking one last look around his temporary home. The garage had been covered with his clothing, books, and scrolls, which now were stuffed into his ruck sack, and without them the place now looked very empty. His sword, the roman gladius always had with him, lay under his bed were he always left it when he wasn't going out somewhere. Picking it up he strapped it to his waist and then drew the blade, staring at it.

As far as sword went it was pretty plain, a hilt with no markings and a wooden grip, the blade had no decorations other then his name engraved in it, leather scabbard, and little else. While it was a sturdy sword it was nothing special, but holding it always brought back the memories of when he was presented it. Roman history had always been a fravourite subject of his, so when the master-at-arms had to decide which weapon to train Devon in this is what he had presented him, he said it was an early birthday gift of course. Even holding it now brought back memories of that time and place.

With a sigh Decon replaced the blade in its' scabbard and took one last look around. It had been nice place to stay, but like all things it too must pass. Making his way from the garage into the house proper Devon navigated into the kitchen where he saw Kathy Vernon and his husband Mike waiting for him, a plate of eggs and toast with a large cup of coffee waiting there for him.

“Figured ya'd need this before ya go.” Mike rumbled to him in the low tone of voice of his, to which Devon bowed his head and thanked the man.

“Yes, thank you Broth... er...I mean, Mike. Thank you, you didn't have to, but, thank you.” Devon had learned in the first few days here that calling everyone brother or sister as he normally would do was not the proper thing to do. It was Mike, Kathy, Rory, and nothing else would do. Devon had liked the family instantly from that point on.

”Of course we did!” Kathy told him, smiling that ever lovely smile of hers! You know the kind, the ones that would melt even the coldest of hearts. ”You helped us lots with that fence, and were never no bother to us! It is the least we could do. Now hush up and eat!”

The young monk had learned not to argue when the law had been laid down so clearly so he nodded, sat down, and ate. The eggs were perfect, as always, over east just the way he liked them. The toast smelled great, rye with a good helping of butter! The coffee was just the way he liked it, how did that saying go? Black as night and as sweet as sin, though Devon didn't really like that sin part, you don't have to be religious to not like sin, still it was just a saying he guessed.

After he finished devouring his food he got up and bowed to the both of them, thanking them again for everything. They tried to give him money again, as they did almost every day for the past week, but he declined. They needed to much more then he did, plus he had made a vow to not gain personal wealth for himself, and this was something he took very seriously. The odd times he was forced to take money he only used the bare minimum to survive, he always donated or gave away the rest. As he was heading out of the ktichen a voice called to him.

”Don't forget to say bye to Rory before you go!” He turned back and smiled, nodding his head, of course he wouldn't!

“Of course not Kathy, again thank you, both of you.” Turning around Devon left the kitchen and made his way down the hall. He came to the living room, where he assumed Rory was by the sounds of the cartoons coming through the closed door, and reached out for the handle.

How do you tell a child that had grown accustomed to having you around that you now had to leave? With a sigh he held on to the door handle and twisted, opening the door. Instead of the living room he was greeted by a flash of white light as the world around him melted into nothingness.


................


Devon opened his eyes slowly, staring up into what seemed to be a vast expanse of, well, white and little else. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes and then sat there holding his temples due to having a massive headache, one so bad that if he actually drank he assumed this would be what a hang over would feel like. Something in the back of his mind was bothering him, he vaguely remembered something about a grinning thing, it was man shaped but there was no way he could have called that human. Maybe it had been another dream. Maybe the whole thing had just been a dream and he was still in the cot in the Vernons' garage. Reaching down he expected to feel the steel pipes in the edge but found only bricks, and this of course caused him to really focus on his surroundings. He was not in the garage, not one bit, he was in fact in front of a very fancy stone fountain in the middle of a white expanse.

He sat there, not moving nor blinking, for a few moments when all the memories came flooding back. The grinning man and his words.

“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”

Right, that had happened. He remembered now because at the time he had the feeling that he should have been taking notes, but the thing didn't really wait for him to do so, plus he was a little bit awe struck as well. What else had it said again?

This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most. 

Ah yes, that stuff that was apparently very important here, this Omnillum that he was supposed to collect. The whole thing didn't sit well with him, it sounded too much like trying to amass wealth. He hadn't noticed it but as he was thinking about the stuff he had apparently taken out a piece of it and was idly playing with it, a round little orbs of a strange metal. Why had it been orbs? They aren't really something you can pack into a pocket well, why not something a little more easy to carry?

Almost as if it was reacting to his thought the orb flattened out in his hand and because a small, thin, rectangular sheet, and at the centre was that grinning face that would haunt his nightmares for weeks to come. That at least took care of that problem for now, but it did bring up other areas of study. It apparently reacted to his thoughts, that was plan enough, so what else could it do? With a sigh Devon took the sheet and stuffed it in a pocket with the rest of them. Wait, there were more? Taking them out of his pocket he noticed he had a small stack of the bills that he didn't remember having before. The more he learned about this place the more it vexed him. Putting the Omnillum away the monk decided to take a look at the fountain, as it seemed to be the only bit of anything around, at least in the immediate area.

Strangely enough the fountain itself reminded him of one back at the monastery, the water for it came from a local spring and was actually rather cold and refreshing, he wondered if this would be the same? He had just dipped a hand in, noting that it was indeed as cold as the water he remembered, when a voice commented just as he was bringing it up to his lips.

”You actually gonna drinks that?” Letting the water fall back into the fountain Devon looked around for its source but couldn't see anything, that was until a cough brought his gaze down. What he saw caused him to jump back, bumping into the fountain, with a short cry of surprise. Standing there, no taller then his knees, was a small green creature. He couldn't say exactly what it was, it was certainly like none of the other races on his planet, though maybe if you crossed a halfling with a head of cabbage and a.... no. Well, maybe? No. Maybe a goblin, though weren't they just fairy tales?

Realizing that he had reacted rather poorly towards this, fellow he guessed, he might have come off as rather rude.

“I am, uh, well, sorry about that. Sir. Sorry sir.” Devon sort of scratched at the back of his head while he spoke, feeling and probably looking rather awkward towards the situation in general. The thing was looking at him oddly, Devon wasn't sure if the green creature was going to hit him or what.

”Yous new here?” Devon sort of just nodded, not daring to speak at the moment, though this seemed to break the tension a little bit. ”Ah, S'ok. I'll let 'er pass. Still I wouldn't drinks that!”

Devon looked from the fountain, to the one speaking to him, back to the fountain, then back to the speaker.

“Ah, ok I guess, sure. Why not?” The creature looked at him and shrugged at the question.

”Not sure what you sees, but that thing is rusty lookings. Waters looks bad too.” Once again Devon did the back and forth between the thing and the fountain.

“Hm, but I don't see that. Strange, does it change for everyone?” The creature shrugged. “I see, have you tried to drink from it? Has anyone? Would it be safe, do you think? I wonder if it is magical, it would have to be I guess. Perhaps someone has tried studying it maybe?”

”You talks too much.” With that the small green creature just turned and walked away, it probably had better places to be.

“Oh, ok, well, good bye I guess.” There was no reaction to his words, as the thing was already well on it's way. Still, this was something! It didn't make much sense and just brought up even more questions, but it was something!

Sitting down he pulled off his ruck sack and dug through it till he found what he needed, a small leather bound journal and a pencil. Quickly he got to sketching out the fountain and writing what notes he could from his limited exchange, maybe someone else would come by he could ask about it, someone a little more knowledgeable and a little less green.

[Kylo Ren]

You ever have one of those moments, where it seemed like only minutes had passed but in fact it had been hours? Devon was having one of those at this very moment, and the only thing that brought him back to reality was the growling of his stomach. He wasn't exactly sure how things worked here but if he had been taken just after he had breakfast, and his stomach was growling now, then it had to have been awhile since he last ate, but didn't he just start his research?

Looking down at his journal he saw this was not so, or at least that there was plenty written there. He wasn't sure exactly how much could be considered research since after awhile he apparently just started doodling and writing down all the questions about this place that had started to come to mind. Closing the book and putting it away, Devon stood up and stretched before taking his ruck sack and putting it back on and heading off from the fountain into the vast whiteness of what ever this place was.

Still, it was all fascinating to him, the amount of raw magical talent needed to do something like this? It wouldn't just be the plant stuff the elves do, or the elemental magics of the fae or whatever. This here? This seemed like a level of magic above anything Devon has ever seen before, if only he could learn it's secrets.

Wait, he was doing it again, letting his attention wander like that.

With a soft sigh and a shake of his head Devon picked a random direction and started to walk, at least for a little while before he stopped and took out his journal again to write more. Just a few minutes out from the fountain and already he had seen more races, people, and things then he thought he would have back home. He had decided it might be best to keep his book out to write in as he went, otherwise he might miss something!

While there wasn't much in the way of landscape eventually he came to the edge of the area, and then following it around he found a gate, then another, each looking radically different from each other. It had taken him at least a few hours, or more judging by how hungry he was, to get to this point and he was hoping he could get some answers soon.

All he knew is that the gate he was currently standing by was clean cut stone, and a few folks in armour had come out and generally avoided him, they seemed like they had something important to do so he didn't bother them. The armour they wore though wasn't too familiar to Devon, but it did have a sort of a twelfth century vibe to it, possibly fourteenth? It made him absolutely curious about what was on the other side of this gate, and he was about to blindly walk through when a familiar voice caught his attention.

”Oh, S'you agains.” Devon looked over, and then down, for the person speaking only to be greeted with a rather familiar, and overly green, face. To his credit this time he didn't make a fool of himself by almost jumping out of his skin in fright, he did stare for a bit longer then would be considered polite though.

“AH! Hello again sir, it is funny running into you again so soon! Well, I guess not that soon. It has been a couple of hours at least, hasn't it?” The goblin just looked at Devon for a brief moment before sighing and shrugging its' shoulders a bit.

”I guess. What you doings here?” It was Devons' turn to shrug before he answered.

“I am actually not sure, I was wandering around and taking some notes about this place at first.” Devon showed the goblin his book, though the creature seemed rather unimpressed with it, before he continued. “Then I came across this gate, and another one before it, and was just wondering where it led to so I was about to head in!”

”S'Camelot.” Devon's eyebrow rose at this, Camelot? THE Camelot? Round tables and all? Surely it couldn't be. ”Theres other gates too, eights of them. Some goes to nice places, somes don't. This ones is ok, I guess. Tangled Greens' da best.”

“Yes, really? Eight of them you say, and this one leads to Camelot? THE Camelot, with King Arthur and his knights?” The goblin rolled his eyes at this one.

”S'not Arthur, S' Aragon. Lots of other folks too, I goes there sometimes with messages. Some peoples there kicks me, so I bites there shins!” The goblin grinned showing a row of rather pointy looking teeth.

“Ah, yes, noted.” Devon scratched at his beard a bit, it needed to be trimmed soon, because it helped him think. “So it is not Arthur in charge then, it is a shame. You know there was a rumour that King Arthur was actually a Roman solider stationed in Britain that stayed on after they left the island? At least it was something like that. There are so many rumours and half truths, plus a lot of people who say it is just made up, it would have been nice to get some facts on the situation.”

[b]”You never shuts up, do you?” Devon looked at the small creature, remembering last time they spoke, and then laughed.

“No, I guess I do not. I guess I just get excited sometimes and I have all these questions, all these thoughts to get out of my head, and it is a lot worse when I actually have an audience around and” Devon paused mid sentence and then blinked, “I am doing it again, I am sorry about that Sir. Please, don't let me keep you anymore.”

The goblin just grunted, then kept on walking. It made Devon wonder what the goblin did that he was always walking around like that, but in the end dropped the thought. There was something else he had to decide right now, was he going to step through this gate or not.

[Jade Harley]

Writing with the NPC Prime Kanaya Maryam with permission of Brother Devon!

Death has been very kind to Kanaya Maryam— or, rather, undeath has. What excellent companions are happiness and good fortune as she slips between the lands of the dreaming dead and the waking world!

This has been an employment of the unsophisticated human concept known as sarcasm, if you weren’t certain. Kanaya is actually rather downtrodden, but this setback only serves to fuel her ire at the cape-wearing bastard strutting about in his fancy-shmancy chateau in the Pale Moors.

Her latest attempt to breach the fortified walls of Count Dracula’s gloomy fortress had been all for naught. The other undead— the brainless, hopelessly stupid and complacent ones,— had been a very inattentive audience as she went about delivering the latest rousing speech she had painstakingly compiled for the occasion.

“My fellows in undeath,” she began, tone as somber as the grave as they shambled about her with rancid, maggoty, and pockmarked skin sagging— and occasionally squirming,— off of their limbs. “For too long we have—“

She actually was not even given the luxury of finishing her opening statement, for it was at this juncture that a clammy and disgustingly cold hand with hideously cracked brown fingernails and yellowed joints had seized her about the neck and in one swift, merry-go-round movement that cut her speech off short with a sandpaper-y hiss, snapped her neck.

Kanaya believes that Dracula is likely just making fun of her plight for the allegiance of his Secondary hordes now. It is no matter— she will eventually emerge victorious. He cannot hide from her trusty lipstick forever, even if the only glimpses she has caught of him are of the furling sweep of his cape.

She reforms in the Nexus without much aplomb, her red skirt impeccably unstained. If she had been rejuvenated as she originally had been, fresh from her very first death outside of the Omniverse, she might seem to be a little worse for wear— a gory hole torn through her midsection with jade-coloured liquid singed almost into shrapnel-dark edges all around, the bits of her spine torn asunder and copious amounts of blood slogging down her shirt. As it is, however, Kanaya’s neck is notably untwisted and there is a fresh sheen of black gloss painting her lips.

At the very least, she can safely say that Omni knows a thing or two about style.

The Nexus is as white as her rainbow drinker skin, which glows with an unnatural intensity not unlike the steady radiance of a light bulb. Her yellow eyes, almost cattish in the slim quality of the dark pupils within, flutter as lightly as a moth’s wings. Two slender fangs peek over the plump portion of her lips, the elegant curve of her asymmetrically-aligned horns mirroring the muscular curves of her torso and hips.

She is little more than seven sweeps old, and there is still some baby fat left that gathers persistently about her cheeks. She has also died roughly seven times, discounting the one time before her entrance into the Omniverse. This is not unusual— most of the children from her species must learn to fight, many of them perishing during their developmental sweeps as they begin to establish themselves according to their caste. Fortuitously, Kanaya was one of the few to arise again from such an untimely death.

The familiar light weight of the tube of lipstick between her claws reassures her that this sort of cross-dimensional allocation of her person has to have meaning. That her enemy started out just as she did, and that she will eventually surpass him with any luck. She will preside over the whole of the Moors and heal the damage wrought to the settlement of Darkshire, as a proper Sylph should.

After resurrecting in the Nexus with an odd, convolutedly-shaped construct in place of the Fountain of Infinity, the jade-blooded troll had set off at a steady pace for the dreary Moors gate, her flat-bottomed shoes sliding lightly with soft paps at every step. However, she barely gets about a minute out before something in her peripheral vision stalls her progress.

Movement— a mishmash of brown and orange and appalling white leather draws her attention, and Kanaya’s eyes alight upon yet another occupier of the Nexus moseying around in an easterly direction, about the size of a bright orange crayon sitting upon a far shelf. The vertically-aligned shape slowly recedes into the distance, and she knows that even at a brisk walking pace it will take her half an hour to catch up.

She pauses, hesitant, leaning more towards her previous destination with a troubled pucker manifesting between her brows. This other person, most likely a Prime, is headed towards Camelot. While Kanaya has never thought to investigate any of the other verses, so occupied with the sorrow-laden Moors as she is, she recognizes an opportunity to gain an easy ally when she sees it. If she seeks to associate with them, however, she will need to be quick in approaching them before the Kingdom takes note of her presence.

In truth, Kanaya Maryam has become something of a meddler. She prefers the term revolutionary, but the less formal title certainly fits. It is a grand improvement from “Fussy Fangs”, in any case. Whatever her titular designation, Kanaya is disrupting the balance of things that has held for so long in a verse. No matter how dangerous and worthy of displacement Count Dracula may be, the Kingdom might become suspicious of her engagements, and the Empire equally so. It would be best for her to exercise caution.

Smoothing down her long-sleeved shirt, the jade green Virgo symbol swooping elegantly across its front, Kanaya is momentarily disquieted by the slight dip her hand makes into the fabric over a particular place that is located a short space above her abdomen. It is strange, how the old wounds she received before arriving here have not been healed as any of the fresher ones have. The burnt out portion of her stomach feels strange with the pull of fabric tugging ceaselessly against it with each step she takes.

It takes her a while to reach her quarry potential acquaintance, and she is almost a little surprised when she does. His hair is long-ish and splays haphazardly over his shoulders, dark brown in colour, and his t-shirt clashes terribly with his white leather jacket. Kanaya barely refrains from cringing, but still curls her lip a little while the human’s back is still turned. He appears to be regarding the gate to Camelot, an almost studious attention in his bluish eyes.

Kanaya clears her throat softly so as not to startle this stranger into an unwanted quarrel, smiling in a way that largely conceals her fangs from view. “Hello, traveler.”

The fellow turns with a slight start, glancing pointedly down at the ground before up into her shining face, as if he had been expecting someone much shorter to be addressing him. Angling her head so that her horns tip in an acknowledging nod towards this stranger, Kanaya moves to stand beside him with a rustling of her skirts. She notes that he is a few inches taller than herself, excluding her horns from the equation.

With a slight and unassuming hum, she, too, looks towards the gate. Or, more unambiguously, the scouts that meander about it with glints of steel and gold playing about them in subtle rays of implied administration.

“You are considering a visit to Camelot, then?” she asks, canting her head to the side. The dark curl that usually falls across her forehead brushes over her eyes, and she blows it away with a short, exasperated huff before continuing to speak. “I wouldn’t go there, if I were you. It’s awfully uninteresting, at least after a while, especially when you consider the Pale Moors and all it has to offer by way of mystery and intrigue.”

He peers at her more closely, now. Either he is simply trying to figure her out or he is interested in what she has to say. Whichever way the pendulum strikes, it is a significant development that Kanaya latches onto in order to make her bid for the questing partner that she so dearly needs.

“Especially in the heretofore isolated, unexplored-by-living-eyes realm of Count Dracula.”

The bearded man stares at her some more, seemingly aghast, but she senses that he’s an explorer or scholar of some kind. Kanaya raises one precisely-shaped brow, her voice taking on a less airy tenor that sounds almost fraught with doubt. She really needs to convince this guy to join her side. She isn't sure she can handle another solo mission, especially if it ends just as sourly as this last one has.

“The verse is crawling with undead monsters, what more could you possibly need to hear? We will be liberating a fair portion of the land from nightly terrors and sorrow. A new Prime such as yourself could be a great source of aid to the poor citizens of Darkshire, as well as to all of the lowly undead who are being led astray.”

Apparently he needs to know a good deal more, if this guy’s expression is anything to go by. Kanaya’s other eyebrow ascends towards her hairline to be with its comrade, her jade-tinged eyes wide and beseeching.

“Well? Are you interested or are you not?”

[Kylo Ren]

How long had it been since Devon had come to this gate he did not know, all he did know was that he had been standing there a good amount of time deciding what to do. He really DID want to see Camelot though! He was about to take a step forward when a voice had stopped him in his tracks. It was probably another goblin or something, so far other everyone he had met had been about the same height as his knees!

Turning around he glanced down and was about to make a reply but then realized his eyes were looking down at a red skirt and not, as he had assumed, a rather short creature. Letting his eyes wander up to her face Devon stood there staring, was this a demon?! Had one of them followed him here?! The skin was almost the right colour, but it glowed so that was strange. She had horns, but no tail or any of the other distinguishing features of the demonic race of his world.

While he never fully trusted that lot this one, if a demon she was, actually seemed rather polite. It wasn't the general 'I am being polite because I have to be now do as I say!' thing that demons normally had going on, this one actually seemed to be sincere in her speech.

Wait, she had been speaking! What was it she said again?! Devon racked his brain as she went on. Right, there had been something about Camelot, going to this place called the Pale Moors, Camelot being uninteresting or something, and then a lot about undead nightmares and the like?

Devon stood there for a few seconds and then realized he was supposed to talk now, as she had asked him if he was interested in joining her. There were a few more awkward seconds between them as the words seemed to be caught in his throat, the demon woman staring at him expecting him to say something. In a minute or two though she would probably wish that he had just stayed quiet!

“OH! Right, yes. Sorry about that. I am truly sorry ma'am! This is a lot for me to take in! As you have guessed I am indeed new to this place!” Devon paused only long enough to take another breath. “Yes, I was thinking of going to Camelot, I mean it was always an area of interest to me! Well, more so the rumours about it and it's connections to the Roman Empire. You see, there are many theories that if King Aruther actually existed that he was actually a Roman solider, or a commander or something! I was hoping that there might have been some clues to this at this copy of the place, but apparently the king here has a completely different name altogether! Any clues I might find would be skewed by whatever warps the reality in this place, still might have been useful though.”

Devon's words trailed off as the woman before him just stood there staring at his onslaught of unrestrained thoughts and words. He was doing it again.

“Oh! Sorry ma'am, I tend to get excited about stuff easily and take any chance to talk about it with another! Even if they are a demo, I mean that they are not huma, er, I, yes. Sorry.” Devon was starting to fidget awkwardly, never in his entire life had he been forced to interact with different races so often! It was not a skill he had yet to master, and he unrestrained tongue was not helping his cause.

“What I mean is that, this place you speak of does seem rather interesting. From what I know the undead were mere legends, any accounts of them either falsified or over stated. Simple magic puppetry that lasted only a few moments at best. Though if you say that they are here, well, I have seen a strange thing or two since I have arrived that makes me inclined to believe you.” He paused for a moment, considering his next words. “As much as I would love to investigate, the research possibilities alone are intriguing, I do not see why I would.”

Devon's excuse seemed to trail off a bit as he grasped onto one bit of the demon woman's explanation he had apparently missed the first time. Did she say that there were people there? They were in some sort of trouble apparently. Whoever this person was, and intentionally or not, they seemed to hone in on the one thing that would drag him through hell and back.

“I'm sorry,” he started off, Devon really seemed to use the word sorry a lot, “but did you say there were people there?”

The young scholar saw by the smile that was now on this woman's face that she knew he would be tagging along now so with a sigh Devon collected himself, making sure he had everything on him, before waving off into the distance.

“Well lead on! I am sure it is going to be an adventurous trips worth telling stories about for ages to come! Maybe eventually there will be a myth about ME for future scholars to decode! That would be rather exciting don't you think?”

As they walked on from the gate Devon kept going on about the myths and legends of the undead, Camelot, and all the sort from his own lands while regarding how nice it was to have someone to talk to in great depth again!

Even if they were not human, glowed, and seemed to have a rag wrapped around her torso soaked in a strange jade coloured liquid. He might have to inquirer about that, but not now since that would be rather rude!

[Jade Harley]

Her newfound compatriot is a human of the bearded and leather jacket-wearing variety. He also happens to have a talent for speaking grandiosely about everything at once, excitement and curiosity rolling off of him in almost palpable waves. Kanaya finds him to be fairly boisterous, if to an almost grating degree, but she is accustomed to this sort of behavior.

Patience is the key, she thinks to herself, taking careful mental note of his questions which are as difficult to pick out from the rest of his words as a needle in a haystack. Although Kanaya cannot imagine why anyone would even attempt to pursue a needle at that point. Would it not be more prudent to instead locate another needle? Whatever the case, this bearded human sure talks a lot.

“There are people there, yes,” Kanaya replies, starting off towards the gate. She waits a moment for him to realize that he should be following along, and after an awkward start they soon fall into step next to each other. The jade-blooded holds herself with poise as they walk, arms splayed non-threateningly at her sides; she notes with some belated interest that a faint glow from her skin passes through the fabric of her sleeves.

Taking some time to formulate a more elaborative, detail-filled reply, Kanaya continues, “The adversary, Count Dracula, has been terrorizing the citizens of Darkshire for quite some time. I arrived in this universe a while after his original ascent to power, and I fully intend to remove him from the Moors. Everything that he does is steeped in debauchery— the undead under his guidance are as much of a victim as you and I could very well be. They require proper direction, not vague militant orders. I'm sure you will agree once you have seen the situation there for yourself. I do agree that there are many research opportunities available, but I fear that they could only be seriously undertaken with the removal of Dracula.”

The rainbow drinker glances at him out of the corner of her eye, watchful. Once or twice, Kanaya catches him balking rather obviously at the purple sash tied securely about her stomach. She deems it best not to tell him about how this thin piece of cloth is keeping most of her innards, well, in.

After walking together for several minutes in the general direction of the gate to the Pale Moors, the man has not ceased to prattle at her about the nature of the Omniverse and some human ancestral figure. While Kanaya listens attentively, expression befuddled but in an indulgent way, she finds his frequent apologies to be off-putting.

Still, she smiles pleasantly and nods when they come across instances in their conversation when it seems suitable to do so. It has been such a long time since she has been in kindly, breathing company; she had almost forgotten what it might be like. The jade-blooded troll would do well to befriend this one during their journey across the far reaches of the boorishly white Nexus, as well as work to inform him of the obstacles they will no doubt come across in liberating the Moors.

But, first things first— she has to nip this frequent repetition of apologies in the bud. She might not fully understand what he has to say, and she has a distinct feeling that this human will be a source of frequent bemusement on her part, but this man is obviously uncomfortable and feels the need to check himself. This will not do.

Adjusting the buoyant satin bow that is tied in place at her back, Kanaya cuts him off before he can launch into this newest topic of one-sided conversation. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

The hairy man stops babbling away, looking her full in the face as if startled. This kind of direct eye contact isn’t necessarily appreciated amongst her quarrelsome species, but Kanaya is willing to overlook it. Cultural differences, aliens, all that mess.

All around them, the Nexus flows by at an imperceptible pace, the specks of portals slowly shifting in the distance. Kanaya’s yellow eyes briefly flit to the armored Kingdom soldiers at their backs before she speaks.

“The apologizing. It’s detracting from everything else that you are saying, which is actually very interesting, in case you were not certain of that. Who is this King Arthur, then, and was he as noble a warrior as the current King Aragorn?” she asks, genuinely interested.

Kanaya thinks that she perceives his posture loosening somewhat from relief— the two lapse into a half-silence that lasts until they can see the gate to the Moors appearing more unmistakably in the distance. By Kanaya’s estimate, it is roughly a stadium’s length away, now.

The man is still talking as they come up on the decrepit grey stone gate, covered all over in dappled growths and moss. Kanaya marvels at his ability to speak almost nonstop, with only short intakes of air in-between to signify that he is breathing at all. The instant he stops to take a breath, however, Kanaya interjects. She would rather that they got to know each other before this arduous journey began, anyhow.

Slipping her green and white tube of lipstick into the palm of her hand, Kanaya turns to address her fellow Prime in arms. They are still a fair distance from the gate; it will only be a moment or two before they have reached it. “What is your name, if I might ask? Mine is Kanaya Maryam, if you were wondering about that at all.”

[Kylo Ren]

The journey itself had over all been rather pleasant, for Devon at least, as it had been ages since he had been able to talk with such abandon. For as much as he spoke though, she had at least replied in kind for the most part, though maybe not as much. Very few could talk as fast as this bearded man could, though what she did say had some interesting things in it at least. Apparently they were about to fight Dracula, another myth he thought that had been brought to life in this world. This was going to be a very informative trip after all!

Then she brought up the thing about all his apologizing, Devon opened his mouth to apologies again but immediately forced it shut. Something in the way she was speaking told him that it would probably not have been a good idea.

“Ah yes, well, it has been awhile since I have really had the chance to speak with many races outside of my own.” He was about to say more but then he caught her question about Arthur. “I am not sure who this Aragorn is, but Arthur was king of the Brits and unified the land under his rule. Again though there is much debate over what is historical fact and what is just pure myth.”

After this little exchange things fall into silence, but not that awkward silence you tend to get with strangers. No, this one was more two people travelling that no longer had anything to say to each other for now. Getting to there destination seemed more important then idle chit chat at the moment. Though it doesn't last more then a brief moment before Devon starts filling the silence with some talk about various subjects he has encountered since arriving here.

The young bearded traveler is divulging everything he has learned about the fountain at the center of this place as the two of them finally make it to the gates of the Pale Moors, covered all over in dappled growths and moss as it stands there before them.

Before Devon can ask even a single question the strange woman interjects and offers him her name, Kanaya, and it is a rather pretty name too. Devon thinks to himself that even the demonic folk can sometimes have beautiful names, that is if a demon is what she really is. He was starting to think that he had very little idea of who or what can be moving about in this strange place.

“It is a pleasure to make you acquaintance Kanaya, my name is Devon Whilst.” he smiled and bowed his head slightly to her. “Though most people call me Brother Devon. It is a title that, well, it is a little hard to explain. If you wish I can tell you my story before we go on?”

It had indeed been a question but Devon had not waited for an answer before he took his back pack off and set it down, sitting down next to it and motioning for her to take a seat.

“As you can tell it seems we come from very different worlds, and I will tell you a bit of my own.” He paused for a bit and scratched at his beard. “I come from a place called Earth, though you might have an Earth where you are from but it will probably be drastically different from mine.”

Trying to think of the right words he sort of spread his hands out in a gesture that he has seen most of his teachers use in their lessons when they were trying to buy time to collect their thoughts.

“My Earth has about 6 main races sharing the planet. There are Angels, Demons, The Fae, Dwarves, Human, and halflings. For the longest time only four of these six races had magic, the humans and halflings having none.” He looked at her and tilted his head to the side. “The Demons of my world looked rather like you, well the horns and grey-ish skin, add in a tail and take away the glowing. Though I am getting sidetracked now!”

Shaking the thought from his head he continued his story.

“As I said most of the races had magic of some sort except the humans and the halflings, that was until my order was founded and they found a way to tap into man's inner energy, or some would say his will power, the fire of life. The order's purpose was to expand the realm of human knowledge and put us on equal footing with the rest of the races.” Devon paused to like his lips, they were starting to get a bit dry. “At least that is how it started, after awhile we became isolationist, locking ourselves away from the rest of the world while still claiming to have humanities best interest at heart.”

Devon looked at his companion and realized he was doing the information overlord thing again and tried to focus more on the 'this is me' aspect then the 'Here is the entire history of my world!' part.

“Right, so, uh, I joined the order when I was about five. My parents sent me off after they had an offer from one of the order's agents, they go out in the world and find new recruits as the order has a strict vow of celibacy so having children of their own is not really something that happens. I studied for years, learned the ways of the order, but eventually I grew tired with always being locked away, knowing nothing of the world outside. I figured I would go out, learn about the world, record my findings and try to change the way the order worked! I would bring us back into the world we had taken ourselves out of! Sadly, that is about when I was dragged off to this place, where ever we might be.”

Devon took in a breath and paused for only a brief moment, deciding he had talked enough about himself for one day.

“That is, well, about all I wish to divulge about myself at the moment.” He gave a slight sheepish grin in apology instead of actually apologizing again. “How about yourself? Where are you from?”

[Jade Harley]

Kanaya nods to herself, tucking away that piece of information about King Arthur for later. Perhaps, once they have gotten to know one another better, she can ask about the various myths and legends associated with this human ancestral figure, and what information this human holds as truth.

Everything he talks about after that— for Kanaya does not have much to contribute, she is not quite as enthused about the mere makeup of a fountain as the man walking beside her is,— is generally interesting, although Kanaya cannot exactly understand how he could find so much to say about such a blank verse. She honestly cannot wait to see how he reacts to a place such as the Moors, which has colorful and detailed things like vegetation and variations in lighting. The Nexus is, quite frankly, as dull as can be. She doesn’t quite have to heart to halt his enthusiastic gesticulating about this new world, however, and so she remains silent for the most part.

The jade-blooded troll is a bit baffled by the bearded human’s decision to simply sit down a small ways from the gate as if they are about to partake in a picnic of some kind, but she bemusedly takes a seat on the pearly white ground nonetheless, red skirt pooling around her as she sits. She can only hope that he will break out the sandwiches and lemonade sometime soon.

Alas, there are no triangular snacks of bread, cheese or pickles in sight, and certainly no sign of any freshly squeezed and iced citrus fruit. While this might seem to be a minor setback, Kanaya at least finds this man and his willingness to communicate at length agreeable. Brother Devon, that is his name, does seem quite unsure of what to make of her, however. To be fair, Kanaya isn't sure of what to make of him, either.

He rambles on about being trained in some secretive human order from a young age, secluded from a much larger and more opportunistic world. Kanaya can sympathize— for most of her young life she had only her lusus for company while living in her hive in the desert. Although Devon’s separation from his guardians— not lusii, she must remember that— is especially tragic.

According to his account, however, she bears some resemblance to a race of “Demons” in his home world. Ah. Kanaya assumes that this is one of the primary reasons why he is so fidgety while speaking about her grey skin and horns— this sort of misconception will need to be rectified immediately, if she is given the chance to do so.

Soon enough, an opportunity arises: Devon asks her a direct question about her home world. Kanaya narrows her eyes at the man’s smiling face doubtfully, for she suspects that he was about to apologize yet again for something silly like talking too much. Watching his expression carefully for any signs of further apologies, Kanaya opens her mouth to speak.

“My planet was known as Alternia, and it was inhabited by a single primary race, Trolls. The only other species to populate its jungles, deserts, and oceans were the Lusii, which are caregivers to trolls from a young age and vary greatly in size and likeness. A particular facet of Alternian society known as the Mother Grub produces young trolls from… erm, collections of genetic material that are formulated in the breeding caverns. Most adults were off-planet for much of the time, and the only guidance we receive throughout life is from our designated lusus and from what we can glean of our ancestral past.”

She pauses, frowns at a moving speck on the horizon that is most definitely not a portal, and then resumes her Troll Culture 101 crash-course: “Each troll is hatched with a different blood color, which separates them from one another and oftentimes organizes them into a predetermined role based upon the hue of their blood and fateful placement on our society’s hemospectrum. It is an unfair system, much of the time, with an innumerable amount of those considered lowbloods and few considered highbloods. My blood color happens to be one of the rarest, as it is jade, and I was going to be tasked with tending to the upkeep of the Mother Grub upon reaching adulthood. It ultimately does not matter, however, and I could speak for days on the various inequalities and peculiarities of Alternian society, but in the end Alternia was destroyed when several acquaintances and I decided to play a game that triggered a rather unexpected apocalypse.”

Kanaya takes a moment to let that sink in, fiddling with her trusty tube of lipstick in-between her fingers and looking practically anywhere but into his face. She reaches up a hand to brush away a stray lock of dark hair before once again launching into the massive information dump that she has tactlessly begun.

“This may seem very far-fetched to you, and for that I apologize. However, I am certain that once you have spent some more time in this Omniverse you will begin to understand that just about anything is possible. At any rate, back to what I was speaking of before. My current tendency to glow is a result of my death at the hands of one of my more unstable comrades— I believe you could liken my resurrected state to the human concept of “vampirism”, as it were,” she fidgets with the edge of her bright red skirt from where it has bunched up around her legs, lips turning downwards. “It is not exactly as grand as I had always thought it would be, from the many books I delighted in on the subject. In any case, I suppose that I have gained a fair amount of stamina and strength that I would not have had otherwise.”

Kanaya curls her lip, grayish tongue sticking out in a childish show of disgust, her fangs almost but not quite dragging close enough to pierce her lip. “Blood tastes absolutely atrocious, although it is something that I must consume. I cannot image how that fiendish Dracula enjoys it so. If I had to pick and choose, I would say that it is one of the greatest drawbacks of my undeath.”

With a light shudder and a prickly “bluh bluh”, Kanaya creates what she imagines to be a perfect facsimile of Count Dracula by crooking her fingers so they appear to be intentionally fearsome and clawed, and, once that is done, waggling them about in the air in a totally ridiculous way. After a few seconds of doing so, she appears to realize that this is an absurd thing to do and desists at once.

She blinks at Devon Whilst and, after a faint twitching of her lips, mirrors his sheepish grin. Fantastic, she is talking almost as much as he has shown a propensity to do. They will surely hit it off! “There is very little that I have learned about humans beyond a few internet conversations, although I have come to appreciate most of your species’ more witty inclinations, but there was an Earth somewhat different from your own in a universe parallel to my own. Your situation sounds quite extraordinary, however, especially with the organization you were a part of. Were you trained in combat at all, by any chance?”

There we go, Kanaya. Getting straight to the point.

[Kylo Ren]

The openness this Kanaya had show to Devon, and how free she apparently was with her sharing of information, was an absolute delight to the young wanderer. Not long after she had started to tell him about her world he had already had his journal out and recording it. There was even a little sketch of her in there, it wasn't anything too spectacular but it was still pretty good.

Some of the things she said though, extraordinary! Hatched, Lusil, Mother grubs, and did she say that their blood was a different colour? Each member of her OWN RACE had different coloured blood, and for some reason this turned into a caste based system? How was that even possible?!

Also she seemed to mention something about drinking rainbows, and it being something akin to being a vampire. He had to admit her impression of the standard mythological vampire had been pretty good, he even chuckled at it! Thought it seemed that this would be, and all the others as well, mysteries that he would have to ask her about at another point in time. The number of these kept on growing.

At this very point in time things were starting to get serious, as now she was asking him about his combat abilities. How was he going to explain this one?

“Well, yes I can, sort of.” Awkwardly, that is how he would do it! Really really awkwardly! “You see, each of us are trained in a melee weapon of some sort, the one we are given depends on which one we show aptitude in.”

As he spoke his left hand went down and patted the hilt of the Roman gladius that was strapped to his side.

“Before you ask yes this is my only weapon, no it is not my only defence though.” Looking over both his shoulders Devon made sure they were not being watched by any of the many people using the Nexus as a means of travel, and then he took off one of his gloves showing a tattooed hand. “I also have these, head to toe.”

He could tell that his companion was probably going to ask what simple markings of injecting ink into the skin could possibly do to aid in combat, or something like that he guessed, and help up a finger on his now bare hand to indicated that he just needed a minute.

Rolling up the sleeve of his jacket a bit more of the tattoos could be seen, a mixture of various languages. Concentrating Devon delved deep inside of himself focusing in on that inner flame he always found there, the one that sustained him and connected him to the rest of humanity, and then began it bring it to the surface. As he did this the visible ruins on his hand and arm started to glow, though there were spots where the clothing was thinner that a faint light could also be seen.

The glow starts to intensify until soon it looks like there are actual flames, pure white in colour but flames none the less, starting to rise from the tattoo. Soon all the tiny sparks of fire merge into one, swirling around his hand.

“In this state this magic is pretty harmless, I have to command it to do something and then it takes shape.” With his other hand he pulls out a piece of chalk from his backpack and then places it in the opposite hand. “Lux lucis meus via.”

As soon as he spoke the words the white energy flowed from his hands into the object he was holding in his hands and the piece of chalk took on an eerie green glow, almost reminiscent of a glow stick people usually used while out in the woods and the like. Placing the glowing writing utensil down in front of them he then held up his hands as the white fire started to grow around it again.

“What I did there was one of the most basic things I can do with this, and like all the spells I know they all last a limited time.” Focusing in on the flame again Devon forced it back into the depths of his soul, small little multicoloured fireworks exploding off his uncovered skin as he let go of the power and everything returned to normal. Once it was done he spoke again as he replaced the glove. “Most of what I can do, or at least of what I can remember, is mostly designed to help others though I do have one or two offensive spells at my call. I will probably be able to get more as time goes on and their memory returns to me. As it stands now?”

He just shrugged at this.

“The few I have will have to do for now.”

[Jade Harley]

It was while Kanaya was speaking that Devon seemed to, in a fit of fumbling excitement, realize that this was a grand opportunity for scholarly recording and cracked open the little book he had with him. The incessant scribbling was a bit distracting, but she caught a glimpse of a sketchy drawing of herself that was a flattering enough sketch and so she didn't bother to question him.

After she had asked the question about Devon's strife ability, he seemed to take on a sort of secretive and mysterious air, gesturing to the impressive sword at his hip. Kanaya attributes this to him having been a part of some clandestine order, and this assumption is only affirmed by the fact that he pauses to glance around warily at their surroundings before starting to pull off one of his gloves.

Devon removes a glove with a swift tug, a totally inscrutable meaning behind this action that Kanaya doesn't quite comprehend until she actually looks at his hand. They are covered in an interesting array of tattoos, although she isn't certain of how this constitutes as any kind of defense. He also pulls back his sleeve, exposing the flesh there that is riddled with all sorts of peculiar symbols tattooed into the skin along his arms.

As Kanaya watches, her brows drawn together in a conflicted expression of both perturbed confusion and fascination, the markings begin to glow. This glow spreads along his arms and to the rest of his body, intense rivulets of bright light trickling along his limbs.

Soon enough, the white fire spluttering about Devon's body produces a single concentrated area of energy that oscillates smoothly around his hand, flowing gracefully about as if it were alive. Kanaya looks on in slight bewilderment as the bearded mage before her pulls a piece of chalk out of his pack, infusing it with the peculiar magical essence that he has created, and her eyes widen in wonder as it begins to glow green.

"That is certainly something," she remarks, smiling as the spectacular— and slightly alarming, in all honesty!— sparks settle down around Devon and seep back into him. She can't quite figure out where they disappeared to, but she assumes the energy returned to some kind of metaphysical and intangible area that she cannot see.

And it certainly is something. She had no idea that she was speaking to a spell user this whole time, and this kind of magic seems at least slightly more agreeable than the purest of white sciences and necromancy she has come into conflict with as of late. It's like a breath of fresh air, that's for sure. More importantly, however, she is at least 99.7% positive that Dracula will never see this coming, and that is something, let me tell you.

"Well, Brother Devon, those spells were very impressive," Kanaya tells him, her smile fanged but just friendly enough to not be overly intimidating. It is at least apparent that she doesn't intend to be frightening, in any case. "I would be delighted to learn more about them if we were to have the time to during our travels, but I believe that it would be best if we departed soon."

Mouth twisting into a frown, Kanaya observes as a fresh influx of Primes wanders off from the Fountain of Infinity. She couldn't be assured of the fact that they are friend or foe from this great distance, and the ever present gleam of the Nexus throws her vision off-kilter somewhat, but she would rather not find out for the time being. Brother Devon was a lucky find in comparison to some of the other terrifyingly immortal beings that have come to be favored by Omni. He is a good soul— hopefully it will not be marred by the sinister darkness which looms so frightfully over the Moors.

The jade-blooded troll gets to her feet and brushes imagined dirt off of her skirt, glancing expectantly at Brother Devon.

"I don't know about you, but I would rather beat the masses before rush hour sets in," Kanaya says, only half-jokingly.

[Kylo Ren]

Picking up the glowing piece of chalk Devon returned it to it's place in his pack, it was still useful after all and the glow would fade in time! At least the leather of his ruck sack should keep the glow unseen from prying eyes, which from what little he has been told of his new mission would be a rather good thing. No need in declaring you position to everyone around with something as silly as a glowing writing utensil!

Collecting the pack he stood and slung it once more around his shoulders, though made no effort to dust himself off as everything here seemed rather pristine and lacking in dirt or dust. Still he did make a show of fidgeting with his gear and making sure all was in order. The young brother nodded at the rush hour comment and added in a piece of his own.

“Right, on we go! Audentes Fortuna Adiuvat!” As the words left his mouth he could see his travelling companion raise her eyebrow at him. “It, uh, it means, quiet literally, Fortune comes to the aid of those daring.”

With that awkward little exchange they headed on towards the gate to the Pale Moors, which thankfully had not been too far from the spot they had stopped to chat in. When they had finally approached it Devon stopped to remove his journal and a pencil from his pack and started to scribble down what he saw, complete with a little sketch of the gate, same as he had done back at the Camelot gate.

This time however he had kept it brief as they had more important things to do, but by the look his compatriot had given him he had taken too much time as is in his chronicling. Closing the book he gave a sheepish grin and shrugged.

“Old habits die hard, as they say.” It was the only thing he could think to say to Kanaya as he closed the book and returned it to his pack. “Well, shall we continue then?”

The logical thing to do here was to wait for an answer, form a plan, but Devon was feeling rather bold at the moment, and plans could be formed on the other side!

Without waiting for an answer the young mage seemed to straighten himself up, take a deep breath, and facing the gate in front of him he marched forward and through it, hoping rather dearly that his companion would not suddenly decide to leave him behind in whatever nightmare he was purposefully blundered into.