The Temple of Artemis(Pre-Event/Intro Thread)

[Clownpiece]

Like us... Somerled sighed inwardly, maintaining his interested expression as Amaterasu continued her conjecture. So the great kami had noticed his little hesitation after all. It wasn’t all bad, however. She knew, but wasn’t outright saying it, and the lack of action taken against him seemed to mean that she didn’t plan on killing him. In fact, she was acting downright friendly, something the monster would never have suspected as a possibility.

In the midst of her rambling, Somerled caught notice of an interesting observation she’d made. Now wishing that he’d done it earlier rather than worry about being smited, the monster turned his full attention to Amaterasu. “You are brilliant!” he praised once she had finished her monologue, an ecstatic smile on his face, regretting that he had just dismissed her thoughts as rambling at first. “There are so many things I didn’t notice there. You’re right, no magic that I could think of would be able to linger this long. Unless the original applicant of the magic is still sticking around like you said.” Now in an area that he was comfortable with explaining, he became a bit more passionate in his speaking. “Or the curse is using Teucer’s own life to power it. Or the application of it is permanent, since you don’t need to keep two halves of a broken stick apart to prevent it from...” Somerled paused for a moment, mood falling fast. “Reforming.” Finishing his sentence, he crossed one arm across his torso and brought the other up to his face. “That can’t be it,” he spoke just above a whisper. “But now that I think about it, Sonny hasn’t been speaking. Because I got over excited? He didn’t want to ruin my mood?” Silence overcame the monster, as he waited for his other half to speak.

Four seconds passed, what should be an adequate amount of time, but no response came. A very worrying event. Was Sonny still with him? The damnable split prevent him from noticing any mental signature of his other half under even the best circumstances, much less the severe limitations imposed by the Omniverse. Unless the sun spirit spoke through him, he wouldn’t be able to know. What if he summoned him though? He thought a short-lived idea. Not in front of Amaterasu, not yet.

“But anyway!” he spoke, springing out of his quick little train of thought and returning to the topic at hand, hoping his detour there wasn’t too long. “Teucer seems pretty confident that this will work, which means your idea is likely the most accurate.” The moment of worry was now gone, and he was back to being friendly. “The warlock is probably still around, and probably still rather powerful. I’d be glad to team up.” A warlock who could split someone into six was not someone Somerled would want to face alone. If a silly little magician had split him in two, then this warlock would be even worse.

[The Spirit]

The Spirit had a great smile come onto his face, the sound of a familiar name was the biggest relief he had in millennia. These words took him back to a better time when his comrades were still alive and he felt the wind brush against his skin. The memories of his mortal coil almost brought tears to his eyes. It was slightly weird that Achilles' blade was alive...he was rather fond of it though...

"Why yes, I am that hero Teucer. You do not know how much it pleases me to see an old friend...even though I never knew you were sentient. I would shake your hand but I am no longer tangible. I hope I have not ruined any of your previous plans, however I have been stuck here since after the war and I can no longer handle this torturous existence."

The Spirit's smile grew so wide and the urge to hug this newfound body was great. It seemed that he had chosen a few good heroes.

[Magus]

Twice disgraced.

Defeated by some desert-dwelling plebeian, and then some petulant child, hardly out of diapers. He was a man who was supposed to return to an army dangerous, disenfranchised men. To lead a rebellion of the highest order. And he’d been defeated twice in quick succession for all the Verse to see.

All he wanted was to see his sister safe, but fate thwarted him time and time again.

“Omni,” he breathed. “Can you hear me? Are you listening?”

He trudged out of the Colosseum. The streets were barren, even the many roadside shops had shut. No surprise; he’d left long after most of the spectators had gone home. Good. He hated the rabble anyway, and he wanted nothing more right now than to be alone.

“Do you know,” he was speaking to Omni again. Or to himself. Even he wasn’t really certain. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you when I find you?”

He took a breath. It would not serve him to succumb to his ire. He wobbled for a moment before his eyes widened and he realized he was falling, hurtling through a black and alien nothing.

Magus twisted and turned as he plummeted through the air, trying in vain to right himself, to find something to stop his fall with, to escape the trap he had fallen into, but soon he resigned himself to the gut-wrenching plunge.

He grimaced, preparing to leap into the Plane Immaterial when a sudden flash of colors raced up at him from below and he smashed into a finely-polished marble floor with a sickening crack.

Interestingly, when the strange, Hellenistic reality faded in around him, Magus found himself unharmed, in spite of the fact that he’d just collided with solid stone at terminal velocity. Given that this wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened to him in his stay in the Omniverse, he shrugged it off and climbed to his feet.

“Greetings Champion,” said some old, ethereal asshole who introduced himself as Teucer. Magus immediately tuned out most of what he had to say. ‘Recruiting’ he said. Funny. The wizard didn’t feel that he had been recruited. Kidnapped, maybe.

But ‘I kidnapped you to make you help me’ probably wouldn’t produce the desired effect.

Magus grated his teeth together. He had experienced nothing since he had arrived in the Omniverse except delay after delay after fucking delay. And now he was stuck helping some dead guy alongside a gaggle of whatever dregs the ghastly creature had been able to summon from wherever they might have come.

Others protested at the absurdity of the situation but it was quickly made clear that nothing was to come of it. Besides, Teucer insinuated great power could be had by way of helping him. And indeed it seemed as though, even in his weekend state, great power was something within this creature’s grasp.

He swallowed his fury for now. Perhaps he’d soon confront Omni after all…

[Kakashi Hatake]

A glimpse into the future. Being the glutton for knowledge that he was, Kakashi was surely tempted by the adolescent’s offer. Indeed, he knew that there was hardly a person alive that would not be curious about what the future held. Still, the shinobi could not shake the strange feeling he had about this girl.

“Sure,” the copy ninja responded flatly, “but we’ve just met. How are we to know that what you’re saying is true?” Kakashi could only barely conceal the sound of distrust in his voice.

It was all too serendipitous, stumbling upon Minato and now this future-girl. Years within the ranks of ANBU had conditioned him to regard everything with some degree of suspicion, and this was no different. Kakashi could tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man that stood beside him was his former sensei; he need only focus his sharingan on the man’s chakra to confirm this. No, what irked him was the sudden emergence of this child, herself only too keen to gain their trust. And the title with which she had addressed him, Rokudaime. Surely this spelled deceit.

“Sorry, you’ll have to forgive Kakashi’s tone,” Minato said with a smile, bending at the waist to meet the newcomer at eye-level. “But he has a point.”

Try as he might, the scarecrow could not place just what was so strange about this girl. Surely her words were odd enough to warrant suspicion, though this was not what was setting off alarms in the shinobi’s head. Perhaps he had just been thrown by her sudden emergence and paranoia had taken over. For the moment, he would need to let it go.

[Amaterasu]

Seeing as how Somerled presented no evident reaction to her little trick, Amaterasu decided to drop the trick for now. She might find out more another time, or it could simply be that she was mistaken. Investing more time and effort into that would just make Somerled suspicious and undermine the friendly base they were conversing at. And that was something that she really wanted to avoid. For now, she shrugged at Somerled's remarks. "From what little we know of Hero Teucer I think that I myself have drawn any conclusions I can. You may know more than me, but I myself am not going to risk speculating too far... we can always reconsider once we have recovered any of the pieces... the relics, I mean. Perhaps they'll tell us more, or there will indeed not be anything to do once we have brought them together." She patiently waited when Somerled mentioned someone named Sonny and looked around to see if she had missed someone who had stood by all the time and simply been quiet. Could that be it? No, there was nobody there... although she now took notice of how many people had actually arrived! One was speaking with Hero Teucer, it seemed... then there were others whose attire reminded her of her homelands, of Japan, though only vaguely.
Who else? A woman reeking of oni and with a red halo above her head, which caused her to bare her teeth momentarily before she quickly caught herself and went on looking. If this was a disguised oni or a mortal having ties to them, she would have to deal with her later. Not now, while she had not even got her Yasakani no Magatama at hand... let alone the evil-vanquishing Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. In due time however, once she had acquainted herself with the Omniverse and its inhabitants, oni and others... she could not rush into battle and vanquish evil without plan if she wanted to purify this world of evil.
Onwards... there was one... no, two men wearing odd clothes... it looked like metal clothes, armor perhaps, but none she had ever seen before.
There were another two men and one human-like man with oddly long ears, all wearing peculiar clothes, she didn't pay them much attention.
The next being did catch her eye on the other hand - a relatively small bipedal being with large black ears and a tail. An anthropomorph? Yes, but she couldn't quite tell what type of.
The next one provided an explanation to what the funny stench had been that she had caught spreading through the room. What in Orochi's name WAS that? Not human, anyway... it had a roughly human shape but seemed to be some embodiment of decay and pestilence. This one was an oni, she held no doubt about that. Her hand twitched as she reached for the nonexistant handle of the Kusanagi no Tsurugi. Right... the blade had been lost, hidden somewhere in this world, she needed to recover that first... gritting her teeth she moved on to look, without realizing that Somerled had spoken to her and she had not even noticed.
Okay, who else was there... a strange white being that looked oddly skeleton-like, another woman with red hair but looking younger and with neither a red halo nor a stench of oni about her...
Yet another woman with reddish hair as well? That must be a dominant trait around here. Nothing too eye-catching there either so she continued to look.
Next up was a man wearing more odd clothing... perhaps some sort of fashion around this Omniverse. Arthuria and Somerled were wearing clothing like she'd never seen in Nippon, either. She looked on.
ANOTHER red-headed girl, though this one looked slightly younger than the others and was wearing a cloak. And she was speaking to a white-haired girl looking a bit older... they were probably a team, she figured. Both had more peculiar clothing on them, besides the cloak. She was beginning to wonder if her miko robe was making her stick out around here.
Another mortal, a man with more weird clothing... she began to worry about keeping them apart.
Yet another followed... this one wore one of the more eccentric attires with his green pointed cap and green clothing. But on second look, he seemed clothed like an adventurer, so he probably wore this shade of green to hide in the forests... right?
The next person was the other way around, wearing normal clothing - at least by standarts of what she'd seen from the other people - and had green skin. An oni? No, he didn't have the characteristic aura or smell about him. She decided to not press it.
The next person wore clothing made out of... it looked like gold. How impractical that must be, she thought. But it probably provided him with some protection, too...
The next one was a blue-haired man who she believed could very well be from Japan like herself, but he looked different... and he had a weird aura about himself, sort of like Queen Otohime had had. A mage? Hmm... interesting.
When she turned further she realized that she was looking at Somerled who apparently had been kept waiting and who now was looking at her with a curious look in his face. She only now realized how lost she had gotten in examining all the people around them, and she bit her lip and blushed a bit. "I'm sorry, I..." She made an erratic hand movement to cover the room behind her. "I was looking around, didn't realize how long it took me. I hope I didn't keep you waiting... uh, were you saying anything?

"I was saying that I'd be glad to team up."

Amaterasu's blush slowly faded and she smiled brightly once again as she nodded in response to his proposal. "Oh! Oh, great. Well, I sincerely hope that this works out for the both of us then! Perhaps we can rally a few more people then... I mean, I don't know what your goals are, or if anyone else has any. But with me not competing for the rewards I would say we have a fair chance at finding a few teammates. If you're okay with having more people team up with us, that is."

Translations:
Oni: Demon.
Yasakani no Magatama: Eight Shaku Curved Jewel. Refers to Amaterasu's Prayer Bead Chain.
Kusanagi no Tsurugi: Grass Cutter Sword. Refers to Amaterasu's Blade of Kusanagi.
Miko: Japanese equivalent to a nun.

If anyone's wondering, Amaterasu is noticing the people in turn of when they joined into the Temple thread.

[Clownpiece]

Was this a common trait amongst those who aligned with the sun, Somerled wondered. Amaterasu and Sonny both seemed to share endless optimism. The storm spirit cast a quick glance around the room, counting heads, but not really paying attention to details. There were a lot of humans, a lot of weirdos, and likely a lot of weirdos who looked like humans. Where he saw a bunch of people who he wouldn’t trust as far as he could throw, Amaterasu obviously saw a lot of potential allies.

“A few more allies...” Somerled mumbled, a look of thought coming across his face. Why not give it a try? Why not have quite a few allies for once? It’s not like he’d been burned by betrayal before. There should be no reason for him to be so paranoid, but no matter how he spun it, however, he just couldn’t shake that unease. He had hoped the non-answers he’d given earlier would suffice.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I’m not too comfortable with large groups.” At the same time, however, he knew they’d probably need more than just the two of them. “But I’ll still help you find allies, if that’s what you want.”

[Weiss Schnee]

"Ruby! Weiss! Don't leave me!

Weiss felt tears sting her eyes, even as she fell.
Everything was finally right in her life.
For an instant, she had her family back.
Only for it to fade away like just another dream.
In this moment Weiss felt like her heart was breaking, more than when she'd lost to Okor, more than when she'd fell into the Omniverse, even more than the day Ruby disappeared, Weiss felt utterly helpless.
"Yang... Blake......" Weiss squeaked.
"...Ruby..."
I’m leaving all of you… Again…

Marble took the place of darkness as Weiss's boots hit the marble floors with a quiet tap. A small part of her was disappointed that something had softened the fall. The pale huntress couldn't even open her eyes for a moment, as her shaking hands clenched and unclenched. Everything she'd done, everything she'd worked for... It didn't matter. She was alone, again, and-

She could hear it, suddenly. A familiar voice… crying, but even so, she was here.
Weiss opened her eyes and turned in Ruby’s direction, and found herself halfway between laughing and crying. She was crying, but she was alive, and she was safe, at least for the moment.
Weiss dashed forward, putting her hand on the younger huntresses shoulder. “Ruby!” She called, half-expecting her hand to pass through. It didn’t, and tears freely streamed down Weiss’s face as Ruby turned to face her.

The Former Heiress embraced her friend, pulling her up to her feet, before noticing a strange absence at her hip even as they held each other - though Ruby noticed it first.
”Weiss… We can’t have our weapons.”

The ivory-haired swordsman instinctively held out her hands, trying to summon Myrtenaster, a slight bit of panic entering her mind. She didn’t want to lose her precious rapier. It was more than just a weapon to her, it was an extension of herself, the one thing she could really call her own. A pang of sympathy hit her as she realized just how bad Ruby must be feeling right now - Myrtenaster was important to Weiss, but for her team leader… Weiss had used to joke to herself that Crescent Rose was probably who she’d end up marrying. Ruby’s distraught expression right now made the joke a lot less funny to the swordless fencer.


But despite all her concentration, Weiss couldn’t summon either weapon, getting nothing more than an aching head for her trouble. “Looks like you’re right.” Weiss muttered grumpily. She’d half-expected it to just be Ruby’s own inability to concentrate-

But you know very well she can concentrate just as well as you, when it counts.
Weiss closed her eyes, taking a breath. She’d spent a year with her team leader, spent six months without her after that, and she still found herself putting down the girl, even if it was mentally. She really was a terrible teammate.

Weiss was so wrapped in her own world that she probably jumped higher than Ruby did when the weighted voice of an ethereal man interrupted her thoughts.

Greetings Champion. I am the mighty Hero Teucer and I have chosen you to help me in this quest to release me and to let my spirit rest in peace. I was slain in this land in a war a long long time ago. I should be resting in the Elysian Fields but that evil warlock cursed my soul onto six relics that you must retrieve for me.” The spirit floated over to the middle of the pool in which there is a small table which looks as if it has a placeholder for these items.

“The relics are scattered throughout the island and are protected by powerful guardians who have been set forth by the Warlock. Please...help release my spirit by bringing all six relics here to the temple. Once I am released I will give whoever brings me all six one of the relics and will imbue it with great power. I chose you because of your valiance and honor as a fighter and I believe that you will be the one to free me. If you have any questions I will be here as long as I’m recruiting others. Please save me.

Weiss resisted the urge to immediately ask several questions, such as “What are the Elysian fields? What is this land? and while we’re at it, who the hell are you?”

the moment she took a second to listen to the so-called “mighty hero's” words, though, the more she felt ill-at-ease with them. Why would he summon so many people, and then turn freeing him into a contest? Wouldn’t that just be motivating people with greed? Or maybe that’s just the way people did things in the place he came from? She knew that a lot of the corporate world worked like that… But then again, most people she knew from the Schnee company at the top… Really weren’t the most heroic of people.

Of course, he could always just be a heroic jackass. She’d also seen plenty of those in the world. Like Ruby’s Uncle Qrow, or... sometimes her sister. Every once in awhile. Just a little bit. But in a completely well-intentioned and far more understandable manner that often just had to do with the hard job she carried.

”W-Weiss… I’m scared…” Weiss heard from under her, and she looked down with some surprise to see Ruby… and for the first time in a very long time, she could see that, yes, the shaking girl in her arms really was afraid.

“Ruby…” Weiss said, letting only a bit of concern bleed into her voice. “...I won’t-” Weiss cut herself off, before correcting herself. “We won’t let anything happen to each other.” She said with a slight smile, trying to convince herself she was as calm as she was trying to sound. “It’s alright… Even without our weapons… it’s just like the forest. We’re partners… As long as we’re together, we can do this.” Weiss told her softly.

She half-expected for her partner to say something witty, like “gee, you sure like to go on and on, Weiss.”, and as Ruby’s hands clenched tighter to her vest, Weiss realized she was hoping for that outcome. “Weiss…” the girl squeaked. “...I just wanted to see my s-sister.” she sobbed.

“...I know.” The white-haired teenager replied. “We still will. I promise. We’ll see her together.”
Something slightly shifted in the ruby-haired girl’s pitch. “Together.” She said, just a little insistently, and Weiss wondered if she’d been seen through again.

I won’t let anything happen to you. Even if it kills me.

“Together. No matter what.” Weiss lied. She knew perfectly well what their odds were, but… She also knew there was no chance she’d let anything happen to Ruby while her body drew breath. No matter what it took to keep her alive and well, Weiss would do it without hesitation.

Before she or Ruby could say another word though, Weiss heard an all-too-familiar yell, and she barely managed to remain standing as it felt like the blood drained from her head. Her eyes widened, and her jaw shook itself slightly open as she slowly turned her head to look behind her.
“Weiss! Over here!”

Weiss half-yelled, half-whispered her reply, her tone coming out oddly, as she protectively moved her body, almost as if she were trying to hide the auburn-haired girl she was embracing.
“O-Okor?!”

[Jak Mar]

What was only him and Victor quickly turned into a meeting of others. Jak shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. He couldn't let Victor shake him up all that easily. Victor hardly knew him after all. Hatred tugged at his eyes as he turned away from Victor but heard... no smelled a giant figure... The smell bothered his nose... as Daxter would call it, it smelled like "rotting yakow meat" which was not too pleasant.

He watched as Victor and Okor began to talk and he started to walk over to the stranger with a green cloak, the man had short ears and the rather annoyed anti-hero would take a chance this stranger would want to ally.

Jak's blue eyes couldn't hide his various frustrations, however. He decided to engage the conversation, name's Jak... His eyes moved on the stranger as he looked at the man's short ears "I see you have ears like mine, yet somewhat shorter."

[Schwi Dola]

Suddenly it seemed like Desco was falling. This was very confusing, as she had just launched an attack against that healer person. The reality around her had shifted. The white of the Nexus that made everything bright and eerily unreal had been replaced by an equally eerie but less bright stonework room. How had she gotten here? At the same time she could feel that something was wrong with her body. She couldn't float through the air anymore. That sixth sense for danger she had developed seemed blank. Where had she gone?

“Greetings Champion. I am the mighty Hero Teucer and I have chosen you to help me in this quest to release me and to let my spirit rest in peace. I was slain in this land in a war a long long time ago. I should be resting in the Elysian Fields but that evil warlock cursed my soul onto six relics that you must retrieve for me.” The spirit floated over to the middle of the pool in which there is a small table which looks as if it has a placeholder for these items.

“The relics are scattered throughout the island and are protected by powerful guardians who have been set forth by the Warlock. Please...help release my spirit by bringing all six relics here to the temple. Once I am released I will give whoever brings me all six one of the relics and will imbue it with great power. I chose you because of your valiance and honor as a fighter and I believe that you will be the one to free me. If you have any questions I will be here as long as I’m recruiting others. Please save me.”

She looked at the spirit that had summoned her as he spoke. He looked really old... like, really really old. Desco's Yogsothoth dealt without even his own floating ability, two tentacles like legs holding him up. Whatever had affected Desco was worse than daddy's collars or Dante's Abyss. The old man asked Desco something of importance to him. A great task worthy of a great hero. He asked really nicely, and it was a task just about any hero would take up for him! A man, or lady, of honor could do no less.

"But Desco is not a hero!" Desco leaned forward. "Desco is a Final Boss! Why should a Final Boss help you? This seems like someone the Chosen One and his party of good guys should be doing!" Then again, he had offered to pay Desco with an artifact of some notable power. Desco liked power... maybe it wouldn't be so bad for a Final Boss to do a quest once in a while?

[Ururu Kyuuei]

Ururu forced a grin on to her face as she shook her head, “I’m the unknown element, skepticism is only natural.”

Reaching into her duster, she felt around for her journal Ururu found only a rather conspicuously empty spot in her main pocket. Which in itself was unfortunate for a number of reason that left Ururu nearly sputtering a desire to rend the spirit who had brought her here. The look on her face faded as she took a deep breath, and centered herself before she did something she’d regret.

“Figures my Journal didn’t make it. So I’ll be going from memory then.” Ururu added with a hint of annoyance.

Details were all there but there were so muddled in supposition, and years of black ops red tape, liberal use of white out and buildings lost by both the fourth war and Pain’s near annihilation of the Village. Most of what she had been learned were pieces strung together by a lot of guess work and math. Statistics really.

One of the biggest mysteries had been regarding Minato, with the blackout on knowledge of Jinchuuriki following the Fourth War... uncovering what happened was not ideal. That he sealed the Nine Tailed Fox had been fairly easy but the technique he had used couldn’t account for nearly half of the bijuu’s power, if Ururu estimates were close to accurate. Records she had later recovered from the ruins of communication outpost had cleared that up later.

Kakashi was harder, with him becoming Hokage after the war; his entire history had been classified with issues stemming from Madara and personal involvement of Obito. Especially with Kakashi’s colorful history he made a target that could weaken Konoha and open them up to attack. Once again though the Bijuu link was where she had managed to find a connection despite researching them being illegal. The incident with Kirigakure though was one that was harder to sweep under the rug so to speak. It had been amazing how much of that cover-up of the bijuu had led her to other secrets not so well protected.

But what to tell them?

Ururu took another deep breath before continuing, her voice’s scratchiness harder than usual. “Namikaze-sama, you are the Yin-Kyuubi Jinchuuriki, and Hatake-sama has the Mangekyou Sharingan begun to cause your eyesight to deteriorate?” Ururu said furitively.

Her attention fell back Minato and Kakashi and away from numerous potential facts she could yield. Ultimately she had to settle on the game changing aspects. What granted them the most power and they ones they would have kept secret in their previous lives.

Both lines of knowledge cut far too deeply into the research she was currently doing… and had been doing before all this, but it was benign enough in some ways given the lack of a Konoha Government that she would have had to worry about in any other situation. No there was freedom to investigate the bloodlines beyond her own suppressed Mokuton elemental fusion bloodline.

Now she just had to pray the two almighty legends didn’t just cut her down where she stood, but nothing else would likely secure their belief if not their faith.

Words though caught her attention in potentially the worst possible moment, her head involuntarily shooting to her left.

“Desco-chan?” Ururu yelped.

[Okor]

Beneath his oxidized helmet, Okor sneered at the assassin. Venom, both literal, and metaphorical dripped from his words as he looked down upon the belligerent brat standing before him. ”Wolfe.” The abominable oculus of the Plague Marine bore down on the youth, analyzing and cataloguing every mortal failing contained within the lean figure. It was not a quick endeavour. During their brief time together, Wolfe had quickly demonstrated a complete lack of honour, skill, and loyalty. How in the six circles of Slaanesh’s sick and twisted realm did this failure gain entrance to the Institute? At least the Gods were merciful enough to restrict the waste of life from his own department. He gave silent praise to the Ruinous powers, as the rage and annoyance that had built up inside of him with every second of existence in this damnable mockery of reality threatened to boil over. ”Is it not… Ironic? A kingslayer, a traitor, and a…. Coward, should be given the task of uniting this hellscape.” A gnarled finger, parasites crawling beneath the dessicated skin, jabbed in the direction of the alabaster-clad girl guarding her crimson companion. ”That young woman is… ten times the warrior than you could ever be, Assassin.” He twisted his decayed head towards the impassive visage of his subordinate, blank eyes betraying no emotion towards current events. Was he incapable of showing it? Or were they simply wise enough to hide any objections? Either way, they certainly seemed to carry themselves as a veteran of a Long war. Not The Long War, but a conflict worthy of respect, nonetheless.

This realm was not his own. Such a relentless assault against one of his comrades, no matter just how incompetent they proved themselves to be, would be unlikely to be tolerated. In the Screaming Vortex, a ‘man’ such as this would have been drained, skinned, and worn as a damned hat before the day was out. What remained would have been rendered into ritualistic materials, or protein paste to sustain lives that somehow mattered even less than Wolfe's. That would not be allowed here, to his dismay. Laws aside from the whims of the strong existed here, shackling and restraining basic human nature. Perhaps it was for the better. Tearing off Victor’s small skull would only mean he would have to endure some horrific pun three days after that moment of blessed relief. It was but another reason to topple the reign of the Smiling One, to bring back the blissful release of true death.

His claw moved swiftly, changing its target from Weiss to Victor, its pointed nail stopping just short of disgustingly soft, pale flesh. ”I give you a single chance, Kingslayer.” The giant hissed. ”Today, you redeem yourself. I took care to leave your spine intact when we fought, whelp. This is the day you… show it. Prove yourself worthy of the Omnillium cursing your veins.” He ceased his triade, the anger slowly seeping from him like a lanced boil. Sigil-emblazoned shoulders slumped, abandoning the aggressive posture the ancient warrior had so readily slipped into.

He turned once more to the Huntress, his cataract-laden cornea twitching as it settled upon her guarded posture, gazing upon the woman behind her. Weiss displayed an admirable loyalty to her friends, even if her opposition towards himself was misplaced. ”Strength in numbers, Schnee. Strength in Strength.” A hint of mirth creeped into his rasping voice, adding a sliver of humanity to the unhallowed ululation stemming from his ravaged form. ”I can… assure you, we have both in abundance.” Well, perhaps Victor detracted from their sum. Nonetheless, they were still in a strong position. Organization, power, and loyalty. Adding one as capable as his former opponent would be more than enough to guarantee victory, in his eye.

[Dave Strider]

Ryner watched as the brash swordswoman walked through, and looked aside to Cecil. It took a koment before Ryner realized something was off. No movement could be seen coming from the white knight.

"Hey, you um... you alright there?"

No answer.

"Cecil."

The knight began to glow.

"What are you..."

The Alpha Sitgma raised his hands to cover his eyes as the prime grew brighter, a painful flare equal to that of the sun.

"CECIL WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH-"

A sudden burst of light sent the spell-caster backwards through the portal as he felt himself falling, darkness surrounding him as he felt like he just watched his new friend die. Why was it always like this...

His thoughts circled sorrow and confusion he felt before he fell softly of the floor, his eyes widening in surprise as he quickly sat up and looked around.

"What the hell, where am I?"

As if on cue, a blue spirit hovered over and gave him the shtick that he gave the rest of the primes. Ryner nodded along as he tried to understand. It wasn't unlike his previous tasks with Sion, searching for rare artifacts.

"Alright, but what about a friend of mine. Is she able to come with me or is this a task I must complete alone? What about all the other people?" He looked around as he listened to the spirits answer, nodding along.

"I'll help however I can then."

The Alpha Stigma made his way to a small group consisting of a white haired girl, a shady looking guy, and a sickly looking armored fellow and a few others, shyly scratching the back of his head as he tried to join in.

"Hey, so, that spirit basically told you guys the same thing he told me, right?"

Speaking to the group with Okor, Victor, etc

[Ada Wong]

A sort of scruffy man who seemed for all the world to be the most comfortable person in that ancient temple approached Teucer and began to speak amiably with him. This in and of itself wasn’t exactly significant; in fact, if Crowley hadn’t spied the pure white gem winking at him from where it was embedded into the man’s armor, he likely would have thought nothing of it.

That fellow was Koren. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You could bounce dimes off of that flawless armor and have a few jangling coins placed right back into your palm. He wasn’t bad looking, for an inanimate object turned human.

“Pssssst,” Crowley hissed. “Koren, hey. Koren.”

Nope. The Bejeweled Blade— or, Crowley supposed, man, was far too busy chatting up Casper the Friendly Ghost to pay any mind to poor old Crowley. Oh well, he’d find something else to occupy his time while he waited for…. Whatever was going to happen. He hoped it wouldn’t be anything too messy, in any case.

Crowley turned his head to the side and idly scratched behind his ear, a decidedly awkward set to his shoulders. A new guy had appeared from out of the blue, a regular L’Oréal customer with pointy ears and skin as smooth and whitish as a well-used emery board. Judging by the way he had been glowering so mightily at everyone and everything, he was none too pleased by his sudden abduction.

That was just fine by Crowley. He wasn’t too overjoyed with this strange occurrence, either.

“Hey. This is a real circus, eh?” The new arrival looked at him sharply, quick as a whip and wild as a bag of scratching and spitting feral cats. He seemed like the sort of fellow who had been killed maybe once or twice, in Crowley’s learned opinion.

“No offense meant, but you look like death warmed over. Well, not even warmed over. You might as well still be in the drawers, is all I’m saying. But, hey— it’s cool. Or not. Whichever works for you, pal.”

The demon paused to scuff one shoe against the floor. A few pieces of dried mud flaked off, and he became rather acutely aware of the funny little detail that it might be all that remained of his home. What a downer. “Anyways. The name’s Crowley. I’m not one hundred percent sold on the whole getting tossed across dimensions thing, but I’m also not going to pass up a chance to get some sweet loot. Would you…. want to band together, maybe? Not that you have to, of course not. Just. You seem like an alright person and we’ll probably never run into each other again after this, might as well chat for a bit before we die horribly and in pain, yeah?”

[Schwi Dola]

Desco's head turned to a familiar voice. "Ururuchan? You were brought here too?" Desco looked back at the spirit, he was fielding another person, that came right after Desco. So she had a moment to speak to Ururu. They hadn't met for long before in Camelot. They lost touch after Desco participated in that tournament. She didn't do so well, but a magical girl was almost as bad as a team of rangers. Both usually beat their final bosses.

Desco didn't step away from the spirit though, so she spoke loudly given some distance between them. "How have you been Ururuchan? Desco was just in the middle of a fight in the Nexus. Someone called Princess Bonbon attacked Guu! They used a baby orc as a bomb and killed Desco's Prinnies! Desco was just about to kill their healer but now she is here."

[Albert Wesker]

Okor Paleblood. An odd name, to be sure, but its uniqueness should make it reasonably easy to remember. Filed away, with a horrid, twisted mass of fetid, rotting flesh and twisted parasites wrapped in a hulk of ancient, corroded armor to match with it in lieu of a face. It wouldn't be forgotten, nor would the station of who it belonged to. An impressive title, from whatever world he'd hailed from before the Omniverse, and a more relevant position as, apparently, Colonel's immediate superior. That fact brought just that little trace more of grimness to the face of the virtual soldier.

He let his arm drop back to his side, adopting a neutral posture. "Quality over quantity." He echoed the sentiments of the plague marine, his tone suggesting it was an oft-repeated repetition. "Numbers only matter if you have enough of them to drown your enemy under bodies." The shrug was left unanimated, but clear from his tone. He'd been on the receiving end of that tactic personally, and seen how effective it could be...but how easy it was to tear apart with the right measure of strength to weather it.

The walking epidemic had his attention stolen by another figure among the Primes arriving to the temple, diverting his gaze and lifting an arm to beckon them over.

"Weiss! Over here!"

Translation...."weiss"...."white.

That lended a clue as to who it was that the towering mass of disease and filth was waving over. Young girl, clad in white. She seemed more than a little ill at ease at the sight of Okor. Colonel could hardly blame her. But his attention was stolen by the approach of another Prime, seemingly also part of the Institute. Introductions were made in brief, the greeting of this Victor Wolfe met simply with, "Colonel. Institute Security Branch, Vice-Dean." He wasn't much for small talk, and the lack of pleasantries at the new meeting was quite evident.

It seemed Wolfe and Okor were acquainted with one another. The animosity the plague bearing warrior felt for the comparative youth was clear; almost palpable, at that. He gave voice to his thoughts vigorously, even going so far as to point out that the young girl, Weiss, was a far more capable warrior than the assassin might ever hope to be. Whether that was fact or personal bias remained to be seen, but it was something the digital trooper would keep in mind.

He returned an empty expression as the plague marine surveyed him with his one befouled eye. Only the ever so faintly luminous, unblinking stare made any indication of life, faintly expanding and contracting, shifting like the lenses of a camera to focus in on minute details. Whatever experiences had passed between his Institute associates weren't any immediate concern of his, and he kept what few thoughts he had on that matter to himself. Perhaps wisely so.

His attention wavered from the vicious tirade and ultimatum spouted by the plague marine, of only giving one chance to the assassin, Wolfe, and Colonel diverted his gaze elsewhere, finally taking stock of the others that had arrived. Already their numbers had swelled well beyond what they had been seemingly moments before. So many of them, and so few of these relics the 'hero' needed to be free. And a promise of reward to the one who presented them. How many would let that greed drive them?

He turned back in time to see his superior once more addressing the young woman. For his part, Colonel said nothing. Merely directed his severe countenance to stare at the, as Okor spoke. Once more it seemed to be quite the case of appearances being deceiving. Neither of them looked like they belonged anywhere near a battlefield.

He once again kept that thought to himself, though the arrival and approach of a new Prime obviated the need to do such. The new man voiced an inane question, asking whether the spirit had told the same thing to everyone who arrived here. "In the same way Omni greets everyone when they first arrive here," he responded flatly.

[Trixie]

Gilgamesh. That was certainly an ancient and archaic name. This boy in front of her knew of the living hell Trixie currently called home.

“I do not know of this Gilgamesh.” Her faded pink eyes focusing on the young looking man in front of her. “However I have been a pit slave in the Underverse far longer than I care to remember. I stopped counting the days after I died.” Her expression turned sour. The fight in the desert with Sia. It was a literal slaughter with how outclassed she had been. Scylla had turned every bone in her body into pudding. Trixie sat down on the bench behind her to maintain an eye level position with Blues.

“To answer your question, the Underverse is a nightmare. A nightmare that exists solely to torment those who exist within in it. Death can’t even save you.” She crossed her legs and leaned back against the wall, brushing some hair out of her face. “I was sent there a while ago while aiding my commanding officer on Coruscant.”

“Sounds rough,” Blues replied.

[Link]

The green-clad teen sighed, heavily at that, and hung his head for the briefest of moments before peering back up at the Toa, “Well, that makes two of us.” He spoke flatly, “There’s- uh, a fair few characters here, no?” The Hylian glanced around at the other Primes who found themselves in the same room.

Each of the others present gave Link a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, especially when his gaze crossed the rotting, hulking form of Okor. “Doesn’t look like this will just be a friendly, social gathering, right?” Link let out an awkward chuckle, continuing to turn a full circle, taking in the appearance of those gathered.

”I see you have ears like mine, yet somewhat shorter.” A not-so-familiar voice spoke out. The Hylian glanced over the newcomer and nodded curtly. “That’s.. that’s very true.” Link half grimaced, half smiled.

Link continued his full circle, eyeballing each and every person, or whatever some of them were, in the room scrutinizingly. One particular being caught his eye, aside from the rotting hulk, the young girl that appeared to have tentacles protruding from her back, yet another knot in his stomach formed and a grimace escaped unnoticed by the blond. By the looks of it, he was the only normal person in the room, a thought which gave him little hope for the coming days.

Link took a few steps backwards, putting a gap between himself and the others, leaving them beside the pool. “Uh- introductions. My name is Link, nice to meet the pair of you..” the blond dipped his head respectfully for a brief moment.

[Jak Mar]

The yellow greenish haired man with the long ears eyed the green clad teen again shook his head "A gathering to save someone? Maybe? Friendly by no means. Just meet my lovely rival, Victor.

A slow hiss came out of his mouth when he said the name.

"Honesty, Link... There's really not much normal people around to be honest. Jak's slightly undertone made him sigh for a second "Look, i've got your back if you have mine. That's all i ask..."

[Koren]

As Teucer flew away to meet with yet another of his "Champions," Koren could swear he heard someone whispering his name behind him. Koren brushed it off for the moment and took a good long look at the scenery around him. He was standing inside of a large snow-white temple, the bright marble sparkling beautifully. The temple was of Greek architecture and followed the same traditional patterns that most Greek or Roman temples to the gods followed. Koren turned his head and looked up at the large, gorgeous, marble statue standing in the middle of the large temple to the gods. Koren instantly recognized the figure of whom the statue depicted, Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt. Koren admired the familiar surroundings for a moment before hearing something familiar coming from behind him. This time, he was absolutely sure that was Crowley's voice.

Koren turned and looked at the man that was speaking. He was tall, and fair-skinned, with a pointed nose and dark hair. He was also wearing dark sunglasses, which were hiding the details of his eyes, and snakeskin... were those even shoes? Koren just wasn't sure.

Koren walked over to Crowley, who had just finished a small conversation with a newcomer.

"So," Koren began. "I guess I finally get to see you in person," Koren smiled at his own pun, "even though this form is a surprise for me as well. I guess for the time being I may as well call myself The Adorned Armor." Koren paused and took a look around before continuing. "So, want to do this together?"

[Mickey Mouse]

That thing kept staring at him.

Something unnerved him about this whole situation. The mouse didn’t like to make snap judgments of people; after all, pretty much everyone in this room was quite clearly scoping out the rest of the primes Teucer had abducted here, scanning the “competition.” The air in the room had taken a turn for the tense. Mickey could not fathom it. They shared a goal: find Teucer’s armor and return it to him. Help him achieve his wish and reach his final resting place, so he could live in peace. What part of that required competing?

Sure, the guy had promised one of the relics to the prime that brought them all back and ended up being the middle-man between him and Elysium. That didn’t matter to Mickey, though—the satisfaction of helping Teucer escape his torments would be enough. He certainly wouldn’t reject the relic if the man offered it, but he couldn’t imagine that being the primary incentive. Weren’t any of these people helping the spirit just because he desperately needed it?

The Omniverse, Mickey supposed, was filled with a whole host of unsavory people. Everywhere he went, the moral fibers of the primes that surrounded him grew thinner and thinner. Oh, well; at least he’d met a few friends along the way. He could count on Proto Man to do the right thing and this Belle girl didn’t seem so bad yet.

A few yards away, though, he’d seemed to have attracted an admirer. Mickey paid little mind to the mysterious figure other than to notice the occasional glance sent his way—sure, everyone was scanning the room. It was hard not to see this prime’s focus zero in on himself, though. He shrugged it off; Belle required his attention.

“That long ago, huh?” she sighed. “I mean, if you’ve gotta think about it that hard.”

Mickey’s eyes fluttered back up to the redhead. In the right light, she reminded him distinctly of an old friend he hadn’t seen in far too long. The mouse made a mental note to try and discover if Erza Scarlet had managed to fall into Teucer’s clutches, though he imagined he would know by now if she had. He sighed—he and the knight made a stellar team in Dante’s Abyss, and he certainly wouldn’t have minded her help now. He trusted her way more than he could afford to trust any of the many, many unknowns flitting about the temple.

“Not too awful long,” the mouse finally returned his full focus to Belle. “Maybe a few months—or weeks? I don’t really know, I’ve sort of lost track.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Time is… weird here, I think.” The observation was surprisingly astute given its simplicity. The mouse smiled and nodded in agreement.

“I’m goin’ back, though,” he locked eyes with the redhead.

“Back?”

“You bet your bottom dollar,” he squeaked, standing up straight, “I’m gonna find a way. But first we gotta help out this guy. Might as well make this world a better place while I’m stuck in it, huh?” Belle quirked an eyebrow, but seemed not to disagree.

“Such an original hero,” Belle chuckled just a bit.

“Just doin’ my part,” the King shrugged. “Although I don’t really know how I’m gonna get anything without any of my powers. I’m pretty sure everything’s gone.” The mouse glanced down at his white-gloved hands, getting an eerie Dante’s Abyss vibe creeping up his spine. Certainly everything here seemed focused on a much more noble goal—although, he supposed, when the goal of the Abyss was just to watch primes kill each other, most things could be considered much more noble—but he still felt as trapped and debilitated as he had by the circumstances surrounding his entry into that arena.

Hopefully, the mouse thought, this won’t take too long. With any luck, some good souls like himself would stumble upon the relics and they could be returned without any unnecessary bloodshed. Judging by the ragtag group of individuals that filled this temple’s main hall, though, that started to seem less and less likely.

He wouldn’t be killing anyone, if he could help it—but others seemed much more inclined.

The suspicious eyes of the other competitors began to make his fur crawl. “Hey, Belle,” he smiled at the red-headed girl, “we’re friends, right?”

“Uh, I mean, I just met you…” she stammered, “…but I guess you’ve helped me out a time or two?”

“Good,” Mickey replied, and without hesitation, help leapt up onto the girl’s shoulders and swung one of his legs around her neck. The redhead’s hands went instinctively to his legs, to keep him from falling, despite her vocal protests.

“Whoaaaaa,” she exclaimed.

“Ask forgiveness instead of permission!” Mickey grinned, leaning down and flashing a broad, begging smile at the girl. “Sorry?” She grunted in approval.

“God, somebody pinch me again—ow not for real, Mickey, God.”

“Sorry!”