An Immortal Injustice

[Shaon]

((This is a what-if RP, exactly one thousand years and three days into the future from when President of Blackstar ends. 'Tis somewhat more serious, if you don't mind.))

There was screaming, though, there was always screaming in Psychotopia. It was drizzling chocolate pancakes, and was actually a somewhat pleasant day outside. The Caretaker twirled her umbrella with the roll of her hands as she stepped outside the Church, before flipping it downward, tapping it against the cobblestone, causing it to unfold. Casually, she flipped the spiral umbrella back over her head as she walked off to the Palace.

There was a rumbling. A low-flying hovercar might've done that, but no one has used one in-

She looked up.

There was a low metallic roar, as if some skyscaper shook. She couldn't keep her eyes off of the sky.

The clouds cleared away quickly and abruptly; a golden seam showed itself directly above the city, snaking a line across the world and splitting it into two. Staring upwards still, she closed her umbrella and held it with one hand. Traffic moved by, cows floated away, oblivious to what appeared to them above.

The roar turned into a shriek. The flowing golden shades of the seam froze, and the line was pulled apart by huge, powerful, invisible hands.
---

"When the sky rips open, flee to the crucifix!" she shouted, gasping, sitting straight up on the table. Immediately she cupped her mouth with a hand.

A small voice squeaked from just out of her vision. "Caretaker?"

The Caretaker turned her head, releasing her mouth. A norn, rather tall for her race, stood on the outside wall of the rather spacious Church, holding bags of groceries. "Oh, Evey," said the Caretaker, relief in her voice.

"Caretaker, are you okay?" The norn, Evey, asked, "you were napping fine until you suddenly sat up and screamed."

The Caretaker shook her head, shuffling off the black, ironwood table. "I'm fine, Evey; don't worry about me."

Evey put down the groceries on a nearby couch. She was covered in tattoos that swirled all over her body, their shiny black surface sticking out noticably from the short gray-and-white fuzz that coated most of her body.

"I'm going for a walk, Evey, if you don't mind; you know where the food goes."

The Caretaker grabbed her oddly colored jacket, hung from the crucifix that makes her home famous, and threw it on before walking outside.

((Unlike the Concordat, I will be taking some time before things fully kick into gear, so you people can establish what will be, for almost all of you, completely new characters.

Even Immortals would change a lot over a millenia.))

[3kul]

((A thousand years?!? D: I'm pretty sure that all of my characters would either be long dead/killed by now... But I guess I can come up with something, this looks a little too interesting for me to miss out on.))

Caton sat quietly by the gravestones, praying silently for ones long gone.

"Master? It has been over an hour now. There are limits, even to prayer."

"Hard to let go, pupil. Let master be with his friends, you have chores."

The tall figure nodded, handing his master his umbrella. Caton, in the fashion that his master had done, had taken on pupils in the many years since his master's death. However, where his master had only ever taken on the one pupil, Caton, being undead, had outlived his oldest pupils, and so found himself taking on many over the years, but only ever one at a time.

His current pupil was from a rather bizarre heritage, a family of people from a distant land who called themselves 'Brephomancers'. The polar opposite of Necromancers, Brephomancers were able to call upon the spirits of the unborn to assist them. It was a most curious talent, and so Caton had agreed to take this one under his proverbial wing and teach him. He was a diligent student, and quite obedient, reminding Caton of his younger self in many ways. Of course, as his body was a well-preserved corpse Caton hadn't actually changed a bit physically, but mentally he'd come quite a long way.

Looking up, the Nekomata stared at the gravestones before him. Nobody was actually buried here, but he'd created this small place for him to pay respects to those whom he had once known. Beyond the graveyard was his small house, which was attached to a rather lopsided stone building that was his 'dojo', of sorts. They were currently situated atop the volcano in the Black Forest, where Caton had chosen to live after leaving the Council so many years ago. He got few visitors here, which was how he generally liked it, although he never turned away a guest if they took the trouble to come up here to visit him.

"Well then, friends," he whispered, addressing the tombstones. "Until the next time I pray for you."

He stood up silently, his hands quietly swallowed up by pale blue flames as he crept up behind his student. "Sneaky as always, Master," the student said in an amused tone, pointing to the dojo. Standing atop were two tiny figures, each aiming the one sniper rifle at Caton's head. "Just checking." Caton chuckled, the flames quickly dispersing. "Back to chores then. I'll be inside."

Caton left his pupil to his duties, which at the moment consisted of resupplying their dojo with buckets of lava. As Caton still possessed the Ruby Dagger, he used lava often in his training, but rather than getting it straight from the volcano he found it more constructive for his pupils to do that. It was a job that required incredible concentration and caution, for if you slipped holding one of those buckets you'd surely be burnt to death. This would certainly be daunting to some, but to Caton's pupil it was simply another daily chore - he'd been doing this for years now.

((It should be interesting to see where this goes.))

[Kazumaru]

Kazumaru's feet pounded against the floor of the forest, crunching leaves and crunching twigs.

The spirit's arm whipped forward with a whirr, the sword-gauntlet cleaving cleanly through the leg of a strange, four-legged spider-type machine, roughly his own height.

The mech's machine guns turned towards the spirit, and he thrusted towards the array with the weapon in his left hand, penetrating it and causing the array to explode.

Kazumaru punched forward with his left arm, sending his sword-gauntlet into the cockpit of the mech. When he pulled it out again, blood rolled off the blade.

A whirr and a crash behind him. The spirit spun on his heel. Before him, he saw a second mech, fresh from the sky above.

This one's machine gun array locked on faster, firing a long burst towards him.

Kazumaru instinctively allowed the bullets to phase through his body as he ran towards the mech, causing several holes to appear in his lab coat.

The spirit of electricity leaped onto the top of the mech, driving his sword gauntlet into it, his arm whirring with the effort. With a grunt, he then pulled the blade out and slashed towards the mech with the weapon in his left hand, the flexible Khadorium blade cutting through the mech like a knife through warm butter.

He glanced around warily, his eyes focusing into the distance when--

Shrieking.

Kazumaru faltered, falling to his knees, and was rewarded with twenty bullets to the skull.

Immediately, Kazumaru's world shimmered, before shattering, not unlike plate glass.

The hard light constructs faded, the room returning to being a mundane, gray room.

The Spirit pushed himself up off the ground. "Sparkles..." he muttered, breathlessly, bringing his hand up to the metal parts on his face, before lowering it to his left arm, which was made of the same metal.

Kaz shook his head, sheathing the sword-gauntlet and coiling the flexible blade-- know as an Urumi-- before clipping it to his belt.

"Sparkles?" an inquisitive, feminine voice said.

Kazumaru spun around to see another resident of the Broken Coast Labs standing on the floor of the Gefahr Room.

"Ah." he said. "Aristomache. I didn't know you were watching..."

The girl nodded. "I saw you fall, and I thought I should come in to make sure you were alright. Shall I fix the holes in your coat?"

Kazumaru took his lab coat off and examined it, before putting it back on. "No, Aeris... I think I'll leave these ones alone."

The Spirit walked towards the door and through the empty observation area, with Aristomache following him.

The two walked down the stairs from the Area to the main floor of the building, and then to the door of Kazumaru's personal quarters.

"Aristomache?"

"Yes, Divine One?"

"Please stop following me."

"As you wish."

Aristomache went off to perform some menial task for the Kult of Kazumaru, and Kazumaru stepped into his quarters.

This room was the only off-limits area in the Broken Coast Labs. It was also the only place in the B where Kazumaru could speak to any AI other than Greg or Melissa-- He'd lost the Crydex long ago, and never bothered to rebuild it.

Voices spoke to him, but Kazumaru heard nothing as he flopped onto his blob of Bed Goop, quickly falling asleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Footsteps rang across the metal-lined chamber. In the center of the chamber was a humanoid, with several cybernetic parts.

"Techniiiiiiico~" called a voice, echoing. "WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE~!"

A younger Kazumaru jumped out of the shadows, pata raised-

Static.

Kazumaru held his daughter's dead body in his hands, standing, feet slightly apart. "Sparkles..." he gasped, his voice wavering. "Why- why would I- why did you come with me-?!"

[Cirrial]

No-one is entirely sure what happened to 501 in the end. Some say he met his end in a fight to death against a Neomeme commander. Some say he went insane and was found, a lifeless hulk of metal, in an alley on Kairn. Some say he never truely died, and merged with NIDS, becoming part of the heart and soul of the Marasphere itself.

Serakree died quickly, however. All areeni do. No areeni lives to see a full year on Areen. After struggling for so long to find anything that could help her live a few years longer, she simply died overnight, an example of the species with the shortest average lifespan known to the Floating Arm alliance.

The Protoparagon was never seen by anyone ever again, but it was never seen to die or be destroyed, either. Some said that it had moved on to another universe, to better fulfil its deranged goals. Other said that it was merely biding its time. The Protoparagon was, as they said, eternal. It was both a curse to the universe and a curse to the Protoparagon itself.

Naine's death was unclear. Some say it was the stray rocket that finished him. Some say it was the deadly spar with the behemoth omegalith he faced years earlier. Some say he was never even alive, and was just, from the start, a hoax perpetrated by Maratix. But on the long-deserted planet of Ania, home to nothing more than several species of fish, there is an island with a rusted, vaguely humanoid machine, abandoned. And if you arrive at the right time, they say, then you can see a fish skeleton placed on that island. Once every ten years.

Cirrial never did die, and, in time, his patient waiting worked. As he waited, for hundreds of years, the shifting government of the Melesi allowed him back, back from his long and unjust exile. He did not stay for long, though. Soon, after less than a year, he was gone. Gone to another world. His drive to wander never diminished with time.

------

It walks solemnly, silently. It knew this place, hundreds upon hundreds of years ago.

It raises one of its legs in front of it, examining it. It must have been a thousand years ago when they were nothing but wriggly tendrils, as if undecided on what to become. That was when it could fit inside a glorified glove compartment in some machine that must be rusted shut by now.

Now, though, it is slightly bigger than that machine once was. Smaller than the trees around it, but larger than the natives it comes across. Treated with either silent awe or screams of terror.

At the moment, it wears a shape like a sleek, wiry dragon of sorts, its one red eye on what would be the top of a real dragon's head. If it were a real dragon, it'd look to be facing the ground constantly, its eye facing the horizon.

Trailing behind it, its serai companion, Tenukaltarion, glances around, intrigued. The two stop on a hill, for a brief moment to rest and reflect.

"The sky is so blue here! Look, Goldie! Look at the sky! Isn't it amazing?"

The omegalith looks to its serai friend. It speaks in a deep voice, like its voice a thousand years ago, but with the added weight of a millenium, and a deep rumble of ancient machines. "The skies of Ania were a far greater sight, Tenuka. All I see in this sky are my own memories."

"Is this the place, Goldie? Blackstar? Where you and your friend used to venture forth?"

The omegalith bows its head slowly. "Yes, young serai. I can remember it all like it were a day ago, instead of thousands of years. He was the first one I ever could call a friend, and we knew each other like brothers. He made it his life's quest to destroy those of my kind, child. As did I. Then we discovered what I was, what I am, and we realised how wrong we were. The omegaliths are not all machines of destruction, as I am sure you have discovered with me."

Tenukaltarion nods its head. "Why are we here?"

"Because this is, all things aside, an excellent world for training. And if you wish to become proficient in anything, you must train. And with what I know, training is necessary to survival, Tenuka. Both yours and mine."

[Chronos]

The Black Forest was very quiet. In the darkest recess, there was a spot where a brilliant patch of sunlight could plow through the dead canopy. A massive structure rested there. It appeared to be made out of tough wood. Upon a closer look, one would attribute the small hairs all over it to the fact that it was made of immense roots. Upon a longer look, one would notice that the building- which resembled the opening to a mine shaft- would actually fidget every now and then.

Out of this structure, an odd creature stepped. It was Ensichrys, though he was barely recognizable. His feathers had grown longer and the green had been invaded by many white feathers. His eyes no longer possessed a luster, but an unearthly glow. He also appeared slightly larger than he had ... oh, how long was it now that he'd come to Blackstar? He could not remember. He forgot a lot of things now. Everyday, things seemed less and less important.

"Mortracta," he croaked. The building stirred slightly and emitted a very low, guttural, ominous growl. "I'll be away for a while. Guard this place as well as you usually do." Ensichrys walked into the darkness. He passed a large tree with a gigantic skeletal snake coiled around it. The serpent's skull had horns on it. At one point, it was the Guivre. Ensichrys' eyes glowed a tad brighter as he walked by the skeleton.

It moved.

[TheBlackSoul]

Spifen had not yet died. It floated through the Black Forest, its central orb glowing a dull blue.

However, that central orb was all there was to Spifen now-its outer orbs had decayed and vanished over the years. Although it was, in fact, not disappointed, as what its current color indicated, but its ability to change into any other color had also gone.

In fact, the once extremely powerful Spifen was now devoid of any of the powers it had a thoasand or so years ago. However, some new powers had manifested themselves. The most noteable was it being able to communicate through Telepathy. Also, although it had lost control of the elements of fire and light, it now controlled the element of Darkness.

Another thing that had changed was that, while it used to have a chip on its non-existant shoulder, now it had mellowed out immensely. Perhaps the reason for this was that its longtime foe, the half-vampire Lunagon, was long dead.

How Lunagon had met his end was unknown. About the only thing that could be said about it was that Spifen played no part of it. The natural assumption was that he had died of old age.

However, Lunagon's death was the farthest thing from Spifen's mind as it searched. Now, after all these years, it was doing the very thing it should have done centuries ago-It was trying to find a friend.
===============

Elisah hung around the ruins of the Unicorn and Vampire Pub and Inn. It was surprising that the Chinese Wind Sorceress was still around after a thoasand years, seeing as she was, after all, a normal human.

Her appearance had changed markedly over the centuries. She now wore a dress of black, with tight sleeves. An equally black headband was wrapped around her headband. Her face was now decorated with 6 bladelike, black markings, two on her forehead pointing down towards her nose, two on her cheeks pointing towards each other, and two on her chin pointing upwards towards her mouth.

Her longsword and daggers still hung in their sheaves, although all were now peace-tied to their carriers.

The passing of a millienum had unaffected her-she still looked like she was 24. However, her outside appearance betrayed what she now was: a Nobody. In other words, she had no heart, and therefore no emotions.

Thus, this was why she was able to hang around what had once been one of her favorite haunts without going emotional. Even if she had cared, she wouldn't have been able to shed a tear. And she had a lot to learn about pretending to have emotions.

As she gazed over the streets, memories came back to her...

[alakin1]

Kiyai slowly hobbled down the Dojopolitan street. She had changed much in a thousand years, and it was a suprise that she had even lived, Voi'ans tended to only live 600 years on average, it was only her Demon heritage that had saved her from time.

She was no longer resembled a young girl, time had stolen her youthful looks, her once long brown hair was snow-white, and cut short, her shining blue eyes, with their hint of red, had changed to a pale blue, almost white. Her skin was pale and she no longer wore her skirt and vest, favouring instead a simple white robe, too large for her, which she wore like a blanket around her, complete with simple sandals.

Kiyai had long given up on mechanics, and her beloved Speeder, 'Forger' was lost somewhere in the cold Arctic wastes. All she had left was her Ou Void Pistol, decrepit and probably useless. She had not used it for 572 years, not since Mantynor had died. Since the sudden death of her close friend and mentor, whose body had been found, burnt almost beyond recognition, Kiyai had wandered. Feeling nothing more tied her to the Felbeasts, she had left, what had happened to them she did not know or care.

All that was left to her now was her memories...

A young girl, dirty from oil marks, proudly showed what she held in her hand to the demon hybrid who stood near her, smiling. She had made a small electrical engine...or had it been a small steam engine?

And even those were fading. Kiyai was tired of life, all her 1127 years of it, for the last 572 she had done nothing, nothing but wander, barely alive, less responsive than a stone, seeing all she loved fall apart around her, while she continued. Lost in her memories of better times, she slowly walked down the street.

[Swix]

((I think most of my chars would be dead by now too , forgive me but this looked too interesting for me to keep passing up ))

Unable to go underground, as the other Dark Fire Dragons had not yet forgiven him for his actions, Furnace now roamed the surface of Blackstar alone. The dragon had begun to grow his second set of horns and his nose horn at the age of 1000, so now at 1500 years he'd gotten quite a good set. He also looked different than before, his scales lacking their sheen, perhaps bleached by the sun or scratched by the winds of the surface.

Furnace no longer considered himself an EC member or a member of any family, he simply roamed the skies and ground alone, at times as though seeking something he could not find.
_____________________________________________________________

The white wolf that called himself Lykaios had lived up to his names in the past thousand years, the Wanderer had done just that, passing through different portals in search of his weaker yet more abundant replacements. The Devourer devoured them, along with everything they had absorbed throughout their lives, but only after the Trickster had done his magic.

Now only two remained, and the white wolf now stronger than ever found himself back in Blackstar. His yellow eyes glowed and the physical body he inhabited had grown considerably bigger, making him as tall as six foot when on all fours.

Currently, the lupine was striding through the streets of Dojopolis.

[3kul]

Caton was now indoors, working on his latest charm. Before dying, HollowEyes had imparted the secret of their creation and functioning to him, so that the magic art would not die along with him. Caton had spent many years working with charms and spirits as a result of this, but he was never as good at it as HollowEyes was.

He only had three spirits to aide him, all quite unpopular and on the verge of vanishing from existence. Caton strongly suspected that he was their only disciple, because they spent much of their time hanging around his home. They claimed that this was to ensure that he didn't go dying on them, but Caton knew it was most likely because they were quite bored. Since they insisted on living in his house, Caton had built them a small room atop his house, figuring that if they were going to be living here they may as well do something useful and act as sentries.

'They' being the Silkworm Spirit, the Ammonite Spirit and the Cockatrice Spirit. The three spent most of their time playing pointless yet long-lasting games with each other, occasionally looking out the windows to do the one thing that Caton asked them to do nowadays. Today's game was a strange celestial card game that weaker spirits played, or so Caton had been told. He didn't play the games with them, though his apprentice sometimes did, and they seemed to enjoy his company.

"No, I'm telling you, you can't play a Chronos card so early in the game!" "Well if you can play an Au'Marui card then I can play a Chronos card!" "Au'Marui is different, his card doesn't go by the standard rules, that's why he-" "That's what you said about the Paranesia card!" The Silkworm Spirit calmly called down to Caton amidst the heated argument between the Ammonite Spirit and the Cockatrice Spirit. "Caton! Send the young Brephomancer up here! We are having a disagreement on the rules."

"If you can't agree, play another game." Caton snapped back, irritated that he had to lecture these three immortals like they were bickering children. "Brepho is doing chores." 'Brepho' was not his pupil's real name, it was one that Caton had given him. His family only held the title 'Brephomancer' and never bothered with names, for they supposedly lived in a dangerous world where such things made you easier to track down. Caton however felt that a name of some sorts was necessary, and so referred to him as 'Brepho' to others.

The Spirits could tell that Caton was upset with them, and so they quickly ceased their fighting and looked out the windows to try and spot something that might make him think of them as more useful spirits. "Ah, he's wandering the Black Forest again!" The Cockatrice Spirit crowed, having spotted Spifen. "Who is?" Caton queried, not terribly interested. "A strange orb. He wanders around down there quite frequently, but never seems to do much." The Silkworm Spirit explained, though Caton wasn't terribly interested. "I don't know who that is."

The Spirits, disappointed at this rather boring response, sat back down again. One of them noticed that Caton was working on something. "What's that you've got there Caton?" "Nothing useful, apparently." Caton too was disappointed, but only with his own handiwork. He threw the incomplete charm into the fireplace, watching it turn to ash.

"Oh, it's Ensichrys." The Ammonite Spirit remarked, suddenly noticing the old avian warrior as he exited his house. "Or somebody of the same species. He looks very different from how you described him." Ensichrys was on the list of people that Caton had asked the spirits to look out for, as if they ever spotted them he wanted to know about it. "Really? I might go see him, then." Caton was quite interested to hear of Ensichrys' appearance, and felt that it might warrant some investigation.

Exitting his home, he spotted his pupil finishing up his chores. Caton decided that as he was going out, it was only fair to grant his pupil a similar luxury. "I'm heading out, pupil. Today is holiday." The young Brephomancer seemed quite confused, but wasn't complaining. "I'll be in Dojopolis then, master." He said, bowing before rushing back to the dojo to change. Caton didn't see the appeal himself, but his young pupil really enjoyed going to the big city.

A large serpent of lava snaked it's way out of the volcano, allowing Caton to jump onto it as it took to the skies. It wouldn't be a long trip for him to find Ensichrys, but he wanted to see what he was up to before he greeted him, just in case this was a different bird-creature.

[Shaon]

Scurvy looked up at the clouds in the distance. It looked as if it would be raining soon, but not soon enough to impede her voyage.


She stood upon the Rocinante, barking commands as the oft-repaired boat sailed to her destination.

The Barlow's residence.

Barlow, the male Scurvy. There was only one that Scurvy knew of; her father.

His residence stood out from the distance they were closing; the only building on the archipelago not built by the giant ants. It was built of a metal not unlike the innards of this ship, another major identification mark.

As they passed through the outer walls of the Barlow's residence, Scurvy snapped back to attention and continued to yell orders at her crew, patrolling the ship.

[Kazumaru]

Kazumaru brushed Sparkles' hair off of her face. "Mea culpa." he said, choking on his own sadness.

The spirit closed his daughter's eyes with his fingers, unable to look into her piercing, yellow eyes any longer.

"Mea maxima culpa."

---------------------------------

Kazumaru's eyes shot open, awoken by the sound of somebody pounding on his door.

"What?" he asked, sounding rather distant as he sat up in the pile of bed goop.

"Your daughter is approaching the building, O Divine One."

Kazumaru's mind froze up. "S.. spar... Sparkles?! But that can't be, she's..."

The realization set in, and he sighed dejectedly.

"Right. Scurvy." he said, putting on his top hat.

The spirit strode out the door of his quarters, and found Aristomache waiting at his door.

"Divine one, if I may inquire, who were you talking about?" Aristomache asked.

"My daughter, Aeris."

"But Scurvy isn't dead..."

Kazumaru shook his head. "Not Scurvy."

Upon seeing the confused expression on Aristomache's face, the spirit continued. "I'll tell you another day, Aeris."

Aristomache nodded, still confused.

Kazumaru leaned against the door. "Alright, Aeris. If you really need to know, I'm giving you permission to go to the Boneyard. There, you'll find the List. Read it, and I'm sure it'll answer all your questions."

"But Divine One, how do I get to the mainla--"

"The Thunder Child is at your disposal. You can bring as many crew as you need; However, you will enter the Boneyard alone. Once you get to the mainland, take the bikes from the hold and use them."

Kazumaru pushed the door open. "Oh, and one more thing." he said. "The safe word is 'swordfish.'"

The spirit walked out of the main building of the Broken Coast Labs, and off to see his daughter, while Aristomache went about gathering grew for her pilgramige.

[Cirrial]

Tenukaltarion pointed to the skies eagerly again. "What's that, Goldie? That flying thing in the sky."

Goldie cranes its head upwards, its large glowing single red eye gazing curiously at a flying figure, snaking around. "I... I have no idea. This was a world of surprises when I last visited, and it looks to be the one constant of this place."

Tenuka raises its arms to the tip of its snout. "Goldie, this world is, well, it has a lot of what many would ask for. Why haven't you said anything about it to anyone?"

Goldie sighs, a metal groan, and, adjusting its weight, lies on the ground.
"Well, I've talked of this world on many an occasion, but those who would be interested lack the resources for exploration, and those who have the resources wish to avoid risks such as worlds as these. It is a similar dilemnia to the one that plagues your home universe, Tenuka. How many serai and omegaliths have seen the worlds beyond Erasure?"

Tenuka bows its head. "You're right. There's so many worlds and this one's so, so unknown." Tenuka perks its head up. "So I guess that means it's all ours! Well, ours and the people living here, of course. What did you want to do first?"

Goldie grunts and raises itself back onto its legs, and suddenly shivers. Its head darts around and its eye glows more intensely. "...Tenuka, did you just feel that? That wave of uneasiness... I've felt such sensations before but only in the company of-"

"Feel what, Goldie?"

Goldie rears up on its hind legs. "Tenuka, glide! Glide fast and far! We must flee this area!" With those words, Goldie emits a single, loud, metallic screech, in an ingrained attempt to warn everyone nearby of a perceived danger.

[Shaon]

Scurvy stood, mildly impatient, on the dock as the tall frame of Barlow appeared.

You could tell their resemblance easily; they both had the same green eyes, though Barlow's did not show the same sparkle as the pirate did.

Barlow himself was as conspicuous as his home. Most of his face and one of his arms were covered with an odd metal coating of some sort, and he was clad in a worn out black shirt, bullet-ridden lab coat, and a top hat. It was no wonder he was never known to leave his residence.

"Barlow," announced Scurvy, "my ship needs supplies and I require information."

[Kazumaru]

Kazumaru strode towards Scurvy. "Go ahead." he said, finally stopping and looking down towards her. "Ask the members of the kult for whatever you need." With a smirk, he turned around again and started walking away. "I'll be napping."

Meanwhile, Aristomache was gathering crew. Not a terribly difficult task, as most members of the Kult had never seen the Mainland before, and jumped at the chance to see it. Within minutes, she had three people with her. High members of the Kult, they were designated her temporary Honor Guard.

And she didn't even know their names.

[Shaon]

Scurvy grabbed Barlow's arm before he could get away.

"Information I know you have, and no one else does, Barlow."

Turning her head, she barked orders at her crew.

"Moeller! Cheadle! Get a Kultist to lead the crew to the supply room!"

"Aye, ma'am!" Cried a few voices in reply.