@mister_surreal: [I was just scouting the place out. I feel like you've got a lot on your plate, so I just more or less wanted to let you know he's interested in the Sanctum without actually engaging yet. Don't feel like you have to respond immediately.]
Sanctum of Cryptic Sources (CVnU Living/Public Location)
As Mister Surreal would look down at the girl with vast concern and accompanying focus, the corner of his eye would just barely catch the devious smile of the adorable demoness that found and a comfortable position on the bed that lay near the ill goddess. He didn't appreciate the response to the situation, but he would going to allow the small annoyance to slip out of the view of his attention as he found that Ezra's condition would need to be tended to. "This place is gifted with natural healing properties that will eventually relieve her of all medical conditions. The time it will take however is another story in its entirety."
With his face turned towards Ms. Samara, the sorcerer's eye would catch the flickering of the portal that he had left open, causing him to quickly seal the tear in space-time with the flick of his wrist. However, it would be just moments after the action had been done that he would once again feel another presence appear within the Sanctum, this one being rather different than the one that he had felt when he sensed Samara's presence. This one felt off and was unlike any other that he had felt before, almost other worldly. The notion did not sit well with the magic user in the slightest, and that idea would be shown clearly on his face.
Wearing a new visage of distress towards an unknown presence, the already on edge Surreal would take extra precaution when dealing with this new visitor inside of his home. Looking back down at Ezra, he would give her a look of sadness and empathy as he would decrease his look of militaristic steel and soften his face for the girl. Turning back to the childish angel of the fallen, he would give a more serious look as his gaze would be casted down on her. He did not know the girl very well and he was not sure to what extent he should trust her especially with how apathetic she seemed to be regarding the passing events.
Pausing for a moment, he would feel the being in the sanctum and look once back at Ezra before making a decision. "Ms. Samara, I have just felt a new presence within the sanctum. If you are able to defend yourself, I would appreciate it if you could go inspect what it is." He would look back down at Ezra with weary eyes. "I don't feel comfortable leaving Ezra out of my sight." The sorcerer knew that sending the demoness out by herself was a big gamble in of itself, the already questionable action being compounded by the ambiguity of the one that had entered. However, Surreal would see that it was a risk that he would be willing to take.
The Immortal Multiversal Judge, High Queen Isharadescended upon the Earth with the intentions of casting judgment. In an attempt to seek an audience with the Queen, Maya's cousin Zeon attacked the cosmic Court of Courts stealing a book so ridiculously powerful its presence on Earth threatened the security of the entire multiverse. Uncharacteristically, the High Queen retaliated unleashing a being so powerful, she couldn't be contained in a singular Universe. Thee Championess would be no problem for the Power Princess, but the High Queen would and could reduce Maya to ashes with little effort. At the current moment, the High Queen was undergoing a bit of a metamorphosis; she was supposed to remain partial but her time in this universe was making her more...mortal. Which meant time was running out.
Her father would deal with Shayla, but if at any point the High Queen became involved in Earth's affairs they would be in trouble. Like her father, Maya's grip on her humanity was fading; her heart didn't give off strong emotions to mortal affairs anymore, and she needed to do something before she no longer cared.
'There had to be a way' she thought'. That thought leads her here, to the fabled Sanctum of Cryptic Sources, a proverbial library of archaic magic, occult practices filled with a congress of people like her--people cursed with magic and mystic arts.
Despite being one of the most powerful beings on the planet, the Cardinal Princess wasn't permitted to enter via her usual means. Strong Wards, and protections spells suspended her ability to Warp--which told her two things.
One, The information contained here was so important that someone took the time to ensure even the most powerful warpers were ineffective, and two the person that put the spells on was just if not more powerful than she was.
Releasing a sigh, not for nothing; but for the situation brewing in Valor. Unknown to most, but Maya's Quantum Consciousness was a product of the 3rd Society, allowing her to bypass normal communication means and peer directly into Society servers. She sighed because it would be her next destination--Ada. She had the book.
Knocking on the door, she hoped to speak directly to the curator of the sanctum. A man she'd heard whispers about but never actually met. But when blessed with immense arcane abilities like they both were sometimes introductions weren't needed. @mister_surreal
@mister_surreal: @samara_moreau: @farseeker
Ezra would remain unconscious as Surreal transferred her about the Sanctum, even with the blanket wrapped around her the stamina of the princess would take some time to recover. For the mean time she slept unaware of what was going around her surroundings and during her slumber she would remember memories of her past.
Her memory flowing through was a time of her youth when she first made friends with the few godlings that existed in Anor Londo.
@farseeker: @mister_surreal: @oraculi:
Samara smiled kindly, much differently from before, as she picked a few feathers from the princess's dirtied hair. She did, however, let out a small laugh near the end. "I'm sure she'll be fine soon, but I do hope you have a shower, though." The devilish girl then grew quiet and looked outside with some concern. "Oh, so you also felt it." She ran her hand through her hair thoughtfully.
Black smoke would begin to emerge from her body as her clothing and body quickly vanished. A disembodied voice rang out playfully from the darkened air around them. "Keep an eye on the urchin, then. I'll come back some enough." After the lively girl made sure Surreal had coughed a few times from the Stygian smoke, she wafted out from room to room and, finding a fireplace, into the air above. She seemed to be simply ordinary smoke as she watched from above whatever the presence's strange origin was...
@farseeker: @oraculi: @samara_moreau:
Matthew would watch with calm eyes as he witnessed Samara remove a few feathers off of Ezra's flustered head, admiring the care that she was beginning to show to the girl that directly contrasted her previously apathetic demeanor. But he would quickly gain an expression of interest when Samara had revealed that she was somewhat aware of the presence that would be felt throughout the building. It would seem to the mage that there was certainly more to the demoness that met the eye. While many demons possessed enhanced senses, being able to detect a particular presence in a place clouded with magical energy was no small feat.
But his thoughts on the matter were not to be suited just for the prospect of her being able to detect such things, as it would be displayed that Samara was capable of many curious things. That idea would flow into the eyes and mind of the sorcerer, just had the ominous cloud of smoke that Smara would allow to flow into the area. Not wanting any to end up within the lungs of Ezra or himself, he would force a small gust of air away from himself and the goddess, eyeing Smara about her rude remark before watching her leave. Afterwords, Surreal's eyes would once again turn to the Ezra, wondering what lay within her mind.
@farseeker: @samara_moreau: @mister_surreal:
Memories of her adventures with her childhood friends rushed by during Ezra's slumber. Centuries for humans were only years for an Anor Londorian but every second Ezra had spent with them was ingrained in Ezra's memory such was the mind of an Anor Londorian, the princess began to recall the routines she always had with her four best friends for example in one she was always picking up Astol for he was the clumsy one that lost balance then there was Caitha her strength second to Ezra herself and the two would spar competitively against each other but time and time again Caitha would throw the fight so Ezra would win.
Her other two friends, Zavaros and Ivara would not escape from the memories that she adored but as all things there was a beginning and there was an end and those memories of nostalgia would come to a close. Her last memory of her friends would begin to come back to haunt her
My friends they were my friends
A rift in time and space would open, and out of it would be a man dressed in tattered clothing, drenched in blood and sweat that carried from his face, down to his boots. He would stand for a few moments before succumbing to his pain and weakness, ultimately collapsing down onto the floor, painting the wood that it was composed off in mild red. He would lie there for a few seconds before his enchanted cloak would goad him into moving upwards, the action compelling the man to bring his arm beneath himself and force his way back into a standing position. His new drive was to get to a place where he could truly gain some rest.
He slowly limped his way over to a nearby chair, grabbing onto multiple items as he made his way along the room as he tried with his might to keep himself from falling back down onto the floor. While his right hand would be used to support him, his left hand would be used as means contain some of the blood that was spilling out of his torso. As he inched closer to the piece of furniture, he would not allow single sound to escape his throat and out of his lips, only the thumping of heavy boots would be heard as he made his way there. Taking a final step, he would stop at the object and fall into it with a grunt, having little energy left to spare.
Raising his head back, he would allow the events of his most recent venture to play out in his mind. It was a different reality than the one that most were accustomed to, one that made little sense to those who would be visited it, and even less to those who dwelled there. He had been called upon by the masters to take part in their conflict, to do battle with those who disagreed with their principles an actively oppose them. Being given his orders, he would go out and take part in a conflict that would span several months, killing thousands and beings in the process, all the while having to contend with more with each one slain.
He led a troop of magic users like himself into the battle, most of whom were not lucky as he was. And by the time it was over, their blood had washed over the various worlds that they had been sent to in order to keep the opposition at bay. The very same opposition that had unleashed attacks that shook the fabric of reality and broke the foundation of worlds. And this would go on for many months, but the man would have been gone for only a few hours, like any person would after they had finished another day at work. But unlike others, he work was never truly complete. Because he was not any other person, he was the Sorcerer Supreme.
This sorcerer, Mister Surreal, would steal some time for himself as he rested his head against the back of his chair, raising one hand to heal his wounds with various mystic symbols emerging from their own other worldly source. He sit there for a few minutes, almost gaining some bliss as he would try to sleep, only to sense someone knocking on the front door. His eyes would creep open, as he slowly rose upwards, struggling somewhat to move in his position. While his wounds had nearly completed their healing process, Surreal was still no condition be moving about. With a heavy sigh, he would create another portal.
Outside of the sanctum would be the woman that stood before the building, and not too far from her would be a man that would come down the sidewalk. He strode in a casual way and had a somewhat vagabond like appearance, one that would become more and more apparent as he got closer to the woman. Finally stopping just a a few feet from her, he would look up at the building as he put his hands into his pockets. "You know, they say that the guy who lives inside is a quake. Or that he's some kind of sorcerer. A couple of people go in there sometimes, but few really know what happens to them." Only after his words had been projected, he would he take a look at the girl. "So, why knock on that door?" He said with a weak smile.
@oraculi: @farseeker: @mister_surreal:
Tendrils of smog would begin to form in the air. They would soon gather into a smoky pillar, nearly black in color, directly before the Seeker. Two red eyes seemed to gleam playfully from within the column. The haze first appeared to take the shape of arms and legs before growing in detail, taking the fully humanoid shape of a petite woman.
"You do know that there's a front door, right?" The pillar dispersed as she spoke, revealing a very attractive young girl, well-dressed and decorated with both a frisky smile on her lips and a cheerful look in her eyes. She held a cigarette in her teeth, which seemed to light by itself. Samara loved being a showman.
She put her hands inside her pockets and eyed his spear somewhat cautiously from some meters away, ready to defend herself. "Hm, I suppose you're not here for some light reading." She mockingly blew some smoke his way and raised her hands, showing she was unarmed. "May I ask why, then?"
The form of a young woman materializes from churning smoke. Small. Attractive. Short cut hair, a comely face, lit cigarette tucked away behind a mischievous grin. Charm drips from her. By appearance, she is harmless.
I doubt it is so.
She demonstrates that she is unarmed. An impossibility on her part. She wields forces beyond comprehension, those viewed only in the fevered dreams of prophets. She asks why I am here. A question answered simply enough.
"The girl. The one dragged off the streets. She was unwell. The magician pulled her away while she was hardly conscious. I do not know what his intentions are. I cannot allow him to do as he likes to whom he likes simply because he has the means to do so."
I pause to look her over. She stands between me and the end of the room, where he might be.
"And you? I suppose you are here for some 'light reading'?"
My shoulders tense behind the spear as I unfold its bladed tip from the steel hewn haft.
The familiar scent of ozone pierces the air. Lightning arcs between knuckles and shaft, shaft and blade. I circle the girl, lightning licking my armor. Meanwhile, the lighted door at room's end grows larger. The seemingly infinite hall begins to fall behind me. Only she stands between me and that light. I maneuver to approach it, steady steps behind a rapid and unsteady pulse. I am ready for whatever might come.
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