5541/The Bloody Throne

The Bloody Throne
Date of Scene:	31 October 2017
Location:	Lumiere
Synopsis:	Another Halloween passes uneventfully in Lumiere.
Cast of Characters:	974, Tomoe, Leyanne Mace, Count Kord, Priscilla

---

Carna (974) has posed:
    Letters have invitation have gone out to various people throughout the Multiverse, inviting them to attend a special party in Lumiere. Masks will provided so that the Living can join the festivities in the land of the dead. However, the warning has been included that if the masks are not returned before midnight, the living shall become the identity they have assumed permanently, and thus dead themselves.

    Arrival in Lumiere is through a sheer drop through a pit in the Cavern of Life and Death (on the death side of things). A huge mound of bones, with a magically long fall through utter blackness, until eventually floating down to land upon a vast expanse of black marble. Ordinarily, the only features are a huge stone gate covered in designs of skeletons arranged such that it appears they are either trying to hold the gate shut or pull it open.

    However, on this night there are two additional features. There is a covered-wagon of sorts that has been coverted into a mask stand. There, a hook-beak-masked figure in concealing hood and robes sits behind the counter, surrounded by masks of all description.

    The second feature is the immense fog bank that rolls through, sending wisps along the marble ground like the fingers of ghosts. It is a wall of vapor that leaves only a comparatively thin strip of the arrival point for Lumiere free and visible. One could wander in that fog forever. Thankfully, there are guide points. Dimly visible in the fog are what look like old-fashioned street lanterns, or at least judging the placement of the hovering, indistinct light from here. Visibility is sharply limited, so not very many of these light sources can be seen for now, but following them should reveal more details.

    It appears that there are a number of unfamiliar faces here. In addition to the hook-nosed Blue Scholar, Enark, who has come in a costume of his own (last year he was Karnak the Magnificent. Now he seems to be the Phantom of the Opera). In addition to him, however, is a small crowd of living people. Many of them look as though they really don't belong here, and it's hard to say how they even made it through the dangers of the Cavern of Death in the first place. Others are clearly experienced explorers or combatants. Some wear costumes. Others do not. While most seem nervous, or outright terrified, one, a man in hiking gear, seems to just be weary. Another man and wife are holding hands tightly, their expressions somewhere between hope and desperation.

    There are what looks like military personnel, as well as a man in a business suit who engages every new arrival in frenzied, fast-paced, manic conversation.

    Did they all get letters too?

Tomoe has posed:
This is not the first time that it has happened to Tomoe, nay it's far from the first time. She was almost expecting the letter. She took it out of the mail box, she'd looked it over an readies herself for another run to this yearly party.

Now

She recalled the rules from the year before. So she'd had her things in order she knew about the rules from last year and kept them well in mind. She makes for the Wagon and she looks to the masked figure for a moment.

The fog bank is not something she recalls from the last time, she does however. She will fall in to get her own mask she notes the other people and looks concerned very concerned that people who seem to not be the sort of crowd she runs with are here. Given how dangerous this world can be to the living, are they living or are they from this world just another period of time she has no experience with? That is something she does not know. Tomoe bite a bullet here as she moves towards the group of soldiers.

"Did all of you get letters for this too?"

Leyanne Mace has posed:
Leyanne Mace arrives shortly after Tomoe, pausing to look up the 'bottomless' pit for a moment. She smirks to herself and holds a brief air guitar pose, before walking to the wagon. She picks up her mask and starts to walk into the fog, her tail swishing around happily behind her. She resists the urge for a moment as she's looking at her mask.

"We all wear masks, metaphorically speaking..." the mouse mutters, before putting her mask on and adjusting the straps or string around her ears. Then she wanders towards Tomoe and the others.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord breathes a sigh as he approaches this event, having passed through the area before this... and looked behind himself with a grimace behind his helmet. When he came upon the man handing out masks, he let out a sigh of impatience and assent to him, and reached up to remove his helmet. The helmet is placed on the stand, and a mask is retrieved, likely because he got one handed to him. After fitting the mask to his face, he let out another sigh and looked around at the others, his inhuman eyes aglow behind his mask.

    "... what are these fools doing here," he remarks tiredly, upon noticing all the others who really seem random and out of place.

    He pointedly avoids the manic-looking fellow in the business suit, ignoring his words and walking away from him when he tries to initiate.

Priscilla has posed:
    This again.

    On some strange level, Priscilla actually can't believe it's been over an entire year with Lumiere hovering around in the background. Despite the uniquely nightmarish scenarios it always presents, which seem to stretch out forever while one is experiencing them, collectively they feel as if they should be far less, like a jumbled rush of bad dreams experienced in the arbitrary subjective time of a single night. On one hand, it's a little depressing to think about. On the other, it at least makes for /one/ situation, for once, that she's already familiar with the rules of.

    Priscilla's ability to pick masks is still utterly garbage. The best she can manage is 'pick something female' and 'pick something that looks relatively like her own visual age and vaguely like her social class' just so she doesn't have to pretend to be a poor cobbler's boy or some swarthy blacksmith or something. Last time had already been awkward enough, pretending to have a fiance and all.

    The presence of other people is a complication. One that is /almost/ brand new, though she, Finna, and Enark had advance warning of this new snag the other day, though Priscilla still has the barest clue as to why they would have gotten invitations. "Lady Tomoe. If thou hast any mind for these men and women, convince them to go further not. This place is not one for idle curiosity. Those that can adequately bear arms, and otherwise hath some other mission here, shouldst be made to fall in with us, not left to wander about on their own."

    Technically, Priscilla isn't actually Tomoe's boss at all. They have a working history, though, and Tomoe is always the one concerned about collateral in lives. Priscilla would maybe warn them away and protect them in a hypothetical scenario where they are not severely pressed for time, however, midnight does not wait.

Carna (974) has posed:
    The soldiers, upon being approached, look warily at Tomoe. Exchanging looks, one of them replies with, "Maybe. What about you?" Doesn't seem they're very willing to divulge information. Though they look like they belong in the U.S. marines, or maybe a mercenary outfit that uses surplus uniforms from such, their equipment is a mix of high-tech firearms and an assortment of mildly magical talismans and charms. Though without the ability to sense magic, they mostly just look like incongruous ornamentation and baubles.

    When Priscilla speaks around the others, many of whom add compound their discomfiture about being in the land of the dead by gawking at the Elites, those same soldiers just glower, and a toussle-haired one says, "We have a mission, yeah. You could say that."

    The man in the pair of young couple defensively puts an arm around his companion, while the woman shakes her head wildly at the suggestion they leave, or at least don't proceed. "We have to. This is our last chance. We've tried everything else. If we give up here, we... We--" her voice is starting to break as verges on hysterical, but her partner hushes her and makes soothing noises, before turning challenging eyes on Priscilla, though tinged with fear. "We appreciate your concern, but we also have a reason for accepting the invitation."

    Enark seems perplexed by all the new faces himself, but living people showing up in Lumiere has been going on for over a year now. He wasn't here for the first arrivals in April of last year, but he heard about them. He shrugs it all off. Anyone who made it past all the animated dead in the Cavern of Death has to be an Elite of some kind, right? Or at least able to take care of themselves? ...Unless the invitation somehow protected them, allowing utterly inappropriate people to come here. Though given their encounter with other living folk at the Chopping Grounds...

    Well, it's not like he has any claim to this place. He can't deny people access if they received letters. "Ah, while you may have reasons to be here... I do agree with her majesty. Lumiere is a very dangerous place. I recommend that you exercise caution, and stay with the group."

    The suited man latches onto Enark with an arm around his shoulder. "Right, right, yes, of course, good man, sharp mind, sharper nose, haha, quite the beak you've got there, but I digress! Lots of laughs, lots of excitement, lots and lots and lots! We're not going anywhere, so don't you worry, nor you, nor you, nor you over there all eager to set out! Let's stick to the group, gotta' use team work, synergy, group dynamics, to overcome the obstacle of the thing, in the place, that we are all hurtling towards, now, now, now!"

    Enark just stammers out, "A-ah... Y-yes." as he tries to free himself.

    The hiker keeps his silence, and just drinks from a canteen as he eyes the mask stand, and then reads over his invitation letter again. He then moves to retrieve a mask, and a short time later, those hesitating to do so follow suit. Once masks are picked out by everyone, and they have had an opportunity to make any greetings or socializing they wish to (or don't wish to), the Mask Maker speaks to those assembled.

    "Welcome, adventurers, old and new
    The dead of Lumiere welcome you too.
    Illusion of the past, you venture to.
    But don't think that 'matters not what you do.

    To the dragon queen, a third throne waits.
    The shadow lord, the one whom he hates.
    Star-traveller, a home, and eternal rest.
    Queen's knight, iron flower, true heart's test.
    Hunter of knowledge, beware, you shall be hunted in turn.
    But do not fear too much. Observe; try to learn."

Carna (974) has posed:
    tWith its rhyme done, the androgynous figure points towards the hovering light ball in the fog with a crooked, skeletal finger. "Stick to the path, to finish your tasks.

    Return before midnight, your borrowed masks.
    If you don't become who you are, before midnight arrives,
    Join the dead, you will, in exchange for your lives."

    A number of the living here seem off-put by all this. Several try to laugh it off, like this is all just one big joke to try to scare them off. They seem to think this is just a seasonal production of some kind, and dismiss all warnings. The ones who don't laugh are the ones with the most intensity, the ones serious about being here for whatever reason, even if they might not know what they're in for.

    A small handfull seem to think better of all this, and decide to stay behind, taking the warnings to heart.

    But no matter the reasons or behavior, those bearing both invitation and mask are able to walk into the fog. It recaches out to them almost, like something hungry.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Following the path for all is a simple matter for those bearing both mask and invitation or simply invitation and qualifications to approach. It is virtually impossible to get lost or stray from the course they must take. But when they eventually exit the deep fog, with its echoes of voices and noise of celebration, and appear on a winding road lined with walls of lit jack-o-lanterns on either side, and huge crowds venturing forth to currently-open iron-wrought gates vaster than canyon walls, and see the enormous Palace of the Crimson King ahead of them, the volume of the celebration may hit almost like a physical force. The fog passed along only echoes, a filtered version of what was waiting for them.

    And what is waiting for them is enormous indeed. A palace that makes a major metropolis look paltry by comparison, more lively than any place on a living world would have any right to be, and yet populated entirely by the Dead... And the internally-glowing Lit for that matter, the native Dead of Lumiere, in incedible numbers... Fireworks are detonating in the sky almost continuously, creating dazzling displays of spiders, pumpkins, skulls, what may be mystic runes of symbols associated with various groups or individuals unlikely to be recognized, and all manner of other things erupt into huge fiery explosions.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Crowds mill about, party, dance, eat, sing and perform, have mock battles, do more... Intimate things, despite the many people around them... They fill the huge front yard and the palace ground all arounds, seemingly wholly like living people, in appearance and mannerism. The only difference is the total absence of biological life signs, and the material that composes them. The gigantic moon is still hanging there in the sky, a light source unseen in the Lumiere of the present. A full moon, seemingly so close as to be in danger of colliding with the world they all stand within. The road winds down, and down, and down behind them now, the foggy place they entered still there, but off to the side somewhere, with the path that comes up from somewhere below branching out into many other paths and roads that lead to well-lit towns and villages that canvas an expansive shoreline, with many, many sea-going vessels at rest.

    But compared to the enormous Palace, they are trifling things. And the invitation was to a party at the Palace of the Crimson King. So it seems clear where they are to go next.

    Some here have already been through this. Enark himself among them. But there are certain changes visited upon even the veterans of last year's celebration.

Carna (974) has posed:
    For Tomoe, she will bear the same form as she did before. Though whereas before she was merely identified as Dragon Knight Adair, this time she actually wears her form. Her attire has changed during the passage through the fog, becoming a mix of heavy armor and some sort of iron mesh. There is a definite dragon theme to it. As Tomoe learned last time within the illusion, Dragon Knights revere dragons, and try to emulate them. They do not hunt them, except in the sense of trying to find survivors among the largely extinct species.

    The armor does not weigh too much upon her, even without her strength. It is a more complete illusion than last time, but still mostly an illusion. Though that it has progressed in complexity is perhaps something of interest.

    Leyanne, being new to this party, does not seem to have the 'full package' that Tomoe does, but it is still notably more advanced than the mask she wears. She appears to be in something like a nun's attire, except belonging to the order of Urizen, a local religion of Lumiere. All in white, with a hood concealing all of her head except for her mouth, chin, and throat. Gold chains link the bottom of the mask to a collar, creating the appearance of her mouth being 'caged'. While there are no openings in the opaque veil that hides her face, she can see through it just fine, because what she is actually wearing is a mask that DOES have eye holes in it. The disguise, while visible to Leyanne, has no weight or substance. It's like she's wearing the very fog she passed through.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Kord, similarly, has a costume without solidity to it. He appears to be wearing not what one might imagine for him, something vampiric, but rather, black silk wrapped all about. A combination of robe and cloak, with steel cables coiled tight about his head in place of hair, and a steel mask with bolts, narrow eye slits, and a fixed, smiling mouth. It is cinched at the waist, providing a narrowness of figure, and from the overall body shape... It appears...

    Count Kord will spend tonight as a woman.

    Priscilla's wardrobe change is probably no less off-putting for the one wearing it. A leather dress of red and black, with a rigid, flaring skirt, puffy pink half-sleeves, fingerless spider-web-pattern gloves, a white frill and black bow about her neck, and a red bat in her hair, with the addition of small black bat wings on her back. Spider-web tights and red leather boots complete her costume. Unfortunately, like Tomoe's it is more solid and 'real' than last year, where she only wore an identity. Though it weighs less and is less tight than the real thing would be, it is still physically there.

    The other living people who joined them get a similat treatment, the soldiers looking like skull-face-painted hunters from some ancient culture, the couple looking like a zombie bride and groom, the manic man now garbed in a red bespoke suit with devil horns on his head, and the hiker now appearing to be a werewolf or something. They, plus the ones who thought this was all an elaborate prank of some kind, are staggered by the sound and spectacle surrounding them.

    Enark just keeps looking like the Phantom of the Opera, because he's already dead.

    "Well," Enark says. "Let's enjoy ourselves, I suppose?"

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord frowned and held the mask in his hand while the Mask Maker spoke in rhyme at them. His wrinkled nose and his thin frown showed a certain level of disgust, the wrinkles in his apparently young face more obvious with this sour look he was giving the strange entity. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and carefully placed the mask on his face, and walked forward to the designated place.

    He couldn't help but marvel at their surroundings, on the way to the palace and when he reaches the party himself. He pauses to take in what all that there is to offer, and then... himself. Within the chaos going around him, people might not hear the low, inhuman growl that pours from his mouth at the sight of the illusion that has been placed on him. His hands ball into fists, and he feels his teeth grind. And then... he just laughs to himself, and turns to wander off into the crowd, seeking all that which looks different and interesting.

    No use being mad. It's a party, and he can see the humor in it once the shock faded.

Leyanne Mace has posed:
Leyanne Mace blinks a little, looking around at the others. She spends a while marevelling at the mask, listening to the warnings. Underneath it all, her fur fluffs out slightly in surprise at the costume, nodding a little. "Okay." She says quietly. "Sticking with the groul sounds like a plan." She nods, deciding to stay near Priscilla and Tomoe. Back before Tiny pulled a Jack Osbourne and went off to discover herself, she remembers... not exactly getting on with Pris, but being somewhat on the same team.

Inwardly, hidden behind the mask, Tiny is starting to wonder if this really was a good idea. When the invitation arrived, she tried to ignore it, but... her curiosity got the better of her...

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks to Leyanne for a moment and tilts her head a bit at her, she's yet to put her own mask on at this point as she's looking to the people. This is a hell of a complication this year, a very b big one. She had thought and Priscilla has just arrived, it was goo to see here and not unexpected that she would be here given her history with this world. She nodded at Priscilla's words.

"Right I'll see what I can do there."

Priscilla is not her boss no but they have such a long history of working together she's come to trust Priscilla's judgment and she could focus on trying to lessen collateral, she's going to try and talk people into going back that she can and those who she can't get them to come with them. She also knows how pressed for timne too she also knows about the tuime limit she also didn't expect Count Kord's costume but she doesn't think twice on it.

"Look if you got a job to be here, I will not stop you but suggest you come with us, the party I am with surived this last year and you have to be out by midnight no ifs and or buts and if you do not I beg you go back to the warp gate ane go home this place is dangerous, very dangerous."

She looks really worried now at this but people have free will the right to chose she won't hestate to drag any of these people out if she can when it's time to go. Last year she was only seen as the Dragon Knight, she finds her armor shifting changing it seems to have a good heft to it she adjusts her mask a bit ahas has not forgotton the stuff she learned last time. Cord's Costume is not expected but she doesn't comment on it and she looks to Priscilla and then to Enark She iwll try to get the people to come with them nd she's gong to fall in somewhat with them as the party move on. She doesn't even think about how her costume is more solid this year, is she getting a stronger connection with this world? For the moment is lost on her. She looks to Priscillia's costume and simpley gives her a nod. BEfore she looks to Leyanne.

"Yes, when it gets close to midnight we have to clear out. Or we never will be able to leave."

She pauses to look at her own, costume again, it's so much better than what Cardinal has saddled her with back home.

Priscilla has posed:
    Seeing a little pride and cagey stubbornness from soldiers is not exactly anything new to Priscilla. Practically everyone with a habit of wearing a helmet she had ever known has been like that (Kord included). Hearing whom she had presumed to basically be tourists, speak with such desperation, however, inserts an additional piece into a fledgeling jigsaw puzzle she already doesn't like. That kind of tone just screams 'dead child' on all the levels that make her mentally frown. Of course the living wouldn't just end up in Lumiere after all this time by accident. It had to be taking advantage of them.

    "Very well. I hath no particular right to dissuade thee from any approach but sheer practicality. I imagine mine own aims here art less noble than many. Simply knoweth that thou art less prepared than thou shouldst be, no matter how well thou believeth thou art." The poem. Of all goddamn things, more thrones.

    At least, Priscilla assumed that taking on even more political responsibility would be the worst thing of tonight. There is even, very briefly, a point at which she thinks it might not be so bad, when she really just can't help but crack a smile at seeing what form poor Kord is forced into. Tomoe barely has to change at all, and Leyanne did like costumes, but the indignity foisted on the stoic champion of Yveltal elicits a poorly disguised cough-laugh from Priscilla at the exact moment it gets a growl from Kord.

    Then Priscilla takes a look at what she's wearing.

    Oh.

    Oh.

    This is one of those very few reminders of what Priscilla is still, at her core, actually like. As the First of the Concord, there is a certain amount of professionalism expected from her in the field these days, and as the Arch Lord of Lordran, a certain level of pride and 'shit-she-doesn't-tolerate-anymore', so it that tends to get in the way, but this is one of those times where even neo-Priscilla just has to Deal With It like every other poor bastard Elite on the ground.

    Specifically, even a casual glance at the crossbreed confirms that she looks as if she's about to combust. There is a peculiar mix of tension, embarrassment, and mortified resignation about her that is difficult to put into words, but instantly understood in the redness of her face, the stiffness of her posture, and the agitated cat twitching of her tail. There is an attempt to push down and flatten her skirt, but it really doesn't work that way. Who wears gloves with no fingers?! What's the point?!

    "L-let us primarily be on the lookout for further information pertaining to the present." Priscilla says to Enark, with a slightly but unmistakable stutter. Wow, it's been a while since that last happened. "The . . . time last . . . i-involved factual precedent of obscure events that didst help us greatly in the location of the Marble Guardian, amongst other things." After a few seconds, she finally takes a real deep breath, and then does her best to march confidently through the castle grounds, looking a little comically serious in doing so.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Having to yell over the voices of others to be heard means that mingling is something of a challenge outside. Whether they remain outside or head up the huge flight of steps to the doors leading within the Palace, and all its many additional stairs, hallways, and so on, there is, in addition to the celebratory atmosphere, a faint aura of unease. There is a faint coppery smell in the air, identifiable to those with adequate senses as blood, in large volumes. But it's the land of the dead during a Halloween celebration, is it not? Maybe that, and the spooky feeling in the air, are just part of the experience.

    Some conversation is gleaned, however, amidst all the partying. Some of it with the Elites in particular, some of it between the other Lit -- the native dead of Lumiere, rather than the hollowed our monsters that have replaced them after gobbling up the Lit and becoming a patchwork of various souls.

    "Did you hear? The King has some big announcement."

    "Let's hope it's not like last year's. There was some kind of rant against others, followed by an assassination attempt."

    "No need to worry about that. With the borders of Lostrata locked down so tightly, there's nothing slipping in this time."

    "Are you kidding? They still haven't been able to do anything about all those Shadows!"

    "Well, as long as we're out here, we aren't going to get caught up in anything, right?"

    -----

    "Have you noticed all the Purifiers around?"

    "Yeah, what's up with that?"

    "I didn't think that the King had the kind of influence to get angels to guard his party..."

    "Oh, come on. You know that they go where they want and do what they want. No one commands them."

    "Except Urizen, you mean."

    "Well, he's not around anymore. None of them are. That's why we have the Lords of Silence."

    "I wonder how the replacement for the Lord of Fire is doing in his training. I don't know how long it's been since I heard about him... Sol was it?"

    -----

Carna (974) has posed:
    "Another year, another party..."

    "Has it really been a year?"

    "Who knows? It's not like there's any way to tell time here. I'm just so tired of being here. I want it to end. I want to ascend to the next plane."

    "Don't talk like that, man. You know the link has been broken. There's no way to go back. What's moving on going to change?"

    "It will change ME at least. That's what I hear happens. When you let go of the person you used to be, you lose the baggage of life. It's like... Transforming or something?"

    "Listen to yourself. It hasn't been that long, probably. Come on, I heard of a place where you can find a bunch of clocks. Maybe we can borrow one and then we'll have a better idea of--"

    FORBIDDEN ACTION.

    "AAAAAH!"

    "Wh-wha--"

    DO NOT VIOLATE PROTOCOL. ONLY WARNING. VIOLATION WILL RESULT IN PURIFICATION.

    "We're sorry! We'll never do it again!"

    "C-C'mon! You can't talk to those things! They're like machines! Let's get out of here!"

Carna (974) has posed:
    Between the various conversations ongoing, some trivial, some of great importance for how casually they are discussed, the interaction between two Lit and a huge figure in sleek, angelic-looking armor, and a featureless, blank face plate, is a bit more notable than most. What can only be a Purifier simply descended upon the pair the moment they started even TALKING about violating the rule of Lumiere that the Dead not be permitted any mechanism to tell time by. It hovers still for long moments, just standing on the air as though such were solid beneath needle-point feet, as Lit scatter every which way to not be the next ones to catch its attention.

    With the party mood somewhat stifled outside, frivolous conversation becomes harder to find or listen in on discretely, though thankfully it also results in a general decreae in the volume of the surroundings, at least temporarily. Going inside the Palace might be the next best course of action.

    Along the way they are addressed specifically. "Ah! Lady of Styx! We're so glad that you could join the celebration! We are blessed by your presence. Will you offer us the sacrament of Water?" Leyanne is accosted by a small crowd of Lit who seem to perceive her as a priestess of sorts. Though the title they address her by is different from the one they know the attire to belong to. Lady of Styx? Not 'Peacemaker'?

    People bow before Kord and step back out of his way, when they see 'her'. Unlike with Leyanne, few verbal greetings are offered. More akin to deference. There are occasional muttered, 'milady's thrown around, but no one seems intent on engaging whomever it is they think Kord to be.

    Tomoe receives a mix of warm greetings and suspicious (or perhaps worried?) looks. Last year, they had been relatively pleased to see her. Dragon Knights were apparently reputable and honorable warriors of some kind. But the situation and reception appear to have changed.

    In addition to being addressed as 'Blood Mother' by those Priscilla is greeted by, she also gets hit on repeatedly, by men, women, a large furry white house cat that attempts to groom her tail, and at one point by a spindle-legged mechanical spider-torch thing that brings her a night-blooming flower. Enark tries to play bodyguard by shooing them away, and gets dirty looks, insults, and at one point gets candied apples thrown at his head for his efforts.

Carna (974) has posed:
    While Tomoe's and Priscilla's warnings are mostly heard, especially by the ones determined to be here, the others are so overwhelmed by everything that they've already begun to wander off into the crowd. Fools can't be helped if they're unwilling to accept the aid. Hopefully they'll at least make it out of here before midnight. A thunderous ringing that can be both heard and felt begins to chime from somewhere in the area, sending resonating waves through everyone and everything. From the clamour in the wake of the bell's silence, it seems the Crimson King's announcement is going to begin soon.

    The werewolf hiker, the zombie couple, the tribal soldiers, and the devil-suit man, are somewhat lost amidst all this, due to unfamiliarity, so they are sticking close to the group. But they also seem to realize that whatever they seek is ahead of them, within the Palace itself.

    For one of those present, Kord, something unusual may be seen if he looks up at the staggeringly high palace.

Carna (974) has posed:
Echoed Palace (Outside) - <Lumiere>
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    The Palace of the Crimson King is dyed a deep red, turning everything blood-hued. Thick blobs of black and red seem to run down the walls and drip down from the sky without source. The blood splatters on everyone and everything around, without being reacted to by the milling crowd. It looks as though a swirling vortex of blood lies directly over the palace's highest point. Already large enough to be an entire sea unto itself, it looks like it is gradually expanding.

    The walls of the palace, the decorations, the ground, are all stained and splashed with liquid red. This vision flickers unsubstantially between the 'normal' version of the palace. It seems as though phantoms, red silhouettes without features, wander amongst the Dead, as unseen as the blood. Somewhere high within the Palace, a red light that is almost liquid itself, shines through a broad, open window.

    The sound of the bell came from the same location.

    The Darkness tells Kord that the answers he seeks are here.

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Contents
Bartrum <Werewolf>
Count Kord <Shadow-Seeker Belara>
David Aus <Business Devil>
Enark <Phantom>
Leyanne Mace <Witch Mara>
Tomoe <Dragon Knight Adair
Priscilla <Blood Mother Vivian>
Rosa and Louis <Zombie Couple>
Skull Squadron <Death Hunters>

Priscilla has posed:
    Oh Lords why. Why hast thou forsaken us. Whatever a 'Blood Mother' is supposed to be, apparently she is an absurdly popular figure, and within minutes, Priscilla is practically having to fend them off with a stick, and poor Einar is a rather short one. The worst she reacts is to the white cat, who reminds her of a certain other garbage cat, and also gets inappropriate with the tail. The best she takes to any of them is, oddly, the torch thing, because the flower is genuinely kind of thoughtful. Priscilla decides to keep that one. Is this the fame of her assumed personality, or the power of a change of wardrobe???

    A little exhausted and exasperated already, she is unsurprised by the appearance of the purifier. "I see now the full extent of what thou had meant, Sir Enark." she remarks upon the way the Lit scatter like frightened bugs before it. "Though perhaps their function was wise back whence the wheel of reincarnation turned, they art clearly rigid and obsolete things whence the dead awaiting new life became trapped here eternally. That is not to say that I see the point in checking time, however. Now it couldst only serve the purpose of woefully reminding one of how long ago they had departed the world above." She does take a second to briefly explain to Leyanne, being a rare new arrival to this place, that clocks and calendars are forbidden in Lumiere, since tracking time keeps people attached to their old lives, and hinders them from moving on to new ones.

    "Hast it truly been one year in this past incarnation of Lumiere, however? Art we appearing one year past the celebration last, or hath it perhaps been a time longer? Much hath seemingly changed, as much as it ever stays the same here. There is a very different climate." Priscilla doesn't trust it too well, but knows that going about visibly heavily armed will clash badly with whatever charming and desirable identity she has assumed, and at least expects it would afford her some protection from the usual kind of conspirators or unruly crowd members. Putting on a brave face, she does her best to play nice with those that come forward to interact with her, and tries to prompt a little bit of contextual information out of each one, fishing a little bit for current events, mentions of the Shadows (knowing that the last Halloween was recently after their appearance), the state of the King of Lostrata, and other such trivial, but topical and easily researched things.

    If Leyanne needs the help, she'll inform her that the Styx is every bit the river of forgetfulness the usual legends attribute it, and has an associated religious order of bringing peace, closure, and healing to people.

Tomoe has posed:
Once more the Dragon Knight ha returned to this world and she is polite on to Priscilla she doe snot comment she does not laugh she simply nodes to her in reply.

"Shall we get going?"%

Though under her mask their is a sympathetic look as Priscilla has got saddled with situation much like she's dealing with she'll do her best to not make it worse for her. With he party moving on ahead she falls back into her role and keep with the group also keeping an eye on the other outsiders she also listens to what they pass the conversations are noted some trouble her but her welcome does make her seem confused for a second something's clearly has happened. She returns polite greeting but has to wonder what has happened it concerns her as they find out more of the tale of this world's past she also grimaces they lost some of the people here hopefully some of them will make it out she's given them her warning she has to focus on the party she can save. Damn it she does not like where this could be going but what is there for her to do? She recalls how things went last time she was here it seems the political affairs have continued to go on it seems. She also will keep track of the time and do what she can if a chance presents herself to guide people back to the exist before time is up.

Dragon Knight Adair is on her best behaviour she also thinks about how clocks and the keeping of time are forbidden here, it troubles her but this is not her world. She also seems to be escorting to the Blood Mother to any of the other guests and she must wonder why are the other people here? She is here to learn more of this world's past that she might help fix it one day.

She will interact with other party going and try to catch up on thing for she had been long on the hunt for dragons to protect after all and had been away from the populated places of the world...maybe she can gleam some more information out of the beings or is it memories here?

Leyanne Mace has posed:
Leyanne Mace decides to walk around and stay quiet near Priscilla and the Tomoe, following rule one of the idiot's survival guide: Stay near smart people. She doesn't say much, figuring staying silent is the best way to remain in-character for a nun until she's actually adressed. Still, in the back of her mind, she wonders how many eight-foot nuns there were back when everybody was alive even as she gazes over the architecture in wonder, filing and saving all this away for later. Her hood moves as antennae and ears listen to the various conversation, the mouse-nun moving closer to Tomoe and Priscilla.

"Do you smell that?" She mutters, the Cockney twang to her voice making it clear who it is. If her height, and the tail poking out from under the robes, weren't enough. "Blood. And there's bad juju in the air." a pause as she listens to the warning about clocks. "I have... a fairly accurate cl-, er... thingy... regulating my heartbeat, that won't cause problems right?"

She stays quiet to listen to Priscilla's explaination about the Styx, nodding quietly and filing the information away. After a moment's pause. "That makes a lot of sense here in a place of the dead, that the Styx is... so important."

When she's asked to perform a blessing to Lit, Leyanne looks briefly lost, before making a vaguely religions hand-gesture with her left hand. "May you find your peace." She says, hoping it works.

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord can get used to this treatment. At least he takes some amusement out of being called a lady, because it's both untrue and coming from people long since destroyed. He tolerates their deference for whatever figure he is, and just to play up his character, a hand goes out and rather brazenly pushes aside one of the party goers as he goes about checking out what there is to see. He does not speak a word to them -- if they act like peons, they get treated as such. He has no interest in finding what tidbits of information these cockroaches can provide, these things that are mere echoes of what was.

    But there's something else to this. Something he hadn't quite... /seen/. When the bell rings, and the darkness whispers to him, he looks up and there's...

    Blood. Everywhere. Coating everyone. He hesitates in such a way that he manages to startle someone, and when he spots the figures milling about unnoticed, even by his companions, he pauses as if ready to point them out to them.

    He thinks better of it. The vision was uncomfortable to look at.

    He lifts up into the air, abruptly taking flight to head up, up, up toward the window. He bowls over one of the party goers with the gust of wind from his takeoff. He's heading for that light, to see through the window and know.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Enark pulls on the collar of his cloak at the sight of the Purifier, clearly almost as terrified of it as the other Lit, despite this being an illusion of sorts. He dodged such things every time he tried to collect clocks for his forbidden collection. Unfortunately, even as he nods and makes nervous noises of agreement with Priscilla, the soldiers don't respond as well as everyone else to the Purifier's appearance.

    They raise their weapons and take aim on the Law Golem. However the 'angel' seems to pay them no mind, either because their costumes make everyone around them accept them as what they appear to be, or because it doesn't consider them a threat. Given the description of their capabilities given by Enark in the past, it could very well be either or both.

    After awhile of being ignored, the men appear to decide they aren't going to be attacked and lower their firearms. They then begin heading for the palace itself. The bell is calling them there, and the clock is ticking (figuratively). They have to be out of here before midnight.

    Priscilla's information-fishing results in hearing that just as the Crimson King promised last time, the borders of Lostrata have been sealed off, the others among the Five Kings, and their agents such as the legendary heroine Constance Lorethal, have been banished from the First Candle, and apparently there has been a military build-up and continued work on some kind of transportation system that will carry people directly to some kind of magic city at the top of Lumiere, where they can get to work fixing the Link between the Living World and Lumiere. Why they need soldiers for that is unknown, as is the basic nature of the transportation system.

    But more and more people have been hearing strange whispers, and that combined with the living shadow-creatures that have begun to infest everything are causing concern. That is why the celebration was being looked forward to, so that people could relieve some stress.

    The status of the Crimson King is less encouraging. Apparently rumors coming out of the court have been that he has been by himself a lot in his throne room, arguing with unseen or imaginary beings, ordering away all courtiers, nobles, and guards, and spending long periods of time wandering the palace halls muttering to himself. These are merely rumors, but the idea that their King may have succumbed to the ridiculous lengths of time that the Dead of Lumiere have existed, beyond the scope of what a human mind is meant to contain, and be falling into madness, is not a very consoling one. Though the fact he is still holding this party as normal, whether it's a year later or a hundred years later, might be a sign it is all but rumors after all.

Carna (974) has posed:
    The werewolf hiker scowls at his costume. "Poor taste." is all he mutters, the first words he has said so far, and moves after the soldiers. The devil man approaches one of the Lit and says, "Hey, the name's David, David Aus, you can call me David, what can I call you? I think I'll call you Bob, can I call you Bob, I'll call you Bob, so listen Bob, what exactly is a 'Blood Mother', I'm new 'round here, fresh off the boat, so to speak!"

    The poor unfortunate soul barraged by David stammers a bit and then says, "They provide Lifeblood to us. The creation of the Court Wizard of the Crimson King, Prospero. He has gifted it to the Blood Maidens, to share with us, and give us the feeling of life once more. Or that's what I heard. I haven't tried it myself. I haven't had the nerve to ask, because of the... Uhh... Method of--"

    "Say no more, say no more, save the salacious details, lest you burn off my ears!" David then turns, grinning to Priscilla, and calls out, "Hear that, Blood Mother? Bob here is interest in a dose of your fluids, the red kind, not whatver your mind is thinking of! So maybe you could co-mingle while I go on ahead! I'll seek more info, more intel, more MORE, and if I hear anything good, I'll be sure to share, for a reasonable recompense!" He winks and practically dances off in his devil-wears-prada shoes towards the palace, like most of the others.

    So Priscilla's role is apparently a combination of drug pusher and... Err... Harlot. Splendid.

    Though that someone is manufacturing a drug to make the Dead temporarily feel as though they're alive again has many implications. At least some of the relevant to the 'present' of Lumiere.

Carna (974) has posed:
    The Lit appear to be satisfied with Leyanne's blessing, bowing and making a ritual gesture to her while thanking her, and then backing away to give her room. The smell of blood in the air is definitely heavy. While it permeates everything, making it hard to identify a source, there definitely seems to be a large volume of it somewhere in the area. A source for it, whatever that might be. They don't appear to care that Leyanne's size is probably not appropriate for the person she is masquerading as. Magic masks are great.

    The zombie couple remain close by to the others, unlike the other living folks who have wandered off into the Palace, or the fools who are even now losing themselves in the party atmosphere. To be fair, having a Halloween party with actual real (kind of) dead people is a pretty awesome idea (just maybe not in this case).

    "Rosa..." the man says as he sees his partner's fearful gaze wandering around.

    She closes her eyes briefly and then forces a smile. "I'm okay, Louis. We've finally made it. It's just like we heard. She has to be around here somewhere. We'll just ask this king of theirs to help us find her."

    Louis breathes in, coughing a little bit on the coppery odor in the air, grimacing, and then just nodding his head. He squeezes Rosa's hand, and she squeezes back. Then they turn to the most human-looking one present, Enark, and ask, "The King of this place is in the Palace, right?"

    Enark nods hesitantly. Then he looks to Priscilla. Then Leyanne. Then Ko--No, wait, Kord has flown the coop. He looks to Tomoe next. "Lady Tomoe, please ensure these two make it safely to this meeting of theirs. We'll be along shortly, I believe."

    Whenever Priscilla finishes her questioning and she and Leyanne stop getting propositioned (Priscilla, for ghost-drugs, Leyanne, for blessings she makes up on the spot), eventually, the whole crew is headed inside. It is a labyrinthine trip to their destination, but there are helpful guides to show them the way. At one point, while passing through one of the ball rooms with the capacity for millions of guests at once, they get to hear the names of the identities they have assumed.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Blood Mother Vivian for Priscilla, Witch of Styx Mara for Leyanne, Dragon Knight Adair for Tomoe (not news to her, but still good to confirm), and Enark of the Blue Scholars for Enark. 'The Wolf of The Bone Woods' is how Bartrum the hiker is introduced, 'Envoy of Los' is how David the devil-man is named, Rosa and Louis are just called by their actual names though they apparently belong to something called the Cemetery Council, and the soldiers are 'Dread Hunters'.

    Kord pushing one Lit aside results in the individual just collapsing to the ground and curling into a ball, as though expecting to be savagely beaten. Thankfully, the 'lady' chooses not to pursue such a course of action when 'she' notices something off, and just flies up higher and higher and higher. The length of multiple large cities stacked on top of each other, until 'she' reaches the grand spire near the top of the Palace, with its broad, open balcony, through which the liquid crimson light shines. The black bell lies just above it, held in the mouth of a giant skull.

    Kord arrives first due to his more direct approach, and witnesses the assembling of nobles, courtiers, commoners, and people of all kinds. Up on the balconies, clustered around the edges of the long throne room, waiting for whatever their king is going to announce.

    There are some things rarely seen in Lumiere as well, right where Kord arrives.

    Children.

    They look up in surprise as the great, black, silken figure flaps over the balcony's railing. A couple of darker-skinned children bearing clear signs of injury, and dozens of others in varying condition. One of them seems... Oddly familiar. And all of them seem to be wearing armor. The oldest among them can not be older than 14, but they are all armed and armored as though they intend to fight. The equipment is piecemeal, but not shoddy in quality, and they seem to bear an emblem upon their sleeves. A crest of sorts.

    Of a Gargoyle.

    They look startled, and uncertain by Kord's arrival, but the familiar girl and a boy next to her step forward. From the hostile little eyes the girl shows him, it almost seems as though he is going to be challenged or attacked, but she and the boy both bow their heads in acknowledgement and respect. "Shadow-Seeker Belara. It is good to see you. Lord Prospero was looking for you. I'm Resaran of the Gargoyle Knights. This is my second-in-command, Lasyra. We'll let the Grand Wizard know you are here."

Carna (974) has posed:
    Gargoyle Knights. Resaran. Lasyra. They and these others... These are the Stone Devils before they became the Stone Devils. Dead children, turned into soldiers. Or perhaps they died soldiers, and that was all they knew how to become when they arrived in Lumiere. It is a dizzying realization. But not as much of one as the figure that glides up from around the corner, robed, with cabled-like bindings around his head not unlike Kord's disguise. And a devilish stone mask with two sets of sharp fangs, and a pair of horns protruding from the top.

    "No need.," a horribly familiar voice says. Like a giant stone wheel grinding over a field of human bones forever. "I am already aware. Thank you, Resaran. You and your Knights are, as always, efficient and dedicated servants." Then he turns those empty holes in his flat-faced demon mask on 'Balara'. "Well, then. Shall we attend the announcement now?"

    Eventually, everyone is in the same place, regardless of how much travel is involved, and the clamour of people waiting for the King to appear continues to grow. So too, does the feeling of an alien presence. An intense fear outside of themselves, that nonetheless seeks to worm its way inside and make their own inner fears stronger. It is like the feeling when they faced the Marble Guardian of Despair. Like the feeling of Melancholy in the Temple of the Drowned. It is an 'Aspect' of some kind.

    What are they about to witness?

Priscilla has posed:
    Why this. Why her. Why is Priscilla so bad at choosing masks. This is even worse than the last time. Why. It's not even that Priscilla doesn't understand why such a thing would exist. Traditions of the Undead had similar (though less indecent) cultural roles of providing comfort and absolution to those estranged from the living. It's not even something she can particularly scorn or begrudge. But still. Why her. Come on.

    "Be certain that thou stray not far, Sir David. Alloweth not thine urge for conversation to distract thee from the clock's hour hand." Priscilla finally sighs out. She doesn't really have the pace for these types, but the guy is obviously pretty useful at what he does. "Sadly, he shalt be made to wait for a more suitable time. There is the matter of the king's summons, after all." Putting off responsibilities for a later that never comes had worked fine last time, especially when claiming she had something important to do. Surely 'Vivian' couldn't have originally come here to do /that/ with whoever asked, considering there must be literally billions here.

    Plus, she sincerely doubts her blood has magically gained any such properties. The crossbreed's circulation is an almost-but-not-quite vestigial function, and her blood is only about as potent as that which half comes from a race of unliving stone beings can be. She doubts it'd even be satisfying to a vampire.

    During her breaks, she does her best to facilitate Leyanne's comprehension of events as best as possible, and bring her up to speed. A 'Candle' is a level of Lumiere, of which Lostrata, ruled over by the Crimson King, is the bottom, and the layers apparently correspond to enlightenment and progress towards reincarnation. This is a period closer to the point at which some mass-extinction had destroyed the living world and broken the path back to it, via said reincarnation, leaving the dead stranded. The transportation system is something they're currently looking for in the present, believing it to have been completed.

    Still, gathering at the hall, Priscilla can't help but slip out her wicked dagger, clutched invisibly in tense knuckles behind her back. The last she remembers this feeling is . . .

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord reacts first with the cold ire of his hands slowly bundling into fists, his eyes widening behind his mask at the sight of the children. Resaran... he recognizes these children, as he has met most of them before. They're beings that ring in his memory very sharply, and bring back the distinct and vibrant memories of his clash with Luc and his growing ire toward the being since the original shattering of what little stability he could build in Lumiere. The Count's head buzzed with anger, and it took almost everything he had to restrain his urge to growl loud enough to hear.

    And then Prospero arrived, and he was snapped out of it, as if in a daze.

    "Yes," Kord replies, his voice likely hidden by the mask, "Let's."

    He clasps his hands in front of himself, and steps alongside Prospero, or the being he suspects is Luc. He walks with a silent grace, as he has practiced doing so. He makes sure to stand just a step behind Prospero and just distant enough to be able to see his movements, head to toe, if he were to do something unusual. Kord, from his understanding of Belara, probably isn't breaking character doing this. She seemed like the type to constantly believe others to be ready to kill her, but in this specific case Kord cannot take the chance this is not /current/ Luc.

    Because he has no promises that 'Prospero' is not just Luc wearing Prospero's mask, or if Luc was Prospero the whole time. The distinction is not strong enough to warrant comfort or complacancy.

Leyanne Mace has posed:
Leyanne Mace seems to have perfected that nun's glide. As she follows Priscilla, Tomoe and whoever else is with them, her legs don't appear to move; it's a little like the nun from Blues Brothers as she hoovers along, arms tucked into their sleeves to enhance the image. She looks around at everything, recording every little detail. She listens attentively to Priscilla's crash course on Lumiere - it seems as well as thrills, the mouse's vices include curiosity. As a freedom fighter she is dutifully horrified at the fate of their living world, her tail lashing behind her.

When Priscilla's arm moves behind her back to grab the dagger Leyanne's eyes narrow. From under her robe, there's a faint, affirmative status bleep. As they reach the throne room for the announcement, Leyanne's hood shifts, as if her antennae are moving under it.

"Getting a major case of the heebie jeebies." she mutters.

Tomoe has posed:
The talk of Blood raining down on them leaves her looking very concerned she sees Enark is terrifed of the Purifier and she can guess why she also has no idea if somehow these memories realize she's one of the living and how they would take to that? She'll hope she can fish up some useful information here. She keeps an eye at the Werewolf Hiker and the couple as he brings up the name DAvid she tilts her head a bit.

She catcvhes wind of what David has picked up adn she can only wonder and then it hits her about Ahem the role Priscilla has been stuck with. Okay she's got it worse than her situation back home.

She also wonders how they are getting the means to make the dead. She does't say much she's not as welcome as she was last time and she wonders about the dragons a hell of a lot. Could they be imporant to what's going on in the present She looks at the pait for a moment and nods to Enark.

"I shall guard them Enark." 5R
She'll move to join the couple and looks to them.

"I shall escort you and protect you. I make no promises about what you two will find in this place..."

She'll fall in and also is mentally mapping the way out for when the time comes to /flee/ before midnight.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Prospero leads the way towards the throne, apparently expecting to stand alongside of it. The throne is currently unoccupied, but with the building tension in the air, that might not last for much longer. The Gargoyle Knights follow along behind in an orderly procession, though there are sneers from some among those gathered, or barely-masked laughter of derision. Whispers about the 'playground patrol' and Prospero's 'toy soldiers' are not-quite-said-quietly, while others mutter displeasure that children are allowed to bear arms and armor in the court, or distaste that Prospero and Belara should employ such. Even more loathesome whispering imply very perverse reasons for why children were selected, but while Lasyra boils with anger, she keeps her peace, fixes her eyes on Resaran's back, and then straightens her own, fighting off fury with pride.

    Her stance is clear. 'Let them talk. They are jealous that we hold such prestige. But as long as I can follow Resaran, I don't care about anything else. So let them talk.' The other kids follow her example. Resaran, for his part, appears to be utterly impervious to the jibes and whispers, giving them not the faintest sign of interest. He leads the double-row of child soldiers, remaining several steps behind 'Belara' so that if she were to stop suddenly, he and the others could all stop in time. But they also remain close enough to act if something were to happen.

    Depending on where the others are arranged after entering the Crimson Court, they may either be a great distance from Kord and his retinue, or relatively close by. But either way, the platform the throne is on opens up, irising into a circular pit. From the center of the platform, the Crimson King arises on a pedestal. He has changed from the last time he was seen.

    The man they saw before was a withered, gaunt, filth-mouthed, paranoid, egomaniac, barely just this side of madness. For someone described as a 'vampire king' who was a powerful and terrible foe of the Lit of Lumiere, engaging in the torture of the dead to try to discover how far he could push a soul before it broke, he was something of a disappointment. Just a conniving, cowardly, spoiled figure.

    This is not that man. Not anymore.

    The thing that rises from below is a tall. Powerfully-built. Armor half-fused to skinned, raw muscles, dripping with red. Armor both demonic and vampiric, serving more to emphasize the twisted form that has been assumed, rather than to provide protection. Even the helmet is like a bat's. It actually semi-resembles Prospero's mask. Or the face of the Shadow they know as Crwo, but taken to an insanely aggressive extreme, and then frozen in black steel.

    Shadows chitter and chirp to each other on the walls and high up on the vaulted ceiling. They wind around the pillars, poking their two-dimensional heads this way and that curiously, apparently unfazed by the growing anxiety that fills the throne room like an invisible but physical cloud of pressure.

Carna (974) has posed:
    This is the Vampire King spoken of. Whatever happened to the man who was called the Crimson King, he has been transformed. And he is he source of that alien presene of outer fear. He gazes across all of those assembled, as nobles and others assembled bow or kneel. Once he is satisfied with the respons, he gestures for everyone to rise, and then seats himself in his skull-throne. When he speaks, it is not the whiny voice from last Halloween. It is rich, powerful, vibrant, resonating with all the things vampire's are known for. Hunger, power, age, sensuality, and a predatory intent unmatched by anything found in nature (at least on most Earths).

    "Welcome to my palace. As you may have heard, I have an announcement to make. One of great importance. But first, I wish to speak on other matters. The gods have been a dwindling influence upon us for quite some time. Though their blessings, their protection, have been useful at times, with a fixed number of human souls to draw strength from, they have been losing power." There is some vague muttering around the throne room as people are uncomfortable with this criticism of the gods.

    The Crimson King holds up a hand, and everyone silences their mutterings (at least among those who are supposed to be here in this echo of the past).

    "After consulting with my Grand Wizard, I have determined the real reason why they have abandoned us. It is not simply due to lack of souls in their personal realms, or lack of worship. No, the reason is much simpler. Via the device we have constructed below this Palace, we have uncovered the truth: The gods are dead."

    This produces a considerable clamor that takes some time to die down.

    Bartrum the werewolf, David, and Rose and Louis are all assembled near the rest of the Elites. They are still taking in everything, even more lost than Leyanne on many of the specifics due to not having a convenient explanation on hand. Thankfully, Tomoe is there acting as a shield to protect the civilians among them. The soldiers, who seem to be talking amongst themselves, maybe planning something, are off by themselves. They seem to be aware, at least, of all the black-and-crimson royal guards, so hopefully they won't cause problems.

    David is all smiles, but has carefully positioned himself to have many people and at least one huge pillar between himself and the guys with guns.

Carna (974) has posed:
    "Dead gods can not protect anyone. But they still have a use. That is why we have created a passage to Barad Ghul, through a device I call the Never Tombs. Prospero has theorized that Lumiere's reanimation mechanism is what is responsible for the souls of the dead gaining form and psyche after our living selves are but dust. It is an automatic process, of enormous power. Shadow-Seeker Belara has summoned creatures from Barad Ghul to broaden the path from here to there. And now, with the Never Tombs, we are finally ready to access that distant city that Sol has squatted upon for so long in Ashron. Sarcaphogi for dead gods, using Lumiere's very nature to reanimate their decaying forms endlessly in the dark, but blocking it from ever succeeding, will create power we can use to force open a portal." The Crimson King looks upon everyone once more, realizing that a lot of these details may be lost upon the paupers and pretentious fools that play politics in his court. But the ones who earned their way here by their own merit, the intelligence and cunning they possessed in life, no doubt understand.

    "However, before we can proceed, there is something--"

    Then Rosa steps forwards suddenly, "Please, your majesty, I need to speak with you!" Louis looks exceedingly alarmed. The Nobles and everyone else explode into an offended babble at the audacity of this woman to interrupt the king. Enark has a grimace/forced-smile on his face of, 'what the fuck are you dooooooinnnng', replacing the one of thoughtfulness while he listened to the explanation. "Mister Louis, could you please--?"

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord is quite content to find his place as near the throne as possible. When he does, he takes note of the children. No, they were led, shaped, by Luc? By this 'Belara'? For a moment, Kord muses over this being's nature. Then if Enark hasn't heard of her, it may mean that something happened to her. Her place in history could've ended rather abruptly.

    None of his musing breaches the countenance of eerie and sedate walking. The mask does not betray a single thing, not of emotion or otherwise. Only the slightest movements of 'her' head are required to take in what is happening.

    Actually... Kord pauses in his step completely, and his head swivels mechanically, eyes fixating directly on the one that suggested something filthy about the Gargoyle Knights. The pride Kord can see in these children is not something to be trifled with, lest it breed a contempt all too familiar to himself. In fact, he has a notion to believe Belara only would've resisted reaching out and plucking the noble's throat out as simply as grabbing a glass of wine by a very thin hair, because of the politeness expected of the occasion.

    She hated these people. It was clear in how they reacted to her attention.

    Kord doesn't pause for long. The apparent method actor hardly disturbs the procession of little soldiers, and finds a place near Prospero.

    Then the King arrives, and he is a sight to behold. Suddenly, it became clear to Kord a simple truth, a fact that had eluded him. Something clicked in his head, as thought upon the rain of blood, the aura of intense and alien fear, and the stories he's heard until now. The state of the Gargoyle Knights then and now. Nothing could make Kord hate Luc more than how he felt right at that moment, because he came to understand something vital about the events in this place.

    Before he could point anything out, Rosa spoke.

    Shadows around him deepened and crawled. His head canted forward and his hands fell to his sides. His gaze fixated directly on Rosa, and he leered at her. He leered so hard she might feel it, because of the oppressive saturation of darkness that comes with Kord's absolute, 'what the FUCK are you doing' attention.

    He smiled behind his mask.

    This should be good.

Tomoe has posed:
Rose and Louis are being flanked and guarded by Tomoe,s he's popped a few passive defence buffs on them, it's very likely to be needed if things go bad. Tomoe is there ready to guard them if it seem to be a thing she's not sure what the solduers are up to but wonders. Could they be after a dead enemy to pump them for information needed in their world? She wonders but she's more focused on her charges she also attempts to loiok at the Crimson King and feels a chill about this.

The the talk of the gods being dead comes up she gets an idea somthing is broken and has been long broken before the world of the dead exploded. She moes to keep up with hte woman for a moment and she moves to make sure she's in between her charges and hte King, this is going to hurt she supsects and she's prepping her more overt tanking abilities right now incluiding heavier but very noticable defence buff if things hit the fan she's going to pop them and protect thse two even if it might kill her.

Priscillai may recall Tomoe has basically died once during the death game of SAO, maybe something broke that day in her and never has quite mended it self.

"My King forgive my charges, they have made a great jourey to seek you out and I beg you to forgive any transgression they might have made upon thee."

Priscilla has posed:
    Without the whispers of the Darkness and the insight they grant, Priscilla is left with far less understanding of the Crimson King's nature, save that it explains the pervasive stench of blood that been present for some time. That aspect is easy enough for her to ignore, being so, so very used to it, but she ill-appreciates the secondary aura at play, and it immediately gives her a very good idea upon whose, or more precisely, what's, blood he had become saturated and swollen with power upon. It seems she could certainly blame this bastard for /something/.

    "The dead gods." she murmurs into the radio. "Their sarcophagi. We hath seen them before. Once. If they art the passage to Barad Ghul, it is very likely that we may be forced to returneth to Escher." Because Leyanne is doing her honest best, Priscilla also takes the time to explain the weirdly named city, and its relevance as a sort of 'base of operations' for fixing the broken link to the land of the living, which they had been hoping to find a while ago. Also that Escher is a horrible non-euclidean library tower full of mimics and that it absolutely sucks, but has doors that lead everywhere. Let anyone make whatever they will of a Blood Mother constantly keeping up a private conversation with a worshiper of Styx.

    Rosa opens her fat mouth. Priscilla said this was a terrible idea before. She already knows where this is going. Fortunately, she had asked Tomoe beforehand to take care of the couple, and she has faith in the Iron Lily's dedication to the ideal of protecting innocents and her capability as a tank, but she doubts the King of Lostrata will suffer it lightly. "Count Kord? Art thou in a position to move, shouldst the royal guards do so? I hath mine doubts the king wouldst rise from his throne, however, there art answers only possible to be gained from the living present, than figments of the past we shalt likely see again, even if only in record." At that point though, she has to find the soldiers, and ask them pretty cleanly: "And what of thee? Art all of thee here for something thou wouldst ask of these mock phantoms?" She really hopes there isn't going to be a concerted effort to disrupt the proceedings with outspoken pleas.

    While she has the opportunity, Priscilla at least finally, vocally interjects: "Pray, proceed, thine majesty. If thou hath it within thine heart, hear the woman out later. We hath all assembled so eagerly to hear what it is thou hast to say." Let her weird costume translation put that into plain English. Probably in a flattering and flirty way, given this ridiculous outfit.

Leyanne Mace has posed:
Leyanne Mace listens intently to Priscilla's explaination about the library and space here. A plastic hand meets the forehead of her mask as Rosa speaks, talking to the dead king. She shakes her head "Girl's gonna get herself crushed if she doesn't zip..." Tiny mutters, watching and listening. She seems relieved when people intervene on her behalf.
"Forgive them, sire." She speaks up, compelled to because, well, aren't nuns supposed to be about compassion? Besides, the others will quickly throw glares at her if she's not doing it right. "I fear the excitement of proceedings may have over-excited her."

If you're gonna do it, go ham.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Rosa pauses at the commotion, but then tries to push ahead regardless, the desperation in her eyes clear. The Crimson King raises a hand, and gradually everyone shuts up. He listens to what Tomoe has to say, while Rosa cringes a bit under Kord's glare. As Tomoe and Priscilla speak up, the king waits, listens, and then says, "A petitioner who has travelled far to find me. Vouched for by a Dragon Knight who calls me her king instead of that of her own Candle, a Witch of Styx, and one of Prospero's Blood Maidens. Very well, Blood Mother, Dragon Knight, blessed one. I shall hear what she has to say. This will be a night like no other. Before the momentous occasion, I can spare a moment."

    Rosa looks around, more terrified than ever now that she has the eyes of everyone on her. The fear radiating from the king amplifies that fear, making her quiver and shake, opening and closing her mouth, unable to make words. Louis steps forward, grabbing his partner's hand, and squeezing it. She takes a deep breath, and fights down the fear as best she can. "I... We..." She looks to Louis again, glance apologetically back at Priscilla and Tomoe and Enark. Then she faces the King again. "We... Lost our child. We have tried everything to get her back. The most advanced medical technology, magic rituals, we even hired a necromancer, and tried to find something that could grant wishes. We have nothing left. We have tried everything else. But then we heard that this place... Lumiere, is the land of the dead. That the dead can come back here. So when we got an invitation... We thought... We'd ask if you could reunite us."

    The fact that they're living people speaking as though they came from outside of Lumiere, the mention of the invitation, and all of that, is probably not parsed as intended by the Dead here. The magic of their masks. It makes it sound like whatever would make sense given the context of the time period and environment.

    "A sad tale to be sure." the Crimson King says after a time. "You have my word that you will be reunited with your child soon." The ominous implications of that promise are lost upon Rosa and Louis as tears come to their eyes. They are too happy to have their final hope realized to question it.

    As Priscilla questions the soldiers, they look upon her grudgingly, and then say, "We have nothing to ask of him. Don't worry about that." David titters, "Quite the reassurance, exactly as reassuring as the king's own word, very soothing, promising, and probable cause to depart, away, away, away. I've had my fill for the eve, so I'll bow out here. Good night, good morning, good day, good afternoon, good bye!" Then the red-suited, horn-wearing businessman literally bows out and starts making for the nearest exit.

    Unfortunately for him, the royal guards move to block him, causing him to stop short, hands behind his back, smiling broadly and innocently.

Carna (974) has posed:
    Bartrum has his own bone to pick with the King. "While you're passing out favors, how about breaking curses? The one you put on me thirty years ago? The people killed by--"

    The king cuts him off with a wave of his handle. "Yes, yes. Prospero will see to it. He is adept with sorcery. Whatever your problem is, he can certainly resolve it." The gracious mood appears to be wearing thin. Bartrum bares his peculiarly sharp teeth, but backs down for now.

    The Crimson King returns his attention to the matter at hand. "It occurs to me, that one of the reasons why there has been so much disorder and chaos in Lumiere, and in Lostrata in particular before I took the throne, was because we have all forgotten what it is to be alive. Prospero has aided us in experiencing that once more, to a degree. But there is something more fundamental missing than a pulse or breath in one's lungs. More than the taste of real food, or the warmth of a lover's kiss. It is the single most primal factor of human existence. It is what motivated us to survive, and also ensured we followed the rules and laws of the world."

    He raises both hands, gesturing as he speaks with sharp-fingered gauntlets. "I speak, of course, of Fear."

    Right them, Prospero leans over to whisper to 'Belara', quietly enough not to be overheard by the king despite proximity. "That is an interesting mask you are wearing."

    The King continues his grand speech. "Fear is what kept us alive. It kept us safe. It also kept order. Fear of pain, fear of loss, fear of consequences, fear of death. We are all dead down here, there is not much left for us to lose, and even pain is but a faint memory with these spirit bodies we possess. So, with all reasons to fear gone, what reason have we to beware of consequences for our actions? Why should we do as we are told? It is holding us back, this lack of fear... This lack of... Humanity."

Carna (974) has posed:
    At the same time, Skull Squadron quietly load silver-tipped rounds into their guns and turn off the safeties. Oh, that can't be good.

    The vampire king finishes his speech with, "I intend to fix that, by teaching the Dead what it is to fear once more. Then, and only that, will we be organized enough to reclaim the Earth for ourselves--"

    The soldiers whip up their guns, one of them yelling out, "You aren't going to reclaim SHIT, UNDEAD SCUM!" Then they open fire. The response is surprisingly subdued. Whatever they're doing is being translated by the magic in a way that is understandable. So while the others all around are appalled, they do not react with the same degree of panic as they might if they realized there were guns being fired. But their rounds pound into the seated King all the same. Deflecting off armor in bright sparks, or thunking into exposed muscle, either way, they are unloading on him. Someone is likely to do something to stop them shortly. But first, the Crimson King stands slowly from his throne. Something bad is about to happen for sure.

    And unlike the Dead, Rosa and Louis and Bartrum are taking cover as they find themselves in the middle of a fire fight.

    David is just staying as near the back of the group as possible to avoid drawing further attention.

    As the level of outer fear increases steadily until the corners of vision begin to go black, the heart pumps faster and faster, cold sweat breaking out, and a feeling of URGENCY climbs in intensity, Prospero leans towards Kord again. "If you intend to get out before midnight, I recommend you start running." Another pause. "Right now."

Count Kord has posed:
    Kord frowns behind his mask as the woman blurts out something about resurrecting a child. The words the King says are, sadly, a predictable response. Whether honest or sinister, it makes him frown behind his mask. No, the mature response is to tell them 'No.' Death is not always meant to be struggled against. Sometimes, it just wins. A fact that they cannot accept because love blinds them.

    He grimaces behind his mask, turning his head away to look anywhere else. The nobles all over, the soldiers.

    He ignores the rest of their requests, and largely ignores the King ... especially when Prospero leans over to /talk directly to him/. He turns his head just enough to acknowledge but not enough to break character, to shatter the illusion.

    As the Crimson King there talks of Fear, of a very real philosophy Kord actually agrees with on many points, he looks at 'Prospero' and tries to stare through the disguise. Alas, he hasn't the senses to pierce a veil this thick, but his feelings may have been correct. He reaches up to adjust his mask a moment, suddenly very conscious of its presence.

    "... next time," is all the response he gives Prospero, before just... catapulting out of the room at incredible speed. It'd take little more than a second to clear the threshold onto one of the balconies, and not many more moments to be well out of eyeshot. He doesn't pause to help anyone, he just bails as quickly as he can, faster than any guard is likely be able to stop. In fact, he'd just blow through any guard that actually managed to get in his way, probably.

    Kord knows he'd rather be anywhere but in that room when the King acts.

Tomoe has posed:
The pain of someone whose lost a child she knows that pain the parient of a friend of he's lost in SAO come to mind she holds the ground she hears what these two have done for thir parent. She pauses for a moment she cinges though things could get bad with how tht was phrased she pauses for a moment as she ake redy to see how things go. She looks to the parents for a moment then sees one man has the sense to get the hell out of dodge already, good she hopes he can find his way out of here. Then the guards move to stop him.

Fear and pain how you know your still alive is something she has long come to undertand.

Things seem to be getting worrysome to her though.

The king speaks of reclaiming the Earth though the dead boiling over the natural order breaking? Though she can understand the drive to keep ones self, that's something pretty big to her given she's been lost for a long time on whom she really was. She wioll be popping those active buffs on rosa Louis and David at this point and if the business man is somehow in range he'll get it too.

"WE ARE LEAVING!" She'll move to put her wepaon away and she'll move to the couple.

She looks to them and will move to say "I will get you out of here, come I don't think the unification he offers is what you seek. I know a few people but we have to get out of here." There also is a point to letting go she looks to David and the Business guy.

"Don't just stand there we need to move."

There is naught that can be done for the soldiers who have come hunting, sigh why here they could be going elsewhere to hunt the dead unless could the Crimson king reach out into the multiverse? She will move to pick up both of the couple if she has to to carry them but she's intending to guide them out and the others as well she calls to the soldiers.

"This is the past you can't to naught to it you will end up stuck here s one of the undead forever yourselves..."

Priscilla has posed:
    Dead child. Of course it was a dead child. What else could possibly motivate a couple to do this insane stunt together? Priscilla has only the barest notion of sympathy for the two. She can respect their dedication and fortitude, but not their reasons. Separation is a fact of life, to say nothing of death, and children have never been sacred from it.

    The fact that the hiker claims to have been cursed 30 years ago, despite Lumiere's unification not even being close to that old, perplexes Priscilla, but she doesn't really have the time to consider it. Of /course/ the soldiers could only be here to start a firefight. At that point, though their confidence is admirable, they've bought their own farm. Whatever the rest is, it won't be heard tonight. Not in this time. It's almost a sad thing, because as far as Priscilla has ever known, his 'philosophy' is not all that far off from the fundamental essence of Humanity.

    Kord is bolting. Priscilla trusts he has his reasons. He has always had a keen instinct for this place; an attunement to the Darkness she had rejected quite emphatically. "We shalt hath answers from thee." she admonishes with equal emphasis to Rosa and Louis. She turns and aims for the door as well, where the royal guards block David, as well as anyone else attempting to leave. As some kind of blood/pleasure doll, she doesn't expect they'll act much aggressively when she practically trots up to them, seemingly with something to say, before lashing out --left right and twice again to be sure-- in the blink of an eye with the gracefully spinning curve of her Lifehunt dagger.

    Having to flee the court room for the second time in a row. How mortifying.

Carna (974) has posed:
    The fear effect that the Crimson King is putting out abruptly goes from a 9 to a 20. Skull Squadron's hearts pump so quickly over the course of three seconds that the organs burst, causing them to collapse dead on the spot, vomitting blood. Rosa and Louis barely suffer a similar fate due to being far enough away, but they are hit with such an intense increase in blood pressure that they pass out. Bartrum falls to his hands and knees, growling and screaming rather than either dying or passing out. And before their eyes, his werewolf costume becomes much less real than the wolf he begins to transform into. White fur sprouts from all over his body, spreading and spreading, his ears migrate to the top of his eat, extending into points. His libs elongate, change shape, and reverse direction as hands melt into paws. The whole transformation takes place over about fifteen seconds as the steadily building fear turned into full-blown panic, Dead people running and screaming as they are reminded exactly what fear feels like.

    The gigantic white wolf turns, snarling to the others, and says in a deep, growling tone, "Any of you who can not get down quickly on your own, get on." David is the first one on, almost before Bartrum even finishes. With Tomoe grabbing Rosa and Louis, that just leaves Enark and Priscilla.

    As the Royal Guards try to stop people from fleeing through violence, firing huge red-and-gold arrows into the bodies of the Dead, the devil man, the werewolf, the zombie couple, and Enark all benefit from Tomoe's continuous defense buffs, ensuring they are not caught in the cross fire, and what does hit them glances off harmlessly.

    The Gargoyle Knights do not suffer the fear aura well, but to their testament they manage to remain standing where many others fall to the ground in cowering balls or flee in a panic. And they try to help everyone else get out, even as the Royal Guards interfere to try to stop them. Prospero slinks back into the darkness near the throne, with some sort of device in hand, as all the various Shadows begin to converge on him.

    Is he about to... Activate the 'Never Tombs'?

Carna (974) has posed:
    As Kord flies away, he may catch sight of the disturbance below, people feeling something is wrong, sensing the coming disaster before it happens. But something even more eye-catching is the bright flash of light in the distance, off behind the Palace. A series of underground explosions go off in quick succession. Then a sound worse than fear, worse than the loudest bomb, worse than anything, resonates through everything. It is the sound of a clock striking. But it also the sound of the inevitable end of everything. The certainty that of there one day being Nothing. No life, no death, just an empty cosmos, spinning on endlessly full of galaxy-sized blackholes, until even that ends, and there is simply no more anything, forever.

    The ornate structures all around begin to crack.

    The clock strikes a second time, as the Fear radiates outwards like a wave of black needles, chasing after the Elites. Bartrum snatches up Tomoe, who is in turn carrying Rosa and Louis, and tosses them onto his back. As Priscilla skillfully dispatches the two well-armored guards before they can react to her as a threat, the White Wolf picks up Priscilla from behind by the back of her dress and then they all get a hair-rising vertical ride down the outside of the Palace. The agile beast leaps and runs down the surface, going from wall to balcony to tower to anything he can use to accelerate the fall. But it is such a long, long, long fall. Even with Enark trying to ward them with water shields so that longer distances can be jumped without fearing injury upon impact, it seems to take far too long. Like running from something awful in a nightmare.

    The clock strikes three.

    Towers fall, the screams below come up to meet them as a keening echo. The clock strikes four, and the ground splits under the weight of a second apocalypse. A hollow *WHUMPF* can be heard from somewhere far below them, deep underground, and then that same ground upon which so many souls flee their fate, just implodes, sending them hurtling down into the depths.

    This must have been when Final Destination was shattered, and the arrival point for the dead was blasted and burnt by the sheer volume of newly-Dead souls arriving all at once. What they are witnessing here...

Carna (974) has posed:
    This is the cataclysmic event that will later be called the Death of All Light.

    The Doomsday Clock strikes five, and cracks begin to spread across the moon in the sky. Blue fire pours races along the fissures, pouring in huge geysers. Ships at port race in their panic to set sail. The crumbling of cliff faces, the corrosion of the geography, sends massie boulders raining down to crush not just docked ships, but the towns and villages nearby.

    Sixth strike.

    Kord is the first to the path out, flying into the fog that swirls around him, denser than when he first arrived. It pulls at him, thick and soup-like, making his flight slower than it should be, but he is still fast enough, and early enough, to break through. He comes tearing out of the fog bank, and right out in front of the Mask Maker's cart.

    Inside, the clock strikes seven as the fissures spread outwards, consuming more and more of the surroundings. The living who came here for a party are down there somewhere, lost, and possibly already dead. Bartrum reaches the ground level and fights his way across dissolving terrain. The blood pool in the sky, unseen by all but Kord, reaches its limits, and collapses, flooding everything in unseen waves of red.

    The Crimson King moves to the balcony that Kord entered through originally, and looks down upon all the destruction. It is not what he intended, but it can still serve a purpose.

    The clock strikes eight.

    The wolf leaps over the vast chasm, almost seeming like he's going to make it, and then hits the edge of the huge hole on the other side. Hanging on with just his forelegs, he scrambles, unable to use rear legs to get ahold of anything in the hollowed out terrain below him. He puts all his supernatural strength into it and whips his body, flinging everyone back into the fog bank. How well they land will vary, but they are back on the path. And Bartrum's grip on the ground fails as the ledge he clings to falls, taking him down with it.

Carna (974) has posed:
    The clock strikes nine.

    The fog is almost like a wall by now. They must push with all their strength, all their will, to make it through. Everything trembles around them, the sound of the land of the dead rupturing under the deluge of every living thing dying at once, a deafening accompaniment to their struggles.

    Ten strikes.

    The fog closes in on them suffocatingly, crushingly. Which way is the right away again? Where are the lights? They have no path. No guides. No way to tell forwards from back anymore...!

    Eleventh strike.

    Then they just pop out of the fog, leaving the cataclysm behind. In the remaining seconds they have to them, removing their masks and turning them over is barely possible. But it is enough.