"Time and Again" by Matthew Boles

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 6:01 am

papa nurgle wrote:

Here are the redone first few pages. I hope you like them.

As the time of twilight lit the harbor in colors of gold and dark blue, the boy ran like the wind through the pools of high intensity lights next to the trafficway. His eyes were wide with fright as he looked over at the surface road that hummed with vehicles while not fifteen feet above them maglevs carried even more of the press of humanity. Structures of plascrete and ion glass stood like giants next to crumbling brick and wood edifices, the buildings blurring together in the boy’s peripheral vision. The citiplex of D.C./Baltimore stood in all of its horrifying glory, seemingly blind to the boy’s terror.
The young man, no more than sixteen years of age, boy cut an impressive figure racing through the scattered populace on the walkway. His pale skin reflecting the light of the roadway almost like he was glowing and the short blond curls on his head seemed to dance as he ran. His pants, once beautiful reproductions of classic blue jeans were now streaked with dirt and torn at one knee The hyper color shirt he wore radiated the colors of heat and exertion. On his heaving chest was a white sticker with red lettering that read, ‘Hi. My name is’ and below that written in beautiful black script read Roland.
A small alley on his right beckoned him and he turned tightly into it, never looking back to see if they were after him. Here the harsh lights of the roadway receded and the moon globes of the old alley had been broken out so only muted light from the barred windows and dark shadows flowed around him. Roland took a moment to suck in breath and to find a place to hide. An electrical maintenance shed anchored next to a cement block wall of the alley seemed the best choice. Roland dashed inside and slumped to the floor, electric meters whirring and ticking above his head. In the darkness of the shed the smell of rot and ozone mixed in his nose as Roland tried to get his breathing under control while the events of the last few minutes roared in his head.

His family had decided as part of his class work in world history they would visit the old Smithsonian Natural History Museum in D.C. quarter. There were seven of them, his mother and father along with his ‘uncle Ken’ and ‘aunt Viv’ and their two children, Brian and Anna, Roland’s home school classmates. The day had been so perfect, studying the bones of ancient creatures, looking at the wealth of God’s creation even with all of its mysteries. It was so rare for them to travel to such a place that every moment was laced with excitement. His parents were great at pointing at the beauty in the exhibits and those who had gathered to view them. It had been a good day. The learning and laughing finally whirled them back to their home where it all went wrong.
Three things, figures with ornate masks and dressed like guys out of an Ivory Coast holovid had attacked his family just as he was turning the key in the door to their home, their lair. Roland was right at the door and did not see the figures further down the hall until it was already too late. In a matter of moments, Roland had seen his aunt and uncle and their children cut down by strange energies and shining silver creatures that seemed to spring from the figures’ hands. The smell of blood and the sound of screams lanced through the boy, too struck by what he saw to act. His father turned to face him, blocking Roland’s sight of the figures and spoke only one word, “Run”.

Roland tried to control his agony, the despair welling up and overflowing as tears on his face, his breath softly moaning in and out of his body when through the space between the door and its frame he saw them in the alley entrance. The strange figures just suddenly appeared. No walking into the light or leaping to the ground, just first they were not there and then they were.
‘Can’t sleep, Clowns will eat me.’ The insipid t-shirt statement came to the forefront of Roland’s mind and he had to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop from screaming in hysterical laughter.

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 6:02 am

papa nurgle wrote:

From the crack in the door, Roland saw the three clearly for the first time. Their clothes were richly textured like velvet or brocade and the clothing was opulent with gold and pearl filigree. Their pants reached to their knees where something like silk hose met supple leather boots, their every part like gentry from another century. Gloves of fine cloth writhed with the finger movements of the three. Their faces were masks like white ceramic, smooth and brilliant in the light of the roadway. Geometric patterns of black and gold traced across the masks and Roland was sure that occasionally the patters would change, but it could have merely been a trick of light and shadow. The hair of all three was a pale grey-white with loose wavy curls that dropped beyond the shoulders of all three.
Their movements as they entered the alley reminded Roland of graceful birds, their lithe forms and ornate clothing looked a lot like the nature documentaries his mom would make him watch. With the thought of his mother and what may have happened to her, Roland felt his mind slide out from under him, his body slumping as a memory that was his but not his own, swam through him.


A bright light, the sun over a land of parched ground and thin air, silhouetted a figure on a cross. A woman, her body wracked with anguish, knelt at the foot of the cross. A cup of unearthly beauty was in front of her. On the cross, the man smiled. His eyes were full of wisdom and love even with what was happening to him. The cup beneath his feet shone with the brilliance that none could explain but all could understand. The moment was perfect, a second in time that outshone all others, a moment of transcendence.


Hands roughly grabbed at his shirt as Roland was pulled up from the floor he was on and thrown up against the concrete wall. The force of the impact knocked the wind from him as he shook his head to clear it after the vision. The figures had him, the sounds he made while his mind was elsewhere had betrayed him and now he was their prisoner. His eyes were bright with tears and his face curled in pain from both the beauty of the memory he had just witnessed and the thought of his family being hurt by these creatures of velvet and silence.
He saw the largest of the three, the one in the middle that Roland just knew was the leader, raise his hand. Floating just above the palm was a sphere, somewhat larger than a marble. The colors of green and rust flecked across the surface of the sphere, spiraling in a pattern of its own design. A sound like a hundred whispers floated out of the sphere as it spun faster and faster above the hand of the figure. The figure crushed the sphere with a flex of the gloved hand and suddenly a small silver figure came into being. Roland could only comprehend the thing as the skeleton of a flying serpent, its body transparent and wispy in the half light of the alley. Roland understood in that moment he would soon be with his family.

“You will not harm him!” cried a voice from above the huddled group. Roland looked up and saw a woman balancing like a bird on the rusted remains of an old fire escape. Her hands flashed out almost quicker that the eye could see and the skeletal creature that flew in front of Roland was impaled on a pair of sharpened metal rods. Its body flaring away in light and heat as what remained of it hit the ground.
Before the three could react, the woman was among them. Her very presence seemed to throw the figures off of their game. She struck quickly with a series of blows and kicks that drove one of the three to its knees. The now fairly crowded alley making it much easier to land her attacks. Roland, now felt strength return to his limbs and he struck out, slamming his fist into the ceramic like mask of the figure before him, sending the attacker sprawling. Roland had never pulled back his fist in violent intent before and the adrenaline thundered through him. His next hand struck the side of the creature’s head and it hit the pavement a sound not unlike a moan finally breaking their stony silence. Now where moments ago there had stood three malicious figures and a frightened young man, a man and woman now stood triumphant over the attackers.

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 6:03 am

papa nurgle wrote:

Already though, the three began to rise and in that moment the girl grabbed Roland’s hand and ran for the roadway. A maglev settled to the ground just yards away as the two burst from the alley and scrambled up its steps. The stink of the press of humanity assailed the two as they looked through the grimy plastic windows for signs of the three. They found an empty seat as the maglev rose and pulled away, leaving the altercation with deadly figures behind. Then Roland let the fear, anger, and pain of the last several minutes carry him into darkness. He only knew of motion, walking into another building, of the smell of clean sheets and the sounds of jazz rising to him from far away before he fell into deeper slumber.


Slumber gave way finally to the brightness of sunlight through large windows and the smell of hot caffeine brewing somewhere nearby. Roland opened his eyes as his stomach growled; waves of hunger and the smell of food making him forget for a moment the horrors of last night. As he scanned the room and stood up from the old steel spring mattress, his mind came together and he hung his head in loss and pain.
The room was a light and bright one, a hard wood floor worn and scraped with use collided with old bricks and mortar. The late afternoon sun shot through the old thick paned glass windows that made most of one wall. Blue velvet curtains and faded blue wood furniture made the room look like a page from a history book instead something one would use on a daily basis. From the vantage point of the window, Roland could tell they were in an older section of the citiplex, several stories up so one could view the harbor and docks from the windows he stood at. The day had already flown by and the people below were headed for late meals or to their homes for the evening. The loss of last night was not even known by those who moved below, but Roland knew that all in the plex’ would be less for his family being gone.

“It’s about time you awoke. How are you feeling?”
The woman who had literally saved his life last night stood in the paint peeling doorway to the room. Here in the light of day he could finally make out the details of her lithe form. She seemed to be in her late twenties, but that could have been wrong. Her skin seemed flawless and as warm as the floor beneath his bare feet. Her face was pixie like and showed a kindness that few people truly possessed. She wore a dark green half shirt of thick material with the words ‘Others May Fall’ stenciled on it. Her firm abdomen brought a flush to Roland’s face and the tight black pants showed off her curves in the best of all possible ways. She was barefoot, and it for some reason made Roland happy to see that.

“Roland, you okay. I am up here man. You’re not going to faint again are you?”
“Sorry, I just feel a little... hey, how do you know my name?”

She smiled and looked at Roland with mischief in her dark brown eyes, “Well besides it being printed on sticker on your shirt, I know your,” she stopped for a moment, the humor she wore only a second ago giving way to sadness, “I mean I knew your mom and dad from some time back. I even meant to come by sometime in the near future to say hello and I am sorry that now I will not get that chance.”
A few moments went by as Roland looked back out through the window. There was nothing more that needed to be said. Roland looked down and for the first time realized he was not in last night's clothes. Some sweat pants and his underwear were all that graced his body and he felt a tinge of embarrassment and still more excitement at the thought of this mystery woman changing him.

She must have seen Roland’s odd look at his clothing because before he could say anything, she spoke, “Look do not worry about your clothes. You were so out of it last night and your clothes were fried. I took them to get cleaned up but I know you could use a shower too. There is a bathroom down the hall with towels and some other clothes I had around that looked like they could fit you. Go get cleaned up then you and I can talk. I have some food that is almost ready and the coffee is certainly calling to me. When you are ready meet me downstairs at the table.”

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 7:19 am

EJ wrote:

Matt, I re-organized the fan fiction threads and will move your earlier feedback here.

I have to say I love the new addition. I like the humor (the name tag) and the realism (Roland admits both embarrassment and excitement to himself). But above everything I continue to be amazed how effortlessly you seem to be able to drop into the Mardi Gras universe. I feel really blessed to have you here.

EJ

P.S. I moved your most excellent (and yes, haunting) discovery about the churches to the Shared Universe section so that Terrapyres and Celestials writers -- who both use Cathedrals -- can check it out.

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 7:20 am

EJ wrote:

Matt... you mentioned before that you're just "puttering." Well, your puttering is beautiful. Captivating -- in the literal sense. I'm working on so little sleep right now... almost six in the morning and haven't even seen my pillow yet... and I could not stop reading. I'm at four times through so far. I'll read it again before I sign off.

I appreciate the sense of the city and the urgency and movement -- real *movement* -- of Roland as he runs/escapes. The locale is painted in brief strokes that are vibrant and don't slow down the action and forward momentum of the story.

I was startled by the brutality of the Celestials (though, it certainly isn't unknown among them! And we don't know the whole story here, of course)... and then read again and was impressed that you made them Gwandii, arguably the most likely to despise both humans and Terrapyres. We talk so much about the beauty of Celestials... we can't forget that since the Grail forced their path to Earth, they are soldiers above all else.

I'll only point out one change you may want to make, though, the story is from Roland's eyes and so this may just be his perception. The "clothes" that Celestials "wear" in Ornate Form are actually part of their bodies as are their masks. They manifest this finery. Kinda creepy. I kinda like how you have it because it leaves Roland open to discover this spooky fact on his own, but I wasn't sure if that fact is clear enough in the current sourcebook.

Another point... Is this Roland's first experience with nonlinear memory? It seems as though he's waking up. His flash of Christ was both painful and beautiful to read. I wanted to shelter him from it as much as I hoped it offered some kind of hope.

Last word from me: More?

EJ

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 7:21 am

papa nurgle wrote:

Oh yes there is more...

The idea I am working on is that of young terrapyre Roland, who is just beginning to realize his abilities and potential, when a rogue group of Celestials find and kill his lair, including his family. Alone and overwhelmed by events, Roland is 'rescued' by Ventira, an Elder who has turned away from the violence of the Grail search and instead now searches for lone terrapyres and instructs them on their abilities and what it means to be a terrapyre.
She is also searching for a way to end this horrible conflict without more casualties on either side. She knows there must be a way to accomplish this but has yet to find it. In Roland she begins to see a possibility in the trrapyres that she has not seen in some time. We flash back between the years 2048 and 1888 as we learn of Ventira's long search to end the grail battles. With her thoughts torn between teaching young Roland and the possibility of history repeating itself, she begins a series of adventures that change her and her young protege.
Meanwhile a Gwandii splinter group of Celestials, led by the Celestial Voga, begin a pogrom of annihilating the terrapyre threat, thus making it easier to gain the grail and end this nonsensical stalemate. The group he leads have been actively investigating terrapyre lairs instead of grail haunts and now are beginning their elimination of the terrapyre threat.

Yes the story is indeed told through the eyes of Roland to begin with but shifts fairly evenly between our two protagonists. I wanted to start with Roland because Roland sees all of this just like I am now and new readers will relate with, as it is new and frightening (but also so exciting). There is the differences in him between his exisitng knowledge of what he is and what is now happening to him (that old chestnut of what you know and how that differs from what you experience). So yes while he has heard of the Celestials and has been told how they look, this is his first experience with them and their brutality and looks have overwhelmed him. While this is not his first touch of nonlinear memory it is by far the strongest and as it is a stressful moment we see how hard the vision comes over him.
I will also have some play with my Celestial group (the two with Voga in the attack are Halley and Luina) as they take on their bloodthirsty roles and we shall see if all of them have the will to continue on such a bloody path. Even I am not sure if they do or do not. I even have some surprises with Ventira and her student in 1888 and some unusual links between that student and Roland.

I plan on updating this as quick as I can, every few days as I am able. Than you for creating such a fun world and letting me play a little in its boundries. I appreciate whatever feedback I get from any who read on the forums, so come on and pile it on. It is the only way I will learn!

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 7:22 am

Brianne wrote:

Matthew . . . this story you've begun is truly incredible. Your writing is very articulate, and you don't waste words. Every word is used to it's full potential. I seriously can't wait to see what you post next. =]

"papa nurgle wrote:
A bright light, the sun over a land of parched ground and thin air, silhouetted a figure on a cross. A woman, her body wracked with anguish, knelt at the foot of the cross. A cup of unearthly beauty was in front of her. On the cross, the man smiled. His eyes were full of wisdom and love even with what was happening to him. The cup beneath his feet shone with the brilliance that none could explain but all could understand. The moment was perfect, a second in time that outshone all others, a moment of transcendence."

Beautiful. Incredible. I literally have no other words.

Brianne

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 7:25 am

EJ wrote:

Matt, I'm even more thrilled with your idea now that you're told me more about where you're going. The plot seems strong and true to the universe while being unique -- your own take -- which I really like.

I'm not sure if this will help you flesh out any details but here's a new fact that was just officiated:

Both prior to the Grail's first appearance on Hom and after, Celestials have used genetic engineering to create fascinating flora and fauna both to suite their work needs and their aesthetic desires. However... genetic engineering is not allowed -- strictly forbidden! -- on a Celestial himself. What is unknown to the general Celestial populace, is that a group of Gwandii Elders and Refineds did indeed engage in this very thing (back before the Grail came to Hom). They went so far as to illegally cross province lines (the provinces were closed before Unification) and kidnap rare Celestial children (genetically abnormal children) in order to harvest rare genetic material. A forthcoming story in the Player's Handbook will include a story of one such child.

This strange genetic engineering might give your Gwandii Celestials abilities not normally seen in the universe. If you need something like this Enjoy, Matt!

EJ

[Admin]

Sun Oct 05, 2008 8:10 am

JenDiMarco wrote:

Matt, I read your piece when you originally posted it and loved it. I've mulled the idea of rogue Celestials over the last few days and keep coming back to read again. I was pleased to find another installment tonight.

I appriecate the time and attention you've given to the finer details of the universe. It's easy for authors to take their story so far into left field that they can ignore the "Mardi Gras physics," so to speak. It takes much more time and effort to work within the "rules" and I agree with EJ. You seem to do it effortlessly.

Welcome to the forum, Matt, and thank you for writing.

Jennifer

[Admin]

Mon Oct 06, 2008 4:42 am

papa nurgle wrote:

Thank you all for your kind words and I am really trying to keep my ideas within the boundries of this universe. It is really nice to play in someone else's sandbox for awhile. After all when I am writing about whatever I want to, there are no rules, so I can do whatever I like. Now with working in this structure I find it can be even more enjoyable. After all it is rules that make the game more fun, right!

New pages to the story are next. If you are lurking, giving my worn words a glance, please tell me what you think. It would mean a lot to me to read what others see in what I have written. Let me know if I have made a misstep or more. I can't learn if others do not correct me.

[Admin]

Mon Oct 06, 2008 4:51 am

papa nurgle wrote:

The shower was small but the water was hot and felt good on his skin. Roland quickly scrubbed the muck and sweat of last night away and after a quick shave dressed in the clothes laid out for him. They were of exquisite design, real cotton pants with silver tabs and button fly. A ribbed shirt of dark blue and a silk vest to go with it. He put on heavy socks the likes of which had never graced Roland’s feet before. He almost felt sorry that they would go back into his rough old boots, and then felt a little shocked over this. He had never felt he or his family lacked such things before. He would not start being ashamed over something as silly as a lack of money.
When he looked in the mirror, though, he did like what he saw and knew that his new friend had chosen wisely. With that he headed down the hall and the stairs, noticing the fine pictures in frames or the small tables with sculptures that line the way.
At the table in the room below, the young woman sat sipping hot caffeine from a demitasse cup and running her hands over an Ultra Portable Computer. Her roll out keyboard was flashing headlines and stock information on the table in front of her while she checked her email. As she heard the noise of Roland on the steps, she looked up and smiled then pointed over to a seat at the table. She turned off her UPD and went into the kitchen as Roland took his seat. She returned a moment later with a plate of food and another cup for her guest. Roland dived into the food, his appetite returning to him with a vengeance. One bite of the fine fare stopped him in his tracks.

“These eggs, are they fresh?”
“Yes they are, I have a friend a few blocks down who is raising roof chickens. I get a few eggs every couple of days in return for some herbs from my patio garden. I usually try to keep them for baking purposes or to add to another dish, but when I decided to cook this morning, I thought you could use a treat.”

Roland was sipping the hot caffeine and nibbling the eggs and spiced steamed spinach with a relish, “Thank you. This is some of the nicest food I have eaten, so much better than the condensed soy meals I am used to. I am sorry to have to be so rude, but you have never told me your name?”
The woman laughed and sat her cup down on the pale white saucer. She held out her hand to Roland and said,” I am sorry, it has been rude of me not to say. My name is Ventira.”

The two shook hands and smiled, both glad to be in the presence of a new friend. Roland quickly forgot any other pleasantries in the taste of good food and drink. All too soon he was finished with his meal and stood up to take his dishes to the kitchen. Ventira stopped him with a hand and took the plate and silverware. After putting them in the flash incinerator for cleaning, she came back to the table and sat.

Roland surprised her by speaking before she could say anything, “Has there been any word in the news about my family?”
“It seems that the building you were in caught fire and burned to the ground, several people inside died before fire prevention crews could contain the blaze. There were several families in the building that were not registered, illegal immigrants and vagrants mostly. I am sorry that all of this happened.”
Roland nodded and said, “Thank you, it really hurts but I know someday I will be with them in paradise.”
“Have you ever thought about how hard it must be for the people around us not to really know that?”
“Well I often asked my mom and my uncle how they could not just know there is a God. They said that with people, the belief in God came with Faith, but that without faith, there was no certainty. I just always knew God was there. I mean it is kind of like a part of me, I know God is with all of us.”



“Roland, do you understand what happened last night?”
“I suppose,” Roland replied, “it’s just hard to believe something like this could happen. It just wasn’t like I thought it would be…”
“Tell me what you know about all this.”

Roland stood and began to pace the floor next to the table, his hands griping each other next to his chest as he spoke, “Okay, I am a Terrapyre, just like Brian, Anna, Aunt Viv and my Dad. We are part angel and part human.”
“Not quite. We are a new race on Earth, Roland. While we are the descendents of Fallen Angels and humans, we are more and less than either of those two races. We are unique.”
“Right, yea. Dad would say it like that too. He said that we Terrapyres are here to try to find the Grail and seek Redemption, but that there are these others…”
“Celestials”
“Right, Celestials. These Celestials come from another place, like another world. They seem to want the Grail as well and we must get it before they do.”

Ventira stood up and walked over to him. She put her hand on his and softly pressed them back to his sides. “Yes, that’s right. The Celestials seemed to be bent on finding the Grail and trying to destroy it, although I am not sure why. We do know that we Terrapyres and the Celestials have been waging a war over the Grail for centuries. We must find the Grail and stop the Celestials from whatever they are planning. Now that you are growing up you are beginning to Awaken and will soon take your place in the fight for the Grail.”
“Awaken?”
“Yes, when a Terrapyre child reaches puberty their skills and abilities become manifest. These gifts from God are what you will use to try to overcome the Celestials and find the Grail.”
“So what was that vision that happened to me in the shed? Was that part of all of this? I have had it happen a few times before. Where suddenly I am seeing and feeling memories that aren’t mine.”
“That is a part of Awakening. We seem to be able to visit other memories from other times and people. I call it nonlinear memory. Whatever you call it, it does mean that occasionally you will have memories from the past and maybe even the future. It just depends on the specifics of your gifts. Don’t worry about them, though. I promise soon you will be able to control the rush that comes from having a memory episode.”

Roland paced away from Ventira, studying a beautiful bulb of Lilies in a large porcelain vase. “My dad told us all about this, but this is so different from what he talked about. He made it sound like the fighting was just over the Grail. That it was so far away. We were supposed to have plenty of time to grow up and learn what we could do. What am I going to do now?”

“You will stay with me,” Ventira said as she studied his back, straightening out her own as she did so. “I was born in the year 1776, not far from where we stand now. I have been a part of this for a long time. Now I wish no part of further battles. I look for a way to gain the Grail and find our Redemption without further bloodshed. I do not believe that this war is right, but I will teach you what you are and what you will become. Maybe you can find a way to stop all of this that I have not.
Roland ran his hand though his hair and smiled. Looking back to Ventira he said, “I would really like that. When can we start?”
“Tonight.”

[Admin]

Fri Oct 10, 2008 6:58 am

Pip wrote:

Really into this, Matt. I'm a player not a writer but I like to read the fiction. It adds to the depth of the game play and MG3K really has a great rpg aspect to it. I think it's cool that you're so open with your ideas and sharing your story. Really matches the whole open universe thing. EJ is right. You're really nailed the Immortals.

Pip

[Admin]

Fri Oct 10, 2008 8:22 pm

Laughing Clown wrote:

Very nice to see another writer who respects the prowess that Terrapyres certainly have but that recoignizes the brutal nature that Celestials -- espeically Gwandii Celestials -- encompass. When imagining Eris, I knew that he had to be a Gwandii, not just because of the carded character's colors but because of the nature of that province both geographically and mythologically.

Great work, Matt. Very good pacing.

Eric

[Admin]

Fri Oct 10, 2008 10:39 pm

papa nurgle wrote:

Thank you both for your kind words. With my new found knowledge of the Celestial true form I will be editing and expanding my last update to reflect that knowledge as well as adding more to the story. I am looking to begin poor Roland's training and of course how are the Celestials able to find our Lairs. There will be information on who are behind the rogues and back story on Ventira in the upcoming updates so those who are enjoying please stay tuned.

[Admin]

Sat Oct 11, 2008 4:53 am

papa nurgle wrote:

The old Emerson “Bromo Seltzer” Clock Tower had stood in Baltimore since 1911. Built by Captain Issac Emerson, the inventor of Bromo Seltzer Antacid, it was modeled after the Palazzo Veccio in Florence, Italy. It was built to be a stunning achievement in design and to be an attraction for visitors from around the world. At one time it even became a series of lofts for great artists to be inspired by the city and harbor. With time however, comes new innovation and architecture. The old tower was left to quietly molder away, more of a curiosity that anything else, while bigger, grander buildings grew up around it. Now it had a new purpose, it was the outpost for a rogue Celestial faction in the citiplex. It was now home to Voga and his allies.
Within the crumbling brick and concrete walls of the building’s atrium entrance, flickering old florescent lights could barely hold at bay the gloom that sat heavily in the air. A long abandoned front desk now served as a staging area for yellowed fliers about sales long since past and bands that were no more. Beyond the front desk, a pair of elevators sat in a dead end hall, the mechanisms sounding off in surprise, should someone hit their call buttons. Into this dead end hall walked the three Celestials who instead of using the elevator simply walked through the wall ahead of them into their own space.

The outpost the three entered was awash in ribbons of light and color. The warp folded space shimmered and wobbled like a soap bubble afloat in the breeze. Here the three let their Ornate form drop away and allowed their True form to come forth. The bodies of each of the Celestials were smooth and hairless. Their forms looked like living Ken dolls ablaze with the colors and intensity of their emotions and the emotions around them. The three took a moment to call out to the outpost mentally for comfort and relaxed on instantaneously appearing bubble cushions. All of them wanted to rest after a somewhat successful venture. Vega looked at the two of his subordinates, the bright golden reds of pride and accomplishment flowed over his body to mix with the clashing purple of nagging concerns. His thoughts became one with theirs in a bright hot call.
:::Well struck compeer Lumina and Halley. Our Reil will be pleased with this. We shall continue our search for the Dogs of Christ and eliminate those who would keep us from the Grail.:::
::: True Ne Voga, but what of the boy we lost?:::
Voga stood and turned to Halley as the last of her thought trailed to him, flashes of embarrassment and anger raced across his form.
:::He will be dealt with in time. Now I go to rest before daybreak, I suggest you both do the same.:::
Voga than placed his hand by his side. His pok, a small sphere of warped space, opened to his touch and his hand disappeared within it. From the pok Voga pulled another bundle of warp space and placed it on the wall of the outpost. His matique flowed with the wall of the outpost and blossomed into another room. He stepped into the private chamber and the walls of the matique closed behind him, the rippling surface of the outpost made whole once again.
Lumina turned to Halley, allowing the bubble cushion to ebb and flow with her body. Her body began to flow with the colors of satisfaction and relaxation. The lovely hues of dark and light blue turned her true form into what looked like a living sculpture of velvet. Her thoughts merged with Halley’s in a staccato of mental music, like raindrops on piano keys.
:::Voga carries a brak deth in him. It allows him to make choices many on Hom would not. They would think of what we are doing as simple har’deth. To simply eliminate the Terrapyres without engaging in battle over the Grail seems wrong somehow.:::
:::Compeer Lumina, you must remember that Voga lost his entire roe’ti in the last Dazear the Grail brought to Hom. The loss of that magnitude must pain him terribly. Such an ache never heals, it only lessens. We must remember that what he does now he does with the will of the Council behind him. The Terrapyres have never listened to negotiation and it does not look like they ever will. What we do now will save thousands of lives on Hom. Now I go to rest, I wish you riehnui.:::



As Halley stood and opened her own matique, Lumina watched her with eyes of starlight and darkest night. Once Halley was lost to her own space the comfortable blues of Lumina’s form shifted quicker and quicker to the cold hues of concern and possibly even doubt. If I were to follow anyone through this strange world, I know it would be Voga, but now… Lumina stood and looked out beyond the extra spatial walls of the outpost to the world beyond.
Lumina was a Homid from Gwandiis, a province of soldiers and warriors on her home world. Since she could barely walk she had been trained in the warrior arts of combat and the drills to instinctively follow her superiors. When her pa’che would work with her on the philosophies of tactics and weapons drills she followed their instructions without hesitation. She was the epitome of loyalty to her world and to the cause here on this tiny emotionally derelict blue green world. So why did she feel concern over her compeers’ orders? Voga had showed her and Halley that they were from the Council of Hom itself.

Lumina walked through the wall of the outpost back into the clock tower, its interior beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn. Now she reached into her pok at her side and pulled a set of tightly wrapped clothes from it. She stood and concentrated for several moments, letting the quiet of the tower fill her. Suddenly where Halley once stood, a young redheaded human was now in her place. Halley smiled at the feeling of the morph and quickly dressed the naked frame. Now that she was suitably attired, Halley left the tower to investigate the citiplex some more, her heart lightening with the first rays of morning.
Once outside the tower, Lumina took a moment to look through her now human eyes. While the colors around here were the muted tones of plascrete and rusting metals, the morning light made those tones shine with a beauty all of their own, unknown on her own world. The smell of salt water from the harbor and the stink of humanity’s habitat seemed so much more clear that the smells of her world. She smiled at the thought of so many worlds, each so different and her good fortune to have seen so many. The more somber rationale of why she was here crowded into her enjoyment of the moment. She would find more of the lairs of the Terrapyres. She would find them and if Voga and Halley agreed, she would help in the Terrapyres destruction.

Voga paced in the small quarters of his matique. It took the Celestial time to rein in his passions and once calm, he found himself standing in the center of his room. The space where Voga now stood was in many ways like his home Biodome on Hom. He studied his work area, a desk of sleek Toku wood, its light pattern grain still vibrating with emotion. On the desk his hexpad and his luft crystal valise sat it perfect balance. Within the valise, Voga stored his excess tools and weapons. Hematite marbles, each one keyed to another specific tool or weapon, sat quietly waiting for Voga’s desire to call them forth. A Toku wood chair of the same emotional hue as the desk sat waiting for Voga to return to work.
He had a sleeping area attached to one wall. The hammock like protrusion was layered with soft bedding of fluffy cloth, perfect to burrow into and dream deep. A stuffed torbu doll, the last gift he ever brought for his infant daughter, looked down at him with beaded eyes from his bedding. The thought of his darling daughter and the rest of his roe’ti now lost to the destruction of Grail fall, of Dazear, sent ribbons of black despair across him, its flat black only matched by the darkness behind the stars of his eyes. His emotions were racing and his true form became of rainbow of negativity and rage.
Voga realized sleep was now far away out of his reach. He took his seat and with a wave of his hand, activated his hexpad. A projected keypad materialized on his workspace and part of the wall in front of his workspace glowed with the opening spiral graph like start up screen. Voga raced his fingers across the keypad, manipulating the spirals and whirls of his screen until the keypad accepted his presence and opened up his personal storage node. Images of various suspected Terrapyres and personal profiles flowed across his screen. The latest intelligence that Halley and Lumina could acquire lit up the matique wall. Voga was certain that his next target was here in these nodes of information. He studied them until sleep could not be held back and he collapsed into his bedding.