Dragonball M, Chapter 2: Lighthouse! Across the Shores of Shattered Time!

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Ishtar offered a sigh, before nodding at Sihn.

"I will leave Stine alone ... for now."

Of more interest were the looks of concern -- bordering displeasure -- that she caught from both Shek'hinah, and Sihn. Clearly her gambit was not one looked toward fondly.

"Yes ... the deal I struck with him, was for information on the Threshling, and his people ... but he twisted the terms after the compact was sealed. A thing that loosened his grip, and proved him the liar I knew he was. Still ..." the Oni trailed off, before considering something.

"Not all is lost ... I am acquainted with a Threshling woman, daughter to their Queen ... who knows where Reshlan is; and thanks to the help of the future Guardian of the Chromakians -- Meagan -- we have thwarted their attempts at expansion by destroying their spacefaring capabilites."

The golden-eyed Oni sighed again.

"I know what I am building towards is far more dangerous than it seems ... this Hermit God has survived a long time, in the shadows ... but I would not see the duties of GoD fall by the wayside, even if it is not my station yet.

"So I will take all the help you can give me, Uncle Sihn."

Sihn pauses, a look of.....peace, happiness at her words of Uncle. Even a glimmer of tears perhaps.

He clears his throat and nods. Slowly he withdraws his gun and empties a single white bullet onto the table.

“Take it. That’s pure Creational Energy from Shima, a God of Creation. It packs a hell of a wallop. Use it on Auroc if things get bad. I can also give you some more of those HFIL fruits. Not all of you can benefit from them anymore to its full degree, but some of your friends can. And lastly......”

He holds a hand out, faintly glowing.

“Take my hand......niece.”

[Tami]

Wilhelm looks at Jinzi.

“Void.....dangerous. Have weapons....just in case.”

He nods and leaved back to his room.

Jinzi meanwhile puts a call in to his allies.

“I have a .......special guest....at CC right now. Asha’rah, Eva, Ishtar, or whomever, when you can I would suggest a meeting. She’s....not normal. Not something you’ve ever seen before. She’s..... of the Void.”

Meagan replied, "I'll be there, was planning on coming over anyway."

Shortly after, she takes to the air and makes her way to CC. She wasn't sure where the others were, but hoped they received Jinzi's call.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Sihn pauses, a look of.....peace, happiness at her words of Uncle. Even a glimmer of tears perhaps.

He clears his throat and nods. Slowly he withdraws his gun and empties a single white bullet onto the table.

“Take it. That’s pure Creational Energy from Shima, a God of Creation. It packs a hell of a wallop. Use it on Auroc if things get bad. I can also give you some more of those HFIL fruits. Not all of you can benefit from them anymore to its full degree, but some of your friends can. And lastly......”

He holds a hand out, faintly glowing.

“Take my hand......niece.”

At the sight of Sihn getting emotional, Ishtar blinked. It was certainly not something that she expected. Though in a way it was ... nice. After having gone so long without anyone but Zurvan, the Oni had a soon to be life-mate, a mother, an aunt, and another uncle ... a family.

When the moment passed however, Sihn offered more than Ishtar might have expected.

"Thank you ..." the golden-eyed woman managed, as she gingerly picked up the Bullet of Creation, before storing it securely. "The HIFL fruits will prove very uself, as well."

When he asked for her to take his hand however, Ishtar nodded slow and gently took it -- with the hand of flesh and blood -- before nodding again.

"Okay, Uncle."

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

It had taken months of following dead-end leads, and burning countless bridges ... but Aeliana had done it.

A lead to what her Lord was seeking, and more besides. Now it was simply a matter of doing as she was bid, and waiting for Nergal to arrive. Though as time progressed with no sight or sound of Nergal, the gears began to turn -- slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed -- and the Myrmadaris couldn't hep but consider the position she was in.

Shackled to a self-proclaimed God of Death, Nergal was ... certainly not where she'd hoped she'd end up after she left Myrmadar. Though given the state she had been in, she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers. Yet the path she'd gone from there was ... certainly haphazard. Moving from one world to the next -- usually with her 'Lord' -- quick on her heels as she scoured each for any trace of the objects he sought. Trinkets that well and truly made little sense to her, but seemed to hold some ... great fascination with Nergal himself.

Though that was ... another thing.

She knew little of her current Lord, beyond his current task, and his ... hunger ... a thing that had only grown since she had first come across him.

Though none of this was really what set her mind turning ... or made her second guess. Aeliana had nowhere else to go after all, and her Lord had simply offered her a suitable meal ticket. No, she was ... concerned, because over the course of the past six months -- at the absolute minimum -- there had been worrying signs that the 'God of Death' was not ... well, and his 'eating' habits had been the first sign.

When she first found him, Nergal had been content with a few stragglers -- like that wretch of a Saiyan -- but the longer they searched for those necklace fragments, the higher the amount; and with the last feeding ... he was consuming entire civilizations.

Another thing that she noticed, more, and more; was the way he seemed to speak to himself.

It wasn't something so simple as the occasional comment, or the way most tended to mutter and mumble as they turned things over in their mind -- like Aeliana herself was doing now -- it was almost as if he was having entire conversations in his head, arguments even. At times it seemed as if he was ready to come to blows with himself ... and then he would look at her ... and while Myrmadaris were not known for fear, it sent a shiver up her spine each and every time.

Then there was the matter of his growing strength.

What had first been a few thousand , had quickly blossomed -- usually after each feeding -- until it had dwarfed her own strength, and then some. Almost as if the souls he consumed empowered him ... but with what little Aeliana herself knew of magic, and the matter of souls; such a thing seemed impossible, and more than that it simply felt ...

"... Wrong."

At the sound of her own voice, the woman muttered something under her breath and took a drink. She was waiting in a bar after all, even if it was an empty one... and one she'd emptied herself, to keep Nergal from sucking them dry.

Which meant it was just her ...

and she still had no idea what to do, if her Lord took that look further than simply glaring ... because she couldn't fight him off, not anymore. Perhaps when he had been weaker -- no she was sure, when he was weaker -- but she hadn't realized until it was too late what it was eating souls did for him. Now here she was, at the beck and call for a man that was almost assuredly insane ... who likely wished to eat her; with no plan on how to get out of it but keep her head down and hope for the best ... though in the end it was only a matter of time before she was forced into a decision ...

As if on cue the space behind the counter rippled briefly, and the Myrmadaris sighed.

Speak of the Devil.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

"Ah, there you are." Nergal commented, as soon as he materialized in front of Aeliana.

"Now tell me, quickly. What have you found."

The Myrmadaris -- quick to stow the bottle she held -- nodded, and after bowing her head low as a show of subservience, spoke quickly. "My Lord, after scouring this sector of space I have found that there was an ... incident some months prior, between a group of would-be slaves, and slavers that ended on this Asteroid." Before Nergal could express his annoyance that such was not relevant to him, Aeliana continued.

"The Oni you seek, Ishtar ... was among them. So too, it seems, was a Draconian girl, and mother; who offered a young Saiyan a necklace ... a necklace with a shard of the relic you seek ..."

Nergal was silent a moment.

This was news far better than he had anticipated. Aeliana had done ... well. And yet ... she was stronger than the rabble he had liberated of their bodies, back on Verandris ... so much stronger; and so full of life. Stepping forward, and placing his hands on the bar counter -- claws digging into the already pockmarked wood -- as he stared at his loyal servant.

Yet a voice, one of many, pierced the throbbing ache of hunger.

Thirsty already ? My my my ... The voice said, tauntingly. As if to imply his hunger was a weakness ... and at this the God of Death -- if self-proclaimed -- resisted the urge to grit its teeth.

"No ..."

Aeliana quirked an eyebrow behind her mask, yet opted to -- smartly -- remain silent.

It took some moments from there, to quiet the souls vying for control, but when the broken-horn Oni managed, he hissed sigh and straightened up.

"You have done ... well. Very well. Now ... where is the shard, now ?"

Unlike before, when the response had been swift and to the point however, Aeliana hesitated.

"That is ... unknown. The cameras on this rock, did not offer much. Though ... The blue Oni, Ishtar ... she seemed to stick close to the Saiyan-girl. They left together," the Myrmadaris finally offered before bowing her head once more. Though Nergal could see -- as Aeliana knew well -- that she was ... tense.

"Hm ... I see."

eathereathereatherEATHER !

The Oni-turned-God paced behind the counter, silently -- not quite -- considering what to say, and do, next. No no, she may yet prove useful ... done well she has this time, saved us hours, and days, and weeks ...

But what of Ishtar, she knows, she knows ! Clearly this child has served her usefulness ... And at this, the voice ringing in his head, had a point. Ishtar ... his cousin, no doubt knew where the Saiyan-girl was ... and she held the piece he needed to be whole. All he need do now, is simply track his cousin down. Both to see if she had transcended her station ... as their, his ... his hope; and to gain what knowledge she knew, of the ...

"Saiyan girl, was it ... ?"

Aeliana nodded, though inside the mind of the Myrmadaris, the gears were turning faster than ever.

After all ... Nergal was worse off than she had previously assumed.

From her vantage point, even with her eyes turned toward the ground, she could even feel it, as he paced too and fro, occasionally turning his piercing -- and hungry -- gaze toward her as he muttered and argued with the voices in his head; a thing that had months before only been seen in snippets now on full display.

And it was far worse, still as it seemed as if the Oni didn't even know.

Thankfully, Aeliana's training meant that she at least knew the fastest way off of this rock ... though knowing well she wasn't fast enough to outrun her 'Lord' -- a title that itself continued to mean less, and less the more she said it -- those exits meant little. She also had her teleportation device ... and while the range was far shorter than Nergal's own innate ability, she could buy herself time enough to think of something better, perhaps ...

"I see ..." Nergal muttered, before returning to his rumination.

Aeliana sighed silently, thankful to hear it as the Oni turned away to resume his impassioned self-debate. And while she was ready to act now, at a moment's notice, there was a small fragment of the Myrmadaris that believed that Nergal would leave her be; hope perhaps, but at least something to consider even as she weighed her options.

Though it seemed as if Nergal was coming to some manner of ... decision; as all at once, the Oni-turned-God's pace began to slow.

Now you see ... A third soul whispered to Nergal as he stood there with his back turned. What more can Aeliana offer now, beyond the gift of succor, and sustenance ? Though the broken-horn Oni himself remained silent in response ... allowing yet another soul cry out.

nothingnothingnothingNOTHING.

And Nergal sighed, but did not challenge ... It was another valid point. The woman had no more to offer beyond what she had just spoken now. And what use was a pawn when it had lived its usefulness ?

None ... a thing to be plucked from the board.

Still, she had done more than adequately, in her given tasks. Followed what little direction -- and explanation -- she had been given, and provided results that exceeded standard expectation for such weak things as mortals ... so for now it would be enough to simply consume the life on this bizarre asteroid. Perhaps return to the matter of consuming the Myrmadaris some time la-

Nergal stopped suddenly.

Set on consuming the life that persisted on this grimy asteroid, he could not for the life of him find any other souls beyond the one directly behind him. And when the souls inside of him realized this too, they all broke out into raucous laughter.

So much for ... preservation of the pawn ... a diminutive fifth soul, whispered. And ... tell me again ... what is a pawn ... ? Nergal turned slowly, and with a word shattered Aeliana's hope of a peaceful resolution.

"Aeliana ... you have severed me well."

The Myrmadaris lifted her head slightly, and swallowed hard.

"Thank you ... Lord. I live to serve ..."

The slate-grey Oni smiled down at his most loyal -- and only -- servant, and slowly started walking toward her. "And serve you have," he stated, stopping at the bar counter once more. "Though we are nearing the end of this ... journey of ours; and I would have you do one last thing." His oil-black nails rapped against the counter speaking more toward his intent than the honeyed -- though not untrue -- that he now offered; and Aeliana, now well aware of what was coming, made ready to act.

"What is it ... Lord ?" She asked, knowing well already, the answer.

"Feed me," came the straightforward response, both well aware of the words to follow; and for Aeliana it was now or never. "The En-" In the small confines of the Asteroid's Bar, the twin rapport of Xiphos, & Kopis echoed like thunder; and Nergal reeled as Aeliana's shots struck true ... though it was not blood that filled the air between them when the bullets found their mark, it was alcohol, and splinters of wood.

... Her target had been the bar counter.

And as Nergal reeled -- more from surprise, and the cacophony that resulted as the souls resumed their war for control -- the Myrmadaris quickly tapped in the coordinates of a nearby planet and vanished from the slate-grey Oni's field of view. Though he certainly felt her departure ... and with a bellow he lashed out at where his food had been, not a moment before.

"NO !"

Though in the end, it was too late ... she was gone.

The Oni-turned-God all but screamed. This was not how it should have gone. She was weaker. She was food ! How did she escape. Why, why, WHY ?! A soul spoke up to offer this insight, far more confident than it might have been before.

Took to long ...

Nergal's response was swift, and cutting. SILENCE ! ... or would have been, had the voice been wrong. Though now was not the time for gloating, the others knew, as much as he. They all knew well the Myrmadaris' range was limited, and she would be unable to leave this system without a means of deep space travel. So she would remain where she had found herself ... presuming of course she did not starve ... and he could collect her soul at his leisure.

For now however, he had more important things to attend to. So turning, the slate-grey Oni then shimmered, glimmered, and vanished once more.

Ishtar was closer now, than she had been six months ago ... all he needed to do was take the time necessary to locate her energy signature in among the stars ... "Soon Cousin ... I will see you soon. And with your help I will be made whole again."

----

And on the world Nergal left behind, a lone Myrmadaris felt the Oni's energy signature fade away to nothingness. And after several mínutes of this ... absence, Aeliana relaxed slightly, lowered her guns, and offered the desolate no-name planet a sigh.

"Alive for now ... but I'm sure he'll be back."

The Myrmadaris knew better than to think she was off Scott-free. Though as she began her search for something approaching life, she couldn't help but wonder ...

What the **** was she supposed to do now ?

[Tami]

Meagan replied, "I'll be there, was planning on coming over anyway."

Shortly after, she takes to the air and makes her way to CC. She wasn't sure where the others were, but hoped they received Jinzi's call.

Meagan lands nearby and walks into the building. Looking around, she get's a sense of where to go. "Jinzi..." She calls out to him.

[Cyke]

In hindsight, One might imagine Parsley would have realized she had made two very strategic blunders. Though one fed primarily off the other...

Firstly, she had banked on her Corona Flash being more successful then her blocked jabs. Yet by the very same mechanic Etrina had been employing to block her attacks, a well placed temporal displacement orb would lock her corona flash orb pre detonation even as it hovered above her hand.

Secondly, she closed her eyes....one does not close ones eyes in a battle without expecting an attack against them. Though the telltale signs had been there, the fact she had prepared herself was all the more tip Etrina needed to the nature of what she was holding in her hand. More importantly however.....

She had her eyes closed, holding an inert flashbang, in the middle of combat.

Rather then a blinding flash viewed from behind closed eyes, the saiyan received the most punishing blow the young mage had pull up yet...an uppercut, straight to the saiyans chin, followed up by a quick leap backwards and a shield to her own eyes as she dropped the time lock. With any luck, Parsley would be surprised enough by the attack and the lack of a bright flash to open her own eyes and see what happened.....at which point shes get a taste of her own attack just in time for whatever Zaofan seemed to be on his way over with.

Meanwhile, a few time zones away -- even a few storm systems away -- where the morning light has not yet reached the land, a lone, caped figure stands atop his citadel facing east towards the direction of the Lookout.



His senses reach across the gulfs, penetrating the dark mountains, hitting against powerful sources, pinging back to him in reconnaissance. His ki sense also picks up a source less powerful than his own, coming up from behind him. The figure does not turn but instead keeps it honed towards the Lookout.

The caped figure speaks with an ethereal voice, as a ghastly voice is echoed by the gravelly voice of a man. "Shinku No Manto. Have you been watching this bout?"



From the shadows, Shinku No Manto, aka the Crimson Cloak, an almost apparition draped in bony legs, hovers down and behind the dominating figure. "Master Shingen. The sun has risen in that area. My eyes would rather not How does your old disciple fare?"

Shingen, the caped figure, the Master of the Hokuten Shinken school, the Yokai Shogun, responds unmovingly. "Old disciple is one thing. He was never my best pupil, despite his potential. His power and skill is to be respected, but he failed my teachings long, long ago."

Shinku No Manto voices his curiosity. "Master, you've raised armies. You've taught legends of assassination. Why preoccupy yourself with that human?"

Shingen continues. "He is the one who got away, simply put. He defies my teachings. He refuses to kill. He made himself publicly known as a hero of the people. His very presence insults me and stands against everything I stand for. He lies about who he is for his own gain."

"That can't be it," says the ghost, his robes flapping eerily in the wind. "There's more to him than simple defiance, isn't there? Even from this range, I can sense it."

The shogun continues his watch like a vigilant statue into the darkness. "You can feel that he is surrounded by several strong powers and formidable magicians on that blasphemous floating palace. You can sense their collective battles and struggles. Right now, he is sparring with those powers, exerting himself with as much passion as when he was my student. But their powers are drenched in blood not of our world. HIS power reeks of that stench. He has come back darker. And I wonder, has he given in? Does he repent? Or does he seek to upend me? To replace me? He has seen evil and despair and apocalypse and he has returned. I wonder, how far does one go to completely change in order to challenge my throne? A throne of blood? A throne of copper and pestilence and misery? How is it that he left this material plane, to come back with the stains of darkness imprinted into his being and power?"

Finally, the Shogun turns his head slightly to the side to properly ask the Cloak more directly. "For someone who refuses to kill, how much blood did he truly spill, and how delicious will his soul taste? How will he empower me and restore YOUR proper self?"

The Crimson Cloak, Shinku No Manto, is thrilled at the question. His eyes widen as he asks, "How much reward would the torment of a hero bring to the both of us? And how do we access that evil realm from whence he came? Of all the killers and murderers on that floating palace of hypocrisy, the one I would look forward to meeting is your disciple...ZAOFAN!" And it is then that the Cloak's eyes glow in anticipation.

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Last Night:

A sheen gilded the skewered skin, and as its underside was slowly baked black the hiss and spittle of succulence escaped its untouched surface. The juices resolved in fatty droplets below where they fell into the fire to feed crackling, leaping tongues.

"That's because I didn't mention it," he replied. With a hundred gradual cuts, bird's flesh was rendered into a roughly-hewn paste. The meat mince was added to a pile resting in a dish, falling upon a pile of green and pale slivers which rest within yet more chicken.

"Much of it was spent training with Zao. We all know his valiance is without question, and though his vagabond habits may set his attentions adrift, it is that very taste for variety that drives him to engage all his pursuits with the greatest of integrity."

Ochazuke's thoughts briefly fell back to the reunion with their shared Dragon Master, and the howling winds that beset the glacier which locked that hidden secret from time and memory. A vision for the world, so feared by the jealous before it was betrayed and struck down by one of their own.

"I suppose the same thing drives us both in our shared task in rebuilding the foundation of the martial arts, to mend what was broken." Ochazuke lift the bird carcass, shed of its flesh, to where the bones of several others lay submerged in a boiling stockpot. "You most of all know well the weight of blind, brutal ambitions. What these things steal from the world, cowed to an ease only fear can bring for those who call themselves 'strong'."

He seized the skewer and turned it over the fire. A great flame spout upward and nearly licked the ceiling. The underside was singed; the both of them had waited but a moment too long.

"In a way, it is a legacy of sorts we hold in kind. If those who can do not fight for them, they will be lost. And so there remains much to be done, higher plateaus to reach, and another way to move beyond these bonds."

So spoken, Ochazuke plucked the sputtering lid off of the ceramic pot to reveal its contents:

*snip*

"Until I find my answer, I can neither idle or permit my eyes to close." Artfully rolling the meat into chunky spheres, he let them fall into the broth; the clarity of its separate elements soon bubbled over, rawness blending in thin opaqueness. As it cooked the richness of the dish coalesced all the greater, becoming greater than what meagre materials were laid within it. "For this, it shall require the highest efforts, no less."

Ochazuke pushed a ladle from the crowded surface deep into the pot and dragged it about the boil. Quickly he produced two portions, setting one before Sarada, following with a setting of rice, and a setting of a bright green tea. He did so without asking, simply knowing all too well the burdensome appetite she would not voice aloud for pride's sake, besides the rapt attention that glued her eyes to the stove.

It is not a beggar's craft to accept, not a coward's to gift, where one sees some quality worth respect. Without words then he raised a cup to this silent understanding.

"What about you? You're clearly not dressed to train." He added shortly, looking her dead in the eye as he took a long, slow sip.

As the masterfully prepared dishes were slowly and tantalizingly reaching the point of consumption, Ochazuke gave his answer. Much of his time was spent training with Zaofan. It was a grand assumption, but she had a feeling that training was under the watchful eye of the dragon disciple Balon, the man she and Zaofan met at the tournament last year. The man had all the markings of a fine teacher, and if her assumption was right, then the two martial masters of the group she found herself attached to had learned well.

He spoke of a drive that compelled him as much as Zaofan, and their shared goal of restoring the martial arts. It was a lofty goal. She didn't know for sure, but it sounded like the web that bound the martial arts of this world together was an expansive one. Many schools with many different philosophies, teachings, outlooks, and goals for their students. Bringing them all under one banner required sifting through the egos and pride that naturally came with believing that one's school and its teachings were the right way.

Then again, Sarada may have been way off base. She was about to ask when he mentioned the blind and dangerous ambitious of those that claim themselves strong. Her eyes darkened for a moment as thoughts of the blight that Otatop IV brought on the people who subjected themselves to him. Five hundred years of tyranny, oppression, and genocide. The good name Vocado and the Guardians worked so hard to create and maintain, gone in a manner of years. It filled her with nothing but disgust.

"I do know. More than you may think. My entire race was turned into the oppressive monsters you may have heard of just because of one man." There was the unmistakable tinge of anger lacing every word; behind that, however, was the equally unmistakable hint of sadness.

"I don't know anything about this world's martial arts, but if there are two better people to get it all straightened out than you and Zao, I haven't met them." The vote of confidence from the Saiyan Queen was followed immediately by the roar of the Saiyan's stomach as the top was taken off the stew that had been simmering since she got there. Meats, beans, potatoes, vegetables; it was too scrumptious looking to even imagine how it tasted.

Fortunately, she didn't have to. Ochazuke understood the appetite that plagued her people, and her constant need for sustenance to live a healthy, stable life. In silence, he scooped her a bowl of the stew and handed it to her, a simple nod denoting his understanding. She nodded in return. "Thanks." She turned the skewer over so the side that had been on top could be licked and cooked by the fire underneath.

"I originally came to train and fight Jagam," she admitted as she ate the food given to her. "But now that he's dead, I have to return home. I'm leaving tomorrow morning so I can resume my royal duties." His stare had been unnerving when she first met him, but now she could meet it easily. "At my coronation, I made a promise to see Jagam dead. I could have sent anyone in my stead, but I knew that to earn the trust of someone, promises need to be kept and fulfilled personally."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

At the sight of Sihn getting emotional, Ishtar blinked. It was certainly not something that she expected. Though in a way it was ... nice. After having gone so long without anyone but Zurvan, the Oni had a soon to be life-mate, a mother, an aunt, and another uncle ... a family.

When the moment passed however, Sihn offered more than Ishtar might have expected.

"Thank you ..." the golden-eyed woman managed, as she gingerly picked up the Bullet of Creation, before storing it securely. "The HIFL fruits will prove very uself, as well."

When he asked for her to take his hand however, Ishtar nodded slow and gently took it -- with the hand of flesh and blood -- before nodding again.

"Okay, Uncle."

He grins and his eyes glow golden. For the first time, Ishtar feels a power beyond Genesis’s within Sihn. A good, balanced power. A little bit of it trickles into Ishtar and pools in her energy reserves, like a cat nestling into a comfy pillow.

He lets go and nods.

“That’s a last ditch escape. Use that energy and you can come here straight away. Mortal beings normally cannot come here, it’s shielded, unless brought by another like myself or Sheki. That power is a one time only use, and it will allow you to come here from no matter where in existence you are.”

He looks at a watch and sighs.

“Time for you to be heading back. Me and Sheki have to talk about her taking back her role in Otherworld and your inventor friend is in need of your help. Farewell and good hunting, Ishtar. Be safe, and kick their asses.”

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Meagan lands nearby and walks into the building. Looking around, she get's a sense of where to go. "Jinzi..." She calls out to him.

“In here.”

[Tami]

“In here.”

Hurrying over to him, she looks...then asks him, "What is going on here?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Hurrying over to him, she looks...then asks him, "What is going on here?"

Jinzi scuffs his foot and looks abashed.

“Well....I may have been....influenced...into doing something. Promise you won’t be mad?”

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

He grins and his eyes glow golden. For the first time, Ishtar feels a power beyond Genesis’s within Sihn. A good, balanced power. A little bit of it trickles into Ishtar and pools in her energy reserves, like a cat nestling into a comfy pillow.

He lets go and nods.

“That’s a last ditch escape. Use that energy and you can come here straight away. Mortal beings normally cannot come here, it’s shielded, unless brought by another like myself or Sheki. That power is a one time only use, and it will allow you to come here from no matter where in existence you are.”

He looks at a watch and sighs.

“Time for you to be heading back. Me and Sheki have to talk about her taking back her role in Otherworld and your inventor friend is in need of your help. Farewell and good hunting, Ishtar. Be safe, and kick their asses.”

When the power was passed over, Ishtar relished the feeling, not just of power beyond Genesis, but the balance felt therein. And when her uncle explained, the golden-eyed Oni nodded slow. A means to return to this room, was a powerful thing indeed ...

"I will save it for when it is needed, and not a moment before." Ishtar said then, smiling up at her uncle before he checked the time.

"I understand. Thank you for seeing me, and I am glad to have finally met you ... perhaps in the future such a thing could be more frequent, perhaps when the straits are not so dire."

Collecting her things -- and what Sihn had given -- Ishtar gives her mother, and uncle both a quick hug before giving the nod.

"I am ready to go."

OT: How many HIFL fruit does she have ?

[Tami]

Jinzi scuffs his foot and looks abashed.

“Well....I may have been....influenced...into doing something. Promise you won’t be mad?”

"It has to do with that weird space suit thing, right? the one Praxat kept hovering around while Isthar and I dealt with your problem." Meagan tilted her head, then smirked, "I'll only be mad if I have to fight another world destroying alien as a result."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"It has to do with that weird space suit thing, right? the one Praxat kept hovering around while Isthar and I dealt with your problem." Meagan tilted her head, then smirked, "I'll only be mad if I have to fight another world destroying alien as a result."

Jinzi blanches.

“Well.....not exactly an alien per se...”

Wilhelm comes back in with a strange shotgun looking weapon in hand and a slim, silvery neddle blade on his hip.

“Voidling. Dangerous. But not...necessarily....evil.....”