#campaign: omerta nostra

[aevumisles]

EPILOGUE.

As the Echoes traverse through Sonare Isle, their wits and constitutions are tested through thick and thin. Eventually, they may find their way out through a MEDLEY, or perhaps on the back of the great SONATA RAYS.

Those who sought after the lost girl, SANDY TYLERSEN, will find her trapped within a coda, and not particularly keen on getting out of it. Her ambitions of fame and fortune fulfilled, wrapped inside the arms of her own dream, it takes great fortitude and a sobering countenance to remind Sandy that she has a family waiting for her back home....

Those who sought after the MISSING ARTIFACT within the grasp of the highest bidder, a member of the general populace of Sonare Isle. It can still be recovered and returned to the Arcanus Museum in due time...

"Conductor, if I may," said Octavia. She awaited his acquiescence before continuing. "It seems that the young Arcanus girl managed to escape from the Coda. No doubt it was the work of the Echoes who were searching for her." The Conductor glanced up from the silver goblet bowl at his desk. "Well, I can't say I'm really surprised," the goblet sloshed with his broad gesture, and the tinkling of small bells sounded. He let out a dry 'tsk'. "Ah, well. I'd say we'd welcome her back but the conceited ones always get a so dull." "She did seem rather taken with the prospect of such glory ... but are you certain we should have let them find her?" He clucked his tongue and wound his arm around Octavia's shoulders. "You miss the forest for the trees, my hyper-scrupulous friend. After an Ambitus like that? She's going to have the most miserable time going back to ordinary life. And is that not a downfall worth watching?" "Well. I do suppose when you put it that way—" "—That I am absolutely diabolical?" "Positively dastardly." Beat. "...What about the Echoes, sir? They now know Omerta lurks in the shadows." The Conductor nodded. "And now they are never going to forget it," he grinned, then downed the last remnants of silver in the goblet. "In the very least, I would love to see them try."

INTRODUCING: THE VICES.

As activity across the isles stir alongside the summoning of the Echoes, it seems that the Isle's own powers have been set in motion as well. The Aevum Isles are filled with Aercon of all creeds, but none are as dominant as THE VICES, four powerful Aercon with special abilities unique to each Vice, and the heads of the infamous OMERTA NOSTRA. As of the Omerta Nostra Campaign, The Vice of the Mind, THE CONDUCTOR, is now available for implementation in-universe.

(YOU CAN READ MORE ABOUT THE CONDUCTOR HERE.)

THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING!

All Echoes who participated in Omerta Nostra will accrue the following benefits:

Aevum Isles awards 500 Emblems for participation in Campaign Events. 

In-Universe, Echoes who assisted with the MISSING PERSON'S CASE will be rewarded 5,000 keys.

In-Universe, Echoes who assisted with the MISSING ARTIFACT QUEST will be rewarded between 1,000-10,000 keys.

NOTE: You MAY write epilogue drabbles concerning the two Omerta Nostra quests and/or your Echo's escape from Omerta Nostra. These must be tagged accordingly. The MISSING ARTIFACT QUEST will be available for non-campaign threads until 09/07.

[mischiefmodig]

Omerta Nostra Pt. II \ / @magnusmodig

The nightmare was only getting worse. Loki's mind bore the memories of his death all over again. The spear through the chest. The crush of his throat. And now it was the fall. He'd woken on a platform with no end to the black pit that was underneath him. He tried to call out for anything, anyone that could help. But one by one the tiles that he stood on dropped into the voice.

There was nothing to hold onto, there was nothing that he could do but fall. Helpless. Falling in darkness. Stars had formed around him as that black hole appeared beneath his feet. He felt it. The crushing weight around him while he felt his body torn apart.

❝ Stop this- STOP THIS NOW!! ❞

Without warning he crashed onto a floor. A room. With a gasp, he shot up to look at his surroundings. Now there was a ceiling above him and around him stretched an infinite wall of books. He sat on the floor for quite some time, clutching his chest and feeling his neck. He knew he died. What sort of hel was this?

That's when he heard it. The sound of a sword dragging across the carpeted floor. The sounds of burning, explosions, and cries of people being slaughtered. Then the voice "hear me... and rejoice."

Loki didn't know which direction it came from. His mind deceived him, for the library walls appeared unscathed despite what his ears told him. So he ran. He ran until the sounds were gone. He could have been running for minutes, for days but it didn't matter. The foul creature that tortured him now would not catch him again. Loki could not let it. He couldn't bear the curse that wracked his dreams and stole his sleep. He would feel shame from his fear, his weakness - if that fear was not the thing that drove him to madness.

Once he'd made distance, where the sounds were lessened. He collapsed on the ground. Emotions swelled in his mind, and his heart trembled through his body. Now was not the time to falter. He had to go - but go to what? home? he had no such thing, even before Ragnarok he'd made himself an outcast. And death had made it permanent. He was as alone as he'd ever been, fighting for something impossible.

He found himself stumbling backward into one of the shelves. He fell to the ground, a book falling down with him and landing open at his side ( The pages of these books were blank. ) Loki did not notice. His knees curled into his chest, and his face buried in them. Hands wrapped around his head as he sought to hide himself from the world. There was too much. It was too much.

He was lost.

[enduringdevotion]

Bonded by Circumstance ||@bloodicdfeathers||

After trying to break the idiot old man out of his head strong charge then rushing and almost breaking the door down to get Astarion to go after him, he was now left alone with this strange kid he had no idea who the hell he was.

"Nico, meet my son, Xuan. Xuan, my son Nico. Play nice."

Gods, both of his 'dads' love to adopt the sad looking ones. Now he was left wondering how the other acted as he shouldered the massive hunk of metal on his spine.

The soldier reaches into his pocket, bypassing the smokes as he decides best to be less imposing... Well, as much as one can with a massive gun.

He pulls out a sucker, tearing the plastic off the top and pops it in his mouth, looking around the love hotel. Ugh, it was as bad as he imagined. He rests his gun against the wall carefully, rolling his shoulders to crack them.

He sniffs the air, scenting the space and looked to the other.

"They'll be fine. If anyone can get those two out, it's each other." There's a frown as he tries to place the scent. "Why do I smell blood? You got injuries that need patching?" He imagined Astarion would have already done so, especially seeing his dad's signature clothes on the human.

"Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Whatever Astarion said about me, it's not true, unless it was how cool I am." He flashes the other a grin around the candy, turning his hand over to reveal he was offering the other a sucker too. "You look like you could use something sweet to ease the day."

[magnusmodig]

𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . something . but thor would be REMISS to say that he was paying attention. FOUR DAYS had passed since they had first laid foot in this realm , and it only ever grew curiouser and curiouser.

clouds had begun to gather in the distance , and with them : A BELL TOLLED . most of the aercon continued about their way as they all shouldered between the haphazard streets of ragtime way , nary paying the skies any heed. and so it was that loki had continued speaking whilst thor's mind had begun to wander far - afield .

this : A NOT - SO - RARE OCCURRENCE. truly and in many ways , thor echoed the young prince of days of old as his steps slowed. his eye skimmed the clouds upon the horizon. the winds picked up , GUSTING past loki's shoulder in a burst of wary , restless energy.

@mischiefmodig / campaign .

[windfavord]

This island is much different from the other one-- a whole new set of secrets and strange phenomena, connected yet distinct from Arcanus. That was much more interesting to the Wanderer than lingering around and dealing with messy, complicated human relationships.

Here seemed to be where all this realm's scum gathered. From the shady to the bloodthirsty, the puppet looks down upon them even as he might consider himself one of their number, and as of yet he hasn't decided whether he would rather beat them or infiltrate them, considering that they seemed to be the ones running everything on the island behind the scenes.

Much easier to reach than the mysterious Aether and the enigmatic guardians.

Of course, the question remains as to who and how to approach first... a question that it turns out will be answered for him, as a group of a half-dozen or so mercenaries bearing the double-sharp insignia approach.

The Wanderer lifts his gaze, eyes narrowed, small frown upon his lips.

"You've been hanging around here for awhile," one of the men says with a sneer, "Pretty little thing like you should know better than to go poking around this part of town on your own."

"Unless, that is, you're here looking for some fun," another pipes up. "In that case... we're more than happy to oblige."

They're all taller and bulkier than he is, and he's severely outnumbered-- but the Wanderer isn't intimidated in the slightest. Mere humans, no doubt some low-ranking thugs judging by their equipment and mannerisms... He rolls his eyes, releasing a sigh, then a faint chuckle.

"It seems that no matter where you go, humanity can't help but produce an endless stream of garbage," he intones, voice almost bored as he reaches up to adjust his hat.

One of the men looks a little uneasy, but the biggest and burliest-- the group's clear leader-- seems offended instead. "Let's just take this brat somewhere quiet," he says, gesturing for some of the others to seize the puppet--

But they don't get far before a loud scream of pain echoes across the square-- in a movement almost too quick to react to, the Wanderer's already snapped the forearm of the man closest to him. He shoots a glare toward the leader. "A proper hunter should be more careful when choosing its prey."

Of course, those who live by strength wouldn't back down from a fight. And this time, it's he who is willing to oblige. Not a moment later, an all-out brawl has broken out, one delicate blue-and-white figure against a group of rather vicious-looking mercenaries.

@chaoticclaybomber

[windsofcourage]

HE HADN'T LET GO OF her hand save the few spare moments he had to — & . then only to ghost his palm against the back of her shoulder . first , guiding through the coda corridors / shifting past glowing ruins / squeezing through patterned corridors . then , OUT INTO THE TWILIGHT where the sun bleared . link squinted , raising his free hand to shield from the glaring horizon line . shadows cast long across the path , falling dizzyingly into focus . better THAT than the inside of that blasted tower at any rate .

STILL , HE MARCHED ONWARD , feeling the weight of her hand in his hand around a numb palm & . the prickling in his fingertips . the cityscape shifted — & . link was used to that by now . the way the roads twisted & . the back alleys turned — like stumbling over forgotten things / floors & . steel blade slick with the waters that dripped off the hovering blight's horned - helm . HE DIDN'T REALLY KNOW WHERE THEY WERE GOING / where he was taking her / knew it didn't matter / circling back to ragtime way was E A S Y irregardless of whether he could feel his own feet ( were they his feet ? ) on the ground . as long as they were safe , he didn't care .

WHAT EXACTLY COUNTED AS "SAFE" , HERE ?

the best he could offer was familiar .

SO HE PRESSED ONWARD . at least long enough until the rising tomb tower was far behind them . taking the dead with it . until the familiar sights of ragtime way's pavilion sprawled around them . HERE , at least link knew where he was going . roughly speaking , anyways . it did not ease the rattling in his bones the way he'd have liked it to — but having slowed his step and swept his sights over the perimeter , he NODDED SLIGHT anyhow .

it would just have to suffice .

THE SILENCE BREAKS . link heard his own voice a beat delayed .

❝  — . . . you okay? ❞

@silentaura / omerta nostra

[drunkelreporter]

He'd chased the fleeing form of Astarion through the streets, calling a few times as he ran after his lover. But the elf had only glanced back with a stricken look full of grief and fear before continuing to flee, dodging around what few people were out and about. The reporter cursed and growled under his breath but continued on. If he couldn't catch up, maybe he could corner Astarion wherever he ended up trying to hide. He didn't realize that he'd never be able to catch a vampire if he wasn't being led, only continued to chase in desperation.

The abandoned looking building Astarion slipped into made all the hairs on the back of Roberto's neck stand on end. Warning vibrated through his bones, the same sort of animal instinct that had sang in his blood when Wolfwood had first gave the group his predator's smile.

This is not a place for a human like him.

'You should have waited for Wolfwood, he could have handled it for you.'

The voice is kind, as Vash always is. Kind to a fault, even when there's a hint of something a little condescending about his tone. He doesn't mean it, not really, but it's probably hard to feel anything but superior to a normal human, unenhanced and past his prime. Ants, Roberto thinks, we are ants to him. But the words do cause him to square his shoulders and head inside the building.

He can't rely on the kids, he needs to find Astarion himself.

The inside of the building is not as he expected it to be.

It's metal plating, sleek and clean, lights much brighter then the twilight of outside. The corridor before him goes on and on and he doesn't see a single indication of Astarion's passing. Where'd he go?

"Star? Sweetheart?" He calls, derringer clutched warily and ready for a fight. Slow steps echo with each impact of his boots, ringing louder then they had any right to.

He... doesn't know how long he'd been walking. The corridor keep going and going, until--

'Oh look, it's you again. Did you not have enough the first time?'

The girl that's appeared behind him makes his blood freeze in his veins. It doesn't matter that she's so much smaller then him, it doesn't matter that her appearance is the very definition of innocence. She's a bloodthirsty monster in a vaguely human skin and his side pulses with agony at the sight of her. Roberto doesn't even entertain the idea of standing to fight; he turns and tears down the hallway as fast as he can. Breath wheezes in his lungs, terror and pain siezing the air he needs, but he keeps going, bolting deeper into hallways that twist and turn and double back and around.

Childish giggles echo behind him.

'One, two, what will you do, three, four, when we go to war. Five, six, I know all your trick, seven, eight, open my gate. Nine, ten, kill you again.'

'You can't fight her, all you do is run. All you ever do is run.'

"Nico-"

'He's right you know, all you did was try to run away from everything. You tried to make me run too! I'm an adult, I can do this!'

"Meryl!" He reaches out but her coat slips through his fingers and she runs away from him, determined to put herself in danger again and again. He can't stop it, can't seem to impress caution onto her, and when he lurches after her the stone beneath his boots crumbles away. She falls, he falls, down into depths he doesn't know.

Ice cold water closes over his head and his scream gets swallowed by the tide, Meryl vanishing into the pitch darkness.

'You can't save them, not a single one of them. You are not enough, not nearly. Perhaps, if it was you instead of young Nicholas on my table, might have gifted you with the resilience to guide them to survival. As it is, you are beneath even I, less then an ant in the presence of gods.'

A glow lights the water, cold and white, flashing and reflecting off of the impossibly sharp edges of a million blades. Stone parted like butter, the sides as sharp and smooth as glass as Roberto scrambled for purchase and only succeeded in slicing his hand open on the edges.

'You couldn't even protect us against human threats, why would you believe you had a chance to save them? Come on, father, you should have known better. I thought you'd accepted you couldn't save anyone a long time ago.'

He's drowning in every way, literal and metaphorical, and he couldn't breathe under the weight of accusing eyes if he had the air to draw in. It's a blessing when the water sweeps him away and spits him out on a jagged shore, coughing and choking. Even more of a blessing when he can't get up and darkness edges in around him. He should just lay here, let the place claim him. He's already dead, there's nothing left for him and if he can't protect his kids, if he can't save his boyfriend, why bother getting up? He'd tried to drink himself into a grave before, but this would be so much more simple.

All he needed to do was just lay here, accept his fate. Weary eyes drift closed, in this deep corner of the Coda he'd ran right into, and Roberto doesn't push himself up again.

@fangsanddaggers

[unluckyuncle]

Omeerta Nostra 𓅭𓅭𓅭𓅭 Open

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh nooooo... he was really in too deep this time.

He saw there was a girl missing. Poor kid got snatched by some creeps, and well he couldn't just sit on his rear end and do nothing about it. That wasn't the duck family way. There was no danger too scary, especially when innocents were at stake.

Except... he didn't exactly have his family to count on this time. It was a stroke of luck that he managed to get down to the train ( though it may have been bad luck, considering he wasn't even sure what the path out was. but he wasn't really the thinker in most adventures. he had simply tumbled down the staircase without much rhyme or reason. )

And now here he was wandering around the streets, looking for any sort of clue that could help him find this girl. He'd lost track of how many days it had been, he knew it rained once... maybe twice. But he couldn't give up. Especially not if there were others down here.

The duck was lost. Lost and alone too.

[hecrtled]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ THANKS TO LADY , A purrfectly knowledgeable she - cheshire , fawn had finally been able to track down where just about everybody had gone ahead and fluttered off to. it wasn't the most charming place , and there was a strange , OPPRESSIVE MAGIC about it that made her own wings feel heavy –  like carrying dead weight . . . — but that fawn had been told by lady that everyone had disappeared down here , and lady was a credible search ! BESIDES , it wouldn't hurt to explore.

AFTER SOME TIME SOARING high above the giant buildings and interlocking streets , fawn did come across somebody she was familiar with. familiar ears and bright red hair. if he didn't seem so distressed , she'd have JUMPED FOR JOY and hopped right over.

❛ . . . hey , lil' fella . . . ❜ tiny hands laid to rest gingerly across the back of cucumber's palm. a GENTLE WEIGHT , even if it was small. when she had successfully gotten his attention , fawn offered him an easy smile. ❛ did'ja get lost all the way down here? ❜

@magiccuco / omerta nostra !

[fellstcr]

⚔️ // byleth's flame cast a warm glow across the steps of the train station's walls , and dark shadows into its cracks and crevices. byleth treaded carefully , and had warned the others to do much the same. the station had always been something of an oddity in downtown arcanus. it was one of the few places that had always been left abandoned. and seemingly for a long while.

cobwebs were strung across the rafters high overhead , and the cool stone within which the station had been carved was rife with large cracks and crumbling debris from disrepair. ornate tiles that must have once brightly shone were faded and cracked , but still remained in the archways of the station.

byleth came to pause only when they had descended far enough to come across the archway that had read , in large ornate letters , sonata station. the ticket booth and entrance tunstiles were further within.

"this was the last place the girl seemed to have seen before her communications stopped," byleth noted, lifting her flame higher. "i'd imagine she went farther in. but let's take a good look around just in case."

@dragonhcrt / @chenshixianyou || detectives !

[aevumisles]

What would each guild do if an Echo killed one of their members?

Each guild will have a different cultural response compared to the last, but all in all, the ending result will be no good.

NOTE: The following descriptions will assume that an Echo attempts and successfully kills a low-to-mid ranking Guild NPC. Attempts on the four guild leaders can be attempted, but may not always be successful.

All murders and attacks on guild members (including their leaders) should have an in-universe news report submitted to @aevumdaily so that a response from the guild can be posted there.

THE NOCTURNE GUILD.

The Nocturne Guild has a complex series of checks and balances to ensure no member gets caught or killed. (Certainly not with any incriminating evidence leading back to the Guild.) As such, Keen-eyed Echoes who become enemies of the Nocturne Guild will find themselves stalked for a couple of months before action is taken. Once the Echo's threat capacity has been thoroughly investigated, the Nocturne Guild may offer the Echo a summons from none other than Libretto Fortismo himself. He will give the Echo two options: atone for their transgressions by way of owing the guild a favor, or receive a debt the Echo may have no chance of wiping out. (Generally the debt would be a debt of 10,000-100,000,000 keys or various important items to the Echo. This payment will be taken from the Echo in ways of keys and material possessions.) Refusing either option will put you on the "Hounds List", in which the Nocturne Guild will commission the Smorzando Guild to hunt the Echo down. If the member is of high enough rank, the Echo may even be spoken about with the Dal Segno Guild. (see: Dal Segno, below.)

THE SMORZANDO GUILD.

Getting on the bad side of the Smorzando Guild is an extremely foolish endeavor. Guild members are highly volatile, impulsive, and prone to acts of extreme violence. They are also capable trackers and huntsmen, and a large-scale hunt of the offending Echo will ensue for about a month before the Smorzando Guild will bench their witch-hunt. This is true of the murder of any Smorzando Guild member, no matter the ranking. (However: killing a high-ranking member may result in the guild leader, Tre'bel Cleft, making the Echo his personal target. Cleft does hold a fierce grudge.) The Smorzando Guild will rarely result to murder as their immediate course of action, preferring to prioritize making Echoes they deem enemies suffer immeasurable amounts of pain and suffering. This can include beat-em-ups, torture, hazing, etc. Echoes can go under cover and work around the Smorzando Guild, and once their witch-hunt has been benched, they will become a lesser priority for the guild to go after. Tensions can be rekindled with fervor if the Echo's identity is revealed, though.

THE ETUDE GUILD.

The Etude Guild has a curious relationship amongst its members in that they all mutually dislike one another. Typically speaking, anyways. If a low ranking member of the guild were to meet an unfortunate end, chaos would ensue, resulting in in-fighting amongst the scholars in order to take their work and build upon it. If the member is popular enough (which isn't impossible), then the Echo would find that security has been increased around the Etude Guild hall— though noticeably, not by way of the Smorzando Guild. The Echo would be put under surveillance if their actions had been seen, and Etude Guild members would attack on sight. Revenge and murder would not be a priority so much as getting the offending Echo away from Etude Guild property and premises.

THE DAL SEGNO GUILD.

Killing a Dal Segno member will prove the most difficult as these members are largely elusive Aercon. If a member is killed by an Echo... nothing will happen. (At first.) But it doesn't take much longer than two weeks of having "gotten away with it" for seeds of a much larger revenge begin to take shape. Your Echo may find themselves waking up one day deep inside a Coda, having been transported there against their own will. Inside would be various personalized traps, enemies, and other methods of inducing whump onto an Echo revolving around fears that, most likely, the Echo hasn't spoken a word about. Suffice it to say: It's best not give the leader of Omerta Nostra any reason to have an Echo on his radar.

— Mod Leillis  🌸

[chaoticclaybomber]

The sounds of woodworking surround him, the smell of sawdust and the sealant that Sasori uses to keep his puppets protected against weather mingling with the scent of weapon oil and metal shavings. Tobi is leaned up against the side of the bed Deidara is stretched out on, sharpening a stack of kunai and shuriken as he fills the lazy, warm air with idle chatter. His voice fades into the background with the sound of Sasori's carving knife working at a small block of wood, the puppet master for once working at a silly little project rather then a new or improved puppet. His legs are stretched over top of Deidara's, and Tobi's head is right at Deidara's elbow, all three of them content with the arrangement in a way that speaks of long hours working together and trusting each other with their lives. Deidara is mostly asleep, entirely relaxed.

For shinobi, especially missing nin, this is the highest form of trust possible.

Warm contentment that he's never quite managed to grasp before rests in the center of Deidara's chest. He wouldn't move for the world.

So, of course, that is when the world moves instead.

The door bursts open, and the blond shoots up, finding himself caught entirely off-guard. Wasn't the door open already? Hadn't he just seen Kisame and Hidan amble past? Who had managed to get into the base without alerting everyone else?

The ashy haired young man in the door looks tired but determined, and it takes a long few seconds for Deidara to remember he knows him. Steven sighs at the scene before him, at both Sasori and Tobi standing warily, before focusing squarely on Deidara.

"Hey. It's time to leave. It's a dream, comfortable as it may be, it's still just an illusion, and you know that. I thought you told me you hated illusions more than anything?" Sasori sneers, and Tobi gives a high pitched giggle that's somehow awfully menacing despite being so childish.

"Senpai isn't dreaming, this is very real. But you're invading our space, so now we have to kill you! Tobi is terribly sorry." Steven doesn't even look at the towering, masked shinobi as he lunges, but suddenly Tobi is being flung across the room. Smoke and mist explodes from him at the impact, and he doesn't so much as cry out as he staggers up.

"See? They're not real. Just like that Sharingan thing you told me about, right? The one that makes you see things that aren't there? I'm real, Deidara, they aren't. They're smoke and mirrors, and you need to wake up." Both Sasori and Tobi are thrown away as Steven steps up to Deidara, pressing the handle of the largest dagger he's ever seen into his hand. Then Steven does something absolutely insane and grips the blade, letting it slice into the palm of his hand to draw blood. Deidara is so taken aback that he can't focus on the mist in his peripherals or the lack of his partners.

"I bleed, I'm real, I'm not part of this dream. I came to get you out, you need to come back to reality and leave this place, okay?"

".... They're not here at all, are they, yeah?" He knows the answer, he's known it the whole time. Steven's face shows he knows that, and knows that Deidara needs an answer anyway. It still hurts when Steven shakes his head.

"Come back and stay with Ito and I for a while. It'll be better for you, I think." Steven glances behind him, and his expression goes tight. "Listen, we need to go. My ambitus is... well. They're both going to try to kill us right now, and mine might be a tad stronger than yours. So don't let go of me and keep running." In a flash, Steven has his wrist in an iron grip, and they're bolting through hallways and doorways, and it all blurs between underground passages and halls of shining metal. Deidara... doesn't remember most of it, not past the blur of movement and the screaming of voices he knows and one's he doesn't but Steven does. All he knows is that even once they get out, they don't stop moving, and Steven doesn't let go of him.

He thinks there's a door involved, maybe a dog? Honestly, it's nothing he wants to pay attention to when it feels like something in him has snapped apart, and he's filled with a rushing noise and pressure. It's worse by far than the moment he'd realized he'd nearly killed himself because of Itachi's Sharingan. The horror and fear and anger that had filled him then was nothing to the cascade of... of something that twisted and screamed in his chest like some creature had woken up and was trying to tear him apart.

Sasori was gone, dead, torn apart, and stabbed through what remained of his human form. He was gone, and it was Deidara's fault for having left him to fight alone. His arrogance had gotten Sasori no danna killed, and there was nothing that would bring back the real person.

Tobi was the same, likely no more than dust and atoms floating in a breeze in the miles of desolate emptiness that his final explosion had left. He'd killed both his partners, the ones he'd grudgingly liked, the ones who'd kept him sane in the cage Akatsuki had put him in. They were gone, he was gone, but here he was, still finding himself caught in illusions and cages like a gullible idiot. Because he wouldn't admit that he missed them, that he was alone and it hurt and he hated it.

"You're not, you've got me, and Ito, and Badou, and Uriah at least. You're not alone, so just breathe, okay? You're okay now." Who knows when he said any of that out loud, but Steven keeps up a steady litany of nonsense and soft chatter, and it gives him something to focus on, something to cling to.

The last time he felt like this... he was probably only four or five, being reassured by an older kid in the orphanage. What a miserable reminder of how far he hasn't come at all. But Steven came after him and dragged him out of his cage of his own making, and if he didn't trust him after something like that, what the hell would it take? So he cracks and shatters and Steven lets him scream and cry and get out everything he's been bottling up since Sasori died, just sitting back to back so Deidara can feel the warmth of him there but doesn't feel watched and judged.

It's not better, not really, but it is a little bit. At least he can breathe when he's done, exhausted and more drained, then he's been in his life.

"Get some sleep. It'll look better in the morning when you're not so wrung out." Deidara isn't sure if he really believes that, but what does he have to lose at this point? The room is comfortable, and Steven doesn't seem inclined to leave any time soon, so Deidara supposed he can let himself have a proper sleep. Maybe Steven will be right, and things will be better.

That would be a nicer dream then the illusions anyway.

[mischiefmodig]

Into the Streets . Omerta Nostra \ / @fellstcr

In some ways, it was pleasant to be alone. He need not be concerned with speaking to a brick wall, and watching one back was a far simpler task than two. But this was not a pleasant stroll through Asgard's halls, seeking forbidden knowledge for a game.

It was only a matter of time when the danger of this isle reared it's vile face revealing itself. Loki lacked the knowledge he required to know how to navigate, but if there was anyone who could figure it out, it was him.

He'd found passages hidden to one with all sight, surely how much more difficult would this realm of chaos be?

He'd hidden himself from common sight and was roaming the streets concealed by his masking illusion. He was looking for answers, or rather a path that would lead him to them. His first objective had simply to find such things among these "guilds" that resided here. Though the Nocturne, Smorzando, and Etude guilds were certainly fascinating to him, he found his attention drawn to the core of these guilds. What he reasoned was their leader, the Dal Segno Guild.

He found two individuals whom he thought would be of use, however both attempts ended in failure. Each individual simply turned a corner and vanished. Slowly tiredness mixed with his frustrations ( his panic ) as his efforts seemed pointless.

❝ Curse this realm... ❞ he muttered under his breath. As infinitely curious as he was about the rules and mechanisms, he was not fond of being trapped. This grand deception was clever but he had to simply be better than this place. It was what he was supposed to be good at, he had worked too hard to be outstaged by this realm. If pride was his downfall then so be it.

He'd turned from the dead end, making his way back towards the street to try and find a new lead. That was when he nearly ran into someone he did know ( but was not intending to follow. ) The lady Byleth.

❝ Well well... ❞ He remarked quietly, huffing through his nose ( only lightly grateful to meet someone else to right his senses. ) ❝ Fancy meeting you here in these never-ending twists and turns... You must have become trapped by an order of the AIPD, yes? ❞ It truly did not surprise him she would come to investigate.

The only thing surprising was that she could have been foolish enough to come alone. He frowned at the thought of that. It was more difficult to watch two backs, but not when you trusted that the other was watching them both too.

[enduringdevotion]

Gotta Stop Meeting Like This ||@brokeassgoing/@hypnoticallycaucasian||

Astarion was nowhere to be seen. At least, not from what Nico's been able to track down on his own. All he has to go on is a title;

The Pale Horror.

Pointed ears, pale skin, dark leathers. All you will see is the gleam of red in the dark before you're butchered and drained alive. Sounded like his father when in killer mode, which would only make sense with his kidnapping. Roberto will be furious when he finds out.

He hopes his old man at least was okay. He hadn't heard a damn thing about him.

It's your fault I died, kid. It'll be yours if I die again.

"Ugh, shut up." This must be what the moss felt like. But he's showing no signs of infection. He hasn't seen any black moss either. No pulsating red, no war, no-

Gunfire rips him out of his thoughts, making him jerk back into the street he was in prior. He peers from the corner, noting a familiar figure hauling ass away, cursing at his guns it seems. Jammed, or out of rounds by the sounds of it. Damnit, if only he-

Light bloomed beside him, a pillar slowly prying open just shy of his instinctive reach. Cloth slipped from it, familiar and inviting.

When he rounded the corner, fabric fluttered around him, clasps latching on to one another before clipping to his belt in a rippling mass. He grunts as the massive cross thumps on his hip, a familiar weight as he braces himself. The long end hissed as it sprung open, dark eyes flashing down at the red head behind cover.

"Get your ass moving before you owe me more than a drink." He flashes a grin to the broker before his hand twisted in the skull trigger system.

The machine gun ripped into the street, making the gaggle of cronies howl and scramble to flee. Getting involved in gang business wasn't on his list of things for the day. But if anyone had intel on this place, it was probably the broker himself.

Besides, he missed the weight and near purr of the Punisher clicking away only to be twisted, a flick of his wrist and the reload mechanism activated. Another volley of bullets rained hell on the men as he slowly backed up towards the street he'd come from, keeping an eye out around them and on the broker.

[magnusmodig]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 were wreathed beneath a blue-grey cloak which cast his features in shadow. a fine enough disguise when in the company of so many ruffians. or it would be WERE IT NOT FOR THE FACT that thor all-father was a rather catching sight , and in no small part due to the SHUDDERING of iron and creaking of wood as thor settled his weight against a nearby shack.

@hypnoticallycaucasian / campaign !

[windfavord]

You really thought you could change, didn't you? How ridiculous...

His hat ought to have shielded him from the rains. How was he supposed to know that simply reaching out to touch the falling droplets was enough to get him infected?

Still, it's not like he cares that much.

"What's ridiculous is you," he mutters. What he wants is to rip this ambitus to shreds, but it's just an illusion. It seems that some people get to see people they want to see, but he's had no such luck.

Maybe because there's not really anyone he wants to see, or many happy memories for it to play upon.

Though, he thinks, if it did happen to show those few people he might have once cared for... he would absolutely tear it to pieces on the spot. As it was... it seemed far more interested in taunting.

He crosses his arms as he leans up against the side of a building. This place is full of filth. The dregs of humanity, with their underhanded tactics and rotten gazes... it all disgusts him. And yet... the ambitus' taunting has managed to find a foothold despite all his supposed indifference.

It would be best for you to remain here, don't you think?

It's the Doctor this time, and he whips his head around, glaring sharply toward a space where he knew no real person stands. Teeth bare, feathers ruffled and savagery that he's tried to restrain showing through to the surface again.

You caused quite a lot of destruction back there, didn't you? Perhaps you're better off in a place like this.

"Shut up!" he snaps, aloud-- and then bites his tongue. The people nearby have turned to look in his direction.

Damn it... now he looks crazy too. He pulls his hat down to cover his face. When he hears a set of footsteps approaching, he releases a long, slightly shaky sigh, not even glancing up.

"What are you looking at?" he snaps.

This place... it might be getting to him more than he'd like to admit.

@dragonhcrt ——— ◈ omerta nostra.