ROLEPLAY HQ - anterograde

"We call you forward!" "No, see, I got that part, and I'm telling you that I don't want to be called forward. You mortals are always so fucking pushy." There were several gasps around the small room, one acolyte even going so far as to press a hand to their mouth under their hood. No one expected a defiant deity. They really should have. The head priest holding session at the front of the room sighed deeply. "I know the Binding Words, my Lady of Light." His words of obeisance were anything but that; they were grating, the Goddess thought, like he felt like he had to say them, but hardly felt them. It set her teeth on edge, and if she did deign to manifest, she would smite him where he stood. 'Smite. That's a good, godly word,' the Goddess decided, nodding to herself wherever she was, caught between dimensions as she was. Humans did this every few centuries: they learned of her name, and tried to bring her to their realm to do their bidding. She hated them deeply. The sometimes knew the words that would bend her to their will; all entities endlessly powerful had them. They were the entities' true names, bound in arcane mystery, and anyone who possessed them all but possessed the powers of the entities themselves. They really were unpleasant, too. "Fine," she finally sighed, and allowed her eldritch essence to be pulled into the mortal planes. The room was illuminated in inverse, light and dark switching places like photonegative, as gravity grew and disappeared in rapid succession. She melted into the middle of the recherché well, almost unfolding in flowing ribbons. She was everything and nothing all at once, and she was heralded by yet more gasps. Even the smug bastard of a priest looked shaken. The Goddess was smug in her own turn. "What do you want from me?" she snapped, decidedly ungoddesslike despite the holy timbre of her voice. It took a moment, but the priest finally unfolded himself (with great effort, she noted) from his worshipful

06:02

sprawl. "Great Goddess, Time and Space Herself, we ask you to forgive us," and it was then that the Goddess felt the strange, needling pull from behind her. It was her turn to gasp. "You worm," she spat, knowing exactly what the priest intended to do. He wanted to trap her. She could see a smile under his hood as he began an incantation that sapped her very essence. It was over quickly, as if the group knew time was of the essence, literally. They chanted quickly, together, and like blood wisping through the water, she flowed nearly endlessly into a waiting crystalline catcher, a trap forged solely for those like her of nearly limitless power. It was one of her only blind spots. It was one of her only failings. It pulsed once, twice, darkly with anger. They would all pay, as soon as they released her to whatever end they were planning. They couldn't kill her, that much she knew. But she could kill them, and she had all the time in the world. dash_6_DONOTSTEAL

Five hundred years pass in deep space, in a decaying tomb that once promised hope. dash_6_DONOTSTEAL

06:02

The great ship Atlantis drifted silently in Uncharted Zone Q outside of the Achilles star system. It had once been the ultimate luxury liner, transporting not just the ultra-wealthy to the then-new paradise planet of Olypium, but their fantastic wealth. The hulls were filled with gold, jewels, radantium, other precious resources, and... skeletons. The ship, the crew, and all of its passengers had died centuries ago in some sort of conflict, leaving the Atlantis a figure of mythological proportions-- an El Dorado lost in deep space. Within its center, unbeknownst to anyone, was Time and Space itself, pulsing with fear and dark anger, inverting everything within its narrow influence. The Goddess remained trapped, all of those years, waiting for some stupid mortal to touch her prison and release her. She waited for a savior, and a savior she wanted to destroy. She had no idea one was already on board.

@Livewire

The sounds of silent footsteps and quiet breathing would travel down the halls of the Atlantis, as a lone man walked through the deserted luxury vessel. Eyes scanning from left to right and hands on his weapons just in case the skeletons decided to reanimate, Hellek Drake stalked the halls. He almost couldn’t fathom that it was real. The legends were too absurd, but they were exactly what he needed them be. He had always been a betting man, and his latest gamble had been on the supposed coordinates to this place. No one alive knew where this wreck was exactly, except that one seedy looking fellow at the casino. It had cost Hellek the last of his coin, and almost lead to shoot out, but he had gotten the coordinates in the end. They had been heavily scrambled, but decoding and puzzle solving was always one of his best talents. Within no time he had hijacked a small smugglers ship and set off with the coordinates. And look at how his gamble had paid off. The man entered the treasure vault, passing by the skeletons of countless people that had long since perished, their bones bleached clean over the centuries. As he entered the centre of the ship Hellek couldn’t help but drop his jaw at the sight: mountains of jewels, gold, rare technology, and so much more. With a haul like this he would never need to treasure hunt again. He could find a secluded island and live the rest of his days in peace, and with all the women he wanted. But as he scanned the treasure his eyes locked on a strange item. In the centre of the room was a gold pyramid, laden with glass that seemed to glow a litany of changing colours. He felt a strange pulling sensation, bringing him closer to it. Eventually he picked it up and began turning it over slowly, wondering what the hell this device could be.

@baby blue

#anterograde has been moved to Inactive Roleplay.