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In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod]

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#1Erebus 

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Empty Sun Feb 11, 2024 6:09 pm

Erebus

Between two great continents lied a layered cell quadrant with multiple floors at the base of the ocean — only the most dangerous and dark are put in this facility.

The concrete around them surrounded by vast blues, but depth which made the exterior an almost black abyss— perhaps one could see blue, if it were outside— with the lights on… but the darkness was nothing short of home to Erebus. His eyes dragged themself awake, and in the dim light he could see the room as it was. A tiny cot bed and a bunk— a top and a bottom.

Erebus stepped up at the lower bunk, his ears had picked up on a loud fuss approaching, almost through water it sounded to him as it body caved over and he realized he was not in control of his balance, a situation his mind hadn’t suddenly registered or perhaps had ignored was occurring began to escalate around him. Then his cell chamber opened and a few men in the uniform approached him with batons, cackling with lightning mana.

This was the first beating. Which Erebus succumbed to— he would have fought back but his elbows were littered with needle holes, and a anesthesic intoxicant kept his movements grey and hush.

He was fighting against the loss of what he had perceived to be his own motor function. Viciously, his aggressors seemed content to teach him that life here worked with a hierarchy in place, very well.

Erebus mumbled noises one would first assume were grunts of pain, but it would lead into laughter, through his own blood soaked teeth laughing up hemoglobin, he watched as a boot crushed his temple and his lights went out, all black again.

Just another day in this place, at this disadvantage. He’d kill them all for this, if he could ever get out.

Erebus is left there— and the scene fades as another emerges, the door is slammed shut behind the invaders. The time of day is early, but late morning, 1100 hours, at the bottom of the sea.

————————————

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Rae-robinson-picture4

On the outside, work was at play that nudged for the end of the Don. Movements of loyalties had shifted, and there were creatures inhuman who saw no true merit to a rogue chambered in the same walls as they. The fact was a question to them— some had even been jailed here by his hands or accounts leading twas. Unlucky, was one, cornered by their enemy in great numbers.

The wicked had started their march, and in that time. A few lackey criminals would approach a heavily-guarded cell, and inside Helmutt, from beyond the veil of thick smoke on his shrine, invited the lackeys inside.

“You come after all— so it is as they say, Erebus is here?”

The one who would come to be known as Helmutt would address. The men nodded, and then one gestures to the door with the nod of his neck and an expression of worry. A large man on cue— pushes through the clearing, several feet taller than a werewolf, he cradles his large muscular body to fit into the room; ducking his neck and shoulders slightly.

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Btas-Killer-Croc
STR 390 || SPE 90 || END 321 || CON 121
Information:

“You speak at Ozart. A bandit enter Hellsea and Ozart collect money to kill man. Guard say to me that you may aide man, that you are apart of tiny human’s agency. You work for bandit man no more? or Ozart need kill?” Ozart would mince no threat, as his barred and crooked teeth smirked from between his words, his underbite spitting his words out with a dumbed accent, from years of battle or perhaps a deformation in his jaw.

“I only worked with the Akudama when it benefitted me, but that organization is falling apart, and its best champion is bested by a Holy Knight.” He said with a chortle to his pitch. “I would quicker die than let myself be extorted by a maggot.”

Ozart laughed “You joke good. But Ozart see phony lie, Helmutt fear little man.”

Helmutt’s forehead pulsed at the vein as a stare down commences between two opposing and yet coinciding enigmas. “... If you pride yourself so valuable. Heh heh. Then work with me and let’s make this human break?”

The trustee laughed along with his henchman, “Ozart know not what you can offer… — Fearing one.”

Helmut raised his smoking hookah— a pause, and a wretched smile crossed his lips. “Oh I can do lots, but you must test the skills needed first. I don’t throw my investments on contraband like this around for no reason.”

Ozart scratched his barren chin. “Helmutt is chemist? Helmutt make drugs for Akudama? So Drug Control sound good for Ozart. Helmutt still die perhaps, heh heh heh. You funny little guy. I fight and break bandit before you do anything and then Ozart come back and beat you too, take over all.”

The Giant stood up straight— his monstrous frame being several feet and his height a menacing nine feet tall, he bent the cell door closed when he pushed it in and slammed it sealed, a final disrespect for his fellow criminal as it was.

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] MV5BZGIwMTcwZTEtZDBkYy00MzUwLWI4MjYtMDdjODNkMDFmZTNhXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTMzMzYxNDA5._V1_
STR 121 || SPE 67 || END 321 || CON 121
Information:

“Yapping fool. I hope you defeat that monster.” Helmutt said, his attention drifting down to the regents at his feet. He grinned smugly, foreshadowing his own intentions with a devilish chuckle.

In the meantime, Erebus would find himself woken by a splash of water. He was slung a plate of slop from under his cell door and realized he wasn’t in any room he had seen previous, the guards dropping his body there in the pod with several, perhaps fifty strange individuals, his door was cracked open, allowing for some degree of air so he could endure and rot for all his years.

Some voices on different floors echoed up with the stairs of the cell’s walkway outside his door— under one sector, this appeared to be a concourse of just one open floor of the prison. This was the architecture of a super max facility as grand as a city or town itself.

The room was so vast and large that it felt like he were almost outside somewhere, peaking his head outside of the door to see rain or snow, but the proof that the sky above had a ceiling about 250 feet up discourages fresh air, he was in a captive environment. Bubble encased walkways made of interlocking metal-bands made the flooring, and glass by the foot in diameter separated them from the water outside. It was through the metal bands under their feet, one could hear the assault or approach of danger.

That depiction of water was also around them— and could be seen, it gave the inhabitants the solitude of knowing they were alone forever. They were in fact, at the deepest pits of this realm, in the trenches of some mariana.

Erebus kept observing his surroundings and noticed how the guards in the distant side of his pod transported carts around on the other side of large glass wall, areas that the prisoners couldn’t reach, he’d finally figured. Ere quickly assessed the place for the reputation it pervaded. Thick water, and creatures like sharks or sting-rays occasionally floated by, illuminated only by the light from inside.

Peaking around the bend— Erebus caught an interesting, momentary capture; a potential opportunity. A short, stubby man entered the floor he was walking towards, approaching from a different cell chamber and gradually going from doorway to doorway ¬†with a clipboard and quill. He wore a hat that had the indication he was a correctional officer. Erebus waited to see what information he could learn with this character.

—————————-

In another area of this prison pod, approximately 500 feet away and the other side of the grand space, was a wizard with a hood wrapped around his head. He wore dark brown, burnt clothing. He had only just appeared in a blink, followed by chaotic wisps of purple energy of the void which danced like embers on his cape’s tail. He stretched his arms out, and burst out laughing— provoked by a great success. “Woah ho ho ho! It worked, and now to get right with the deal... do my part.”~ said the strange agent of chaos, happy to be here— of all the places. “Such a big room though, oh dear.. This could be a minute…” The dark wizard, known to few in this world, began his own march now, as he traversed the prison in search of the Dark One. Lo had on a brown carry bag, his purse resembled something like that of an old leather duffel with a chain laced around his chest. His face cheekbones were high, and his teeth, were unusually small and jagged. While his chin jutted out and his eyes had no pupils, replaced by yellow orbs.



Last edited by Erebus Gresham on Thu Feb 15, 2024 9:16 am; edited 1 time in total

#2Zerutod 

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Empty Wed Feb 14, 2024 9:02 pm

Zerutod
As the heavy iron door creaked open, Yel hesitated at the threshold, feeling the oppressive weight of his new surroundings. The dank, musty air of the underwater prison clawed at his senses, making him shudder involuntarily. "Welcome to Hellsea Bastille, boy," a gruff voice greeted him from the shadows. The guard's heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, each step sending ripples through the water that surrounded the prison. Yel's heart pounded in his chest as he stumbled forward, relying on the guard's guidance. "I didn't do it," he murmured, barely able to find his voice amidst the swirling fear. "Everyone says that," the guard grunted, his hand firm on Yel's shoulder. "Your protestations don't change a thing in this place." The guard led Yel through a labyrinthine of narrow hallways, the walls slick with seaweed and algae, the dim glow of magical runes casting eerie shadows across their path. "What will... happen to me here?" Yel asked, his voice trembling. He couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that hung in the air like a shroud. The guard let out a low, humorless chuckle that set Yel's teeth on edge. "You'll soon find out, lad," he said, his eyes unreadable behind the visor of his helmet. They finally reached a heavy metal door, and with a loud clang, it swung open to reveal Yel's new prison cell. The small space was devoid of any comfort, the walls made of damp, corroded stone, the only furniture a lumpy cot and a rusted chamber pot. "[color=#cc0066]Here you are, boy," the guard grunted, shoving Yel roughly into the cell. "Get used to the view. It'll be your only one for a long while."

Yel stumbled backward, his hand scrabbling against the rough wall as he fought to stay upright. "Please," he pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. "I don't belong here." "Ain't for me to decide," the guard said with a shrug, slamming the door shut and leaving Yel in the suffocating darkness. Alone in the cold, damp cell, Yel sank onto the cot with a heavy heart. His blind eyes stared sightlessly at the blackness, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The hours passed in a daze, each more oppressive and suffocating than the last. Yel's fear gnawed at him, a constant companion in the looming shadows. Suddenly, a low, guttural moan echoed through the corridor outside. Yel tensed, his heart pounding in his ears. What unspeakable horrors inhabited this forsaken place? The moan turned into a shuddering scream, the sound tearing through the murky depths like a banshee cry. Yel's blood turned to ice, his breath coming in panicked gasps. "What in the name of the Abyss..." Yel muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his mind racing with unimaginable dread. Just then, a deep, resonant laughter reverberated through the walls, sending a chill down Yel's spine. It was a sound devoid of warmth, a sound that belonged in nightmares. Yel's heart hammered in his chest as he strained to hear more, the cacophony of sounds filling the air with stifling tension. Another prisoner's voice echoed through the darkness, this one a low, steady hum that seemed to vibrate the very stones of the prison.

The eerie sound sent shivers down Yel's spine. As the night deepened, the sounds of suffering and madness continued to ripple through the prison, each one a reminder of the perilous world Yel now inhabited. "I can't do this," Yel whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the haunting symphony of wails and cries that filled the air. Yel pushed himself off the cot, his movements uncertain, and made his way to the cell door, his fingers groping blindly for any sign of escape. "Help!" he called out, his voice cracking with desperation. "Someone, please help me! I shouldn't be here!" His cries echoed through the desolate corridors, but no answer came, the silence pressing in on him with unbearable weight.

#3Kon 

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Empty Tue Feb 20, 2024 2:29 pm

Kon

Months have passed like the many leaves of an tree coming into autumn, it had been quite sometime since he had put Erebus behind bars and yet he was still troubled by their presence. Their strength, abilities were all something he could handsomely fight against but rather it is the motives that drove Erebus that concerned Kon that and their shared history together. They were something he had been mulling over for such a long time but perhaps those issues would come to a head with reports of the many trials ahead of them beginning soon enough. Knowing the criminal for perhaps the longest of all the Rune Knights and being the key to apprehending them, he was one of the first people called upon and despite his station it would not be something he could refused. While he was the general of the organization and could certainly send an envoy he still felt a personal responsibility in finally resolving the matter. That didn’t mean he would relish the location for which he had been summoned, the Hellsea Bastille, a venerable fortress in the sea said to contain some of the greatest villains through the world. A dangerous place to be for someone without the ability to swim, a skill which he had lost since gaining his metal frame. Of course he could still just walk on the sea floor but there is always a bigger fish in those black seas.

While his hand did linger on the Skeleton key within his jacket open, he fell short of activating the relic realizing the unfortunate truth that he would have to make the under the water trek having never been there in the first place. Something which would be done in two parts, first a lengthy flight on his chaotic hespa, an elemental being of great untapped bridled potential which he had begun to establish a tenuous bond with having fought together against terrible foes including the very enemy which they had imprisoned together. His emotions towards the animal had always been mixed to say the least with them never having directly harmed him and yet he was a constant reminder of the tragic incident that led to his entombment within his metal frame. Their relationship had become increasingly combative with their recent travels to the foreign and exotic country of Sin, a region that seemed to share many thematic traits to the more familiar Joya, a neighbour country to Fiore and Bosco.

His summons to that country arised prior to his call as a witness against Erebus. It was a strange invitation and had been requested from both the ruling class of Sin and the Magic Council hoping to use Kon as a representative and reestablish a repor between the two groups. More then once he had made a fool of himself speaking joyan to the local sinese much to their amusement and his own chagrin. Culture barriers seemed to be even greater between his native Boscoi and the Sinese compared to the Joyan neighbours. Formality and a strict honour system for seniority both in position and age seemed to be the most highly regarded with him being both respected and criticized in the same breathe after failing to follow correct social decorum.

Gifts were traded between himself and his hosts, his own consisting of his Jean D’arc sword that resided within his arm. Reforged once more into the golden blade prior to leaving Fiore, it was received with much appreciation from the hosts who chose to present the weapon upon a stand rather that use it. The gift in return was fair more modest that of an ancient tea set, something of a slight upon him if his robotic nature was considered. A hefty series of ceramic, Kon had accepted it with great hesitation swiftly placing it within his own quarters back in Fiore through his aforementioned Skeleton Key after the conclusion of their initial ceremony, still left bound and unwrapped beneath his desk. Something which he would ultimately either use only ceremonially or trade off as a future gift for another. Despite being reminded of his fortunate position in life, his adventures within the Sinese territory did not come without excitement having been accosted not once, not twice but three times by various bandits and lowlifes during his many tours. Even coming to the aid of a mysterious woman dressed in attire he could only describe as ornamental and from another time. Unaccustom to the culture and peoples he made little comment to their peculiar appearance resembling that of a spirit rather then a person almost transparent and nigh invisible to his Millenium Eye something he had only encountered a handful of times. “Perhaps magical beings were more accepted in this foreign land?” He thought to himself during this brief encounter, a thought that only lasted a moment when the spirit wrenched out from their chest a mighty blade of their own offering the fine weapon to Kon kneeling before him clutching the steel in their two hands. Resentment still firmly resonating within the man against his hosts, despite his better judgement he lingered over the weapon with his gilded gauntlet hopefully protecting him from any potential curses that might fail upon him.

Running his fingers over the handle from crossguard to pommel, he knew there was something suspect and yet in his own sense of self worth he could not contain himself and instead of casting aside the offering, wrapped his fingers around the handle raising it from the hands of the unusual spirit lady who only smiled and began to cackle with a fearsome nature only seen amongst the criminally insane. Before he could attempt to resist what ever forces were to play, the midas began to react independent of Kon instead appearing to be absorbed by the katana itself. Feeling as though the weight of the weapon had almost doubled, Kon found himself only capable of dragging it against the ground with his dominant hand. Grasping it with two hands, this burden was almost immediately expunged with the weigh disappearing entirely. From a golden crafted weapon of war, the Midas Gauntlet had become nothing but slag upon the ground and yet he could still feel the traces of its power within the blade. His own material concerns were swiftly overcome however with the spirit before him instead now incorporating herself from the weapon into his own being spiraling around the two while the laughter began to originate within his own mind and before long became his own.

Whoever or whatever it was had now began to possess him and yet he could easily restrain them within his psyche. Disappointed with the loss of yet another relic weapon, Kon only managed to find some solace in the sword he now possessed, slashing in front of him checking the balance of the blade, he was amused almost cackling the same as the spirit had done as a powerful wave extended out splitting a tree in two. Recognizing the impractiality of holding a giant sword everywhere he went and needing to travel on Hespa, he pondered how best to carry around such a weapon. As if to answer the unasked question a voice within his own mind, unrecognizable from his own spoke out. “Place it inside of yourself, fool…” Lacking any form of scabbard or any sling, Kon merely did as was proposed, repeating what the spirit had done but in reverse, a naive thing to do and yet he knew he wouldn’t be harmed with the sword seemingly turning into a purple nothingness as he plunged it into his chest. Just what would be the cost of what he had inadvertently agreed to, had he now bond his own soul to the spirit that was now lingering within his body?, Only time would tell.

Time was something which was not a luxury from him at this point, already he was running late to reach the Bastille at an acceptable time. “Use my powers and you shall be anywhere you need…” Once more a voice echoed within his own thoughts lulling him into a false sense of security attempting to act as a friend. While he was certainly a fool for even trusting the spirit by taking the sword until he had consulted with an expert in possession he wouldn’t listen to the sweet words of a beautiful spirit. And so through the skeleton key, Kon cut his travel distance in half before trying to mount his silisa to travel the remainder pausing almost absent minded for the briefest of moments marvelling at the intricate detail of the companion ball clutched in his hands over the sharp cliffs to the open seas and the Bastille. Shaking his head, he was more confused and annoyed with himself then ever before to be fixated on something so insignificant. Was this the doing of whatever had taken residence in his mind?, He had certainly hoped not. It was only coming to the cliffs that he realised what he was going to ask of his companion travel out into the open seas and potentially into the great depths. Perhaps he’d accept the task taking him vaguely to Bastile and return to Era but he had his doubts. Releasing the entraped Hespa, Kon hopped onto the beast saddle still strapped tight. With great hesitation, the silisa took flight and began the journey over the endless waves. Hour after hour, the land behind them disappeared beyond the horizon as the sun began to descend.

Reaching perhaps half the distance, they came to a quick and abrupt halt as hespa without warning performed a barrel rolling through him off into the water with the saddle having burnt to cinders over the lengthy trip. Plunged into the cold, dark depths, he would have undoubtedly drowned were he still human. Recognizing the futility of resisting the waves around him, he merely allow himself to sunk like a rock while he spotted Hespa in the distance. Perhaps they had finally gotten sick of his demands and being left inside the companion ball all the time. A lengthy descent that left him with many minutes of idle thought a sea life bent and twisted away from him. In the great distance bigger fish began to gain confidence to nip at the metal man. An act quickly rebuked with a swift kick from his boot and the growing lights of the bastille below. Landing on the highest platform, Kon could feel the distinction suction upon the ground as it began to sink while his only exit was closed as two doors merged together from above. Water drained in mere moments as the sea life around him flopped and gasped upon the metal floor. Once the sirens and lights had come to an end, Kon was finally greeted still drenched in sea water. Fearsome attendants, he stood his ground and merely said to the men. “Take me to him.”

#4Erebus 

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] Empty Yesterday at 6:02 pm

Erebus

In the Name of the Father [Konstantin, Zerutod] 2f04ffc4050464853004c4f44eae3858c4fc692a_2000x2000



——————

Erebus

Incarcerated Kingpin


The door creaked open as the figure of Erebus pressed himself against the metal frame at his room and peered over the rail, he watched suddenly as the stocky man pressed on a radio attached at his chest, he appeared to be getting some orders, the words were just a little too far for Erebus to discern, however— the man turned and looked up at Erebus. Gary— the C.O. on the floor would intercom back to the monitor room, a station dwelling behind a large glass wall, a safe zone which protected the staff from damage.

“So he’s arrived, then we aren’t sedating the prisoner. The drugs‘ll just make him fall flat on his face… You can’t interrogate anyone that way, just… Send the task force immediately, we’ll restrain him the old fashioned way. On stat too; get here now, I’m looking at our guy— and he’s… looking right back at me.” Gary’s eyes narrowed, and his hand went to his holster— covering a handgun, armed and ready for pull out.

It was nothing new to Erebus, his subconscious affixing too its own hatred.

Sensing those souls which also resented his, a cycle of darkness feeding the true void. However, this was no typical force. It was Konstantin, one of the greatest mages in walking form in this existence. A creature more than the organic compound they were born from.

A true cyborg, if Erebus had ever heard of one. Perhaps, if Konstantin were erased, the darkness had whispered, then no one could stop Ere from shaping the world in his image.

Alas, there were these individuals, so powerful and exalted as he— that those dreams were a conflict of interest. So in short, Erebus was no surprised victim, he knew he had signed up for this.

But not being finished, and brought here. That was what troubled Erebus. His horrendous struggles were not yet over. So he could not rest, and as they say, there is no rest for the wicked.

Erebus was adjusting his thoughts on those sensations, those senses, as he surveyed the C.O. A few feet and off below.

Almost on cue with Kon’s arrival above, Ere had awoken and the dormant— monster in Erebus, had resolved itself of the wretched brain fog— he was putting everything together, his mind was racing. The aura of this place, and the one he too fed it, gave an anxiety to Gary many had never experienced. One of the few breathing men, who could feel Ere’s eyes on them and understand the humility of being twisted and contorted by their otherworldly power. The thoughts alone drew heavy amounts of cold sweat that inched down the neck and back, whereas the slight lest unmissable shiver rolled through the man’s legs.

”… Send as many as you can. I implore you… It changes nothing.” Erebus reasoned, just a bit more arrogantly than most would like to hear, his fist crashed against the rail, bending its metal with a dent inward, as the adrenaline started its run down his spine once again— back through his decrypt, ancient, and unused husk containing chaos.

In that very moment of time, the erupture of an explosion above, one floor above to be certain, could be heard, loud and rumbling the entirety of the underground unit housing them below.

“In the end, against your pathetic adversity, I will still remain...” he muttered at the end of his words. “Everlasting.”


——————



Ozart

Hellsea Bounty Hunter


Large and beginning to pick up speed, a monster of a man led three lackeys to the open clearing of a pod— this pod appeared to be sat differently— and very quickly one would see that Ozart and his men were not on the same level as Erebus— but they certainly had a plan to get there, and Ozart motioned with two-fingers, sending them in different directions. Firstly, two of his men sheltered up on the the stairs, and secondly the third began to adjust wires and operate a device he had slung together with tape and other spare contraband.

Finally, Ozart would place down a metal briefcase— it was cybertronic, and emittted a pulsing blue glow, which was out of place on the cold foggy floor. The temperatures here mirrored a freezer room, the extent of which drew forth a mist with his breath.

He stood up straight, waiting out the confidant as he’d began to work with the strange contraption.

Ozart catches the sound of wales and tears not far off, making him peak his head up… He remains silent as if to pinpoint the noises whereabouts.




Ozart:
1/2 until main engagement
——————

Lo

Agent of Chaos


Lo is walking beneath the stairwells, sticking to the shadows when he enters earshot of a young prisoner— crying tears. This notably out of place behaviour raises alarms to Lo. Who isn’t sure that anyone here should be so weak or traumatized by their enclosure.

“I wouldn’t be so loud if I were you!” He jested with a chuckle. “If something was going to have its way with you… or for heaven’s sake, ingest you?! Then noise is surely the fastest way to see the deed done. Practically suicide buddy!” Lo walked closer, approaching from outside of the boy’s open cell door. “Perhaps, you have heard of an adventurer locked here recently. Named… Erebus. Say— why don’t we find him together?”

Lo: @ Zertutod
1/3 Posts until main engagement



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