Grave New World Overview And OOC Thread ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [video=youtube;EX9TeOP8FVY]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EX9TeOP8FVY[/video] Soulless I have become Death now calls my name Under a dying sun Beneath the frozen flames Awaiting in silence, for there is no way out Blackened, isolation, for I'm the one with the dead Snow like ashes of bone The frost now slowly sets in (My) seconds in time have perished Lucifer! I recall sin Time. Enslavement. For there is no way out The walls of sanity vanish into the air THERE IS NO CITY OF GOD! THERE IS NO KINGDOM OF FIRE! THERE IS NO CITY OF GOD! UNHALLOWED BE THY NAME! The once proud temple of a dead soul Becomes as one with the ground Envoment by the Serpent's Son The reapers scythe is lowered down The witches, the priests, the madmen Weave their tales of their myths The lull of false security Guardians of the sane mind SATAN BE... THY FATHER SATAN BE... BELOW THE HEAVENS SATAN BE... UNHALLOWED SATAN BE... BE THY NAME KINGDOM CONE... KINGDOM GONE ON EARTH... AS IT IS IN EARTH ANCIENT MYTHS OF MODERN MAN AS IT SHALL BE... FOREVER ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The world around him was a rather unforgiving sight compared to that of his forefathers. Most of it had fallen into a sort of decay in some way, shape, or form. The wars amongst humanity and inhumanity had ended many years ago, leaving horrid wounds across the surface of the earth. The forests he wandered through, on the way to France through Germany, were alive; the plants were green, animal life still made its calls, and the sun still shone. Yet its light was shrouded by the strange clouds of grey and the long, lengthy flat-bodied beasts in the sky and the massive jelly-fish like creatures, floating like de-activated light bulbs like massive cities hiding behind clouds. The beasts and their sounds were not the ones the old spoke of days past. The natural clarity and simplicity was not there, replaced with strange noises, often only half-melodic, twisting and turning as the strange forms they emanated from used their mutated organs to turn the standard call of the wild into the call of the morbid unknown. The worst was perhaps the trees. Once man may have found these stalwart towers, seemingly ageless and incorruptible, to be beacons of perseverance and serenity, yet they too had changed. The bark was thicker and it seemed to have twisting patterns on it, some eerily like faces, perhaps those of life that had been lost in these woods. Their bodies seemed to branch out, splitting before they even were submerged into the ground, with wild and long roots, thick as grown men, coiling around one another. The growth of their leaves and fruits and the smaller growths, fungi and litchen for example, upon them had become rampant, turning monstrous and obscene in appearence, like giant festering wounds. They seemed to try to fight one another in prolonged wars of absorption and osmosis, with the victor assimilating the body of the lesser being into itself. Yet as they say, modern life is war. He was old enough not to hold secret condemnation of the new life that had risen from the leftovers of the old. Like humanity, they were forced to fight for their survival, perhaps as hard as they did. Yet they never opened the gates and sent forth the violence and the wrath from beyond into this realm; no they were simply collateral damage, damage that had healed, albeit changing in the proccess of that healing. No, perhaps this wasn't decay; the world had become uglier, yet it had survived. To some, it had even triumphed and it had adapted. Not just the plants and the animals, humanity as well. He was an example of such. The man was of an age unknown and face almost skull like in how the flesh clung to his face. Eerily enough, his sharp, almost undead-like features seemd to wipe him clear of any sort of racial connection; he was nationality-free. His seemed to loom over the rest of the world ominously like some ancient wraith, seemingly floating over the ground. His robes, looking like a sort of formal suit mixed with that of a shroud of some sort. Strange and winding esoteric designs, mostly of gold and white, seemed to trace over the mostly dark green and black outfit. While this was not the appearence of many of them, he was not the only G.R.A.V.E. like this. Genetically Reconfigured Advanced Vessels for the Entities were beings of almsot mythical status in the new Earth. Born either naturallly from the freak conditions or in the laboratories of those looking for the next level in human evolution, they were powerful humans or to some, post-humans. Biologically, they were beyond that of the mightiest of men. The five senses plus perhaps a few beyond that were enhanced to legendary levels, and their physical capabilities such as strength, stamina, and speed, were the sort one imagined was only possible in action movies. Their attunement to the Othyrealm and ability to control powers from within and beyond, the latter granting the former, was expertise; they could cause the energies to flow softly like a stream or explode like a raging inferno. What made them such heated avenues of discussion though, was the fact that none of these beings was ever truly alone. Possession was not new in this new world, yet being born possessed or with the ability to contain sometimes hundreds of spiritoids was unique to them. Sometimes the ones stored were the size of small birds and housepets, other times those of lions or sharks, and a few of immense power even stored the odd gigantic spiritoids that could be over 33 feet in length. These beings from beyond enhanced the power of the user beyond the the level it was already at and G.R.A.V.E.'s could be rather creative. They could use the spiritoids as weapons, turning a single punch into one that was followed by a storm of ripping pincer-like claws, evoked out of the very space by the beast(s) within. Other times the spiritod, if it was large enough, would seemingly form over the user, like a ghastly sort of illusion they could wear and manipulate its limbs as if it were its own. To the horror of many, they could often evoke the characteristics of the outer beings into their own physical ones. Sometimes their limbs would become half physical and half immaterial, becoming like twisting claws or tendrils, or their torsos would horridly re-shape, as if becoming tough shells or wiry and long predatory forms. This was only some of what they were capable of. Only a fool would assume that G.R.A.V.E.'s were truly blessed. Few were able to lead normal civilian lives, twisted by the urges of the otherworldly ones that possessed them and grew increasingly intelligent and sentient as their conscousness reflected unto the possessing ones, progressively granting them increased mental capacity. More often than not, the fearful and the malicious demanded these abominations and risks to whatever remained of societies be eliminated or exiled. Other times they were the pawns of cruel corporations and militaries, used as weapons of war and subjects of harsh experiments. They were sent for the most dangerous of missions, yet were treated as weapons rather than people. Even the wilderness was not truly their ally; stronger spiritoid entities found them to be ideal prey, nourishing themselves on both their dead bodies and their soon to be absorbed possessors. The dangers simply went on and on. Sadus had experienced it all; the fear, the power, the violence, the triumph, and the survival. He'd been born naturally, yet had also went through many of what the artificials had to. Once he fought as one of the elite G.R.A.V.E.'s of the Tenebrarum organization, a large mysterious organization, part templar order, part transcendentalist cult, part global military peacekeeping, and part research group. Yet those were days and the memories attached to them he did not dwell upon much. A wandering man, he could have settled down into a state of ease, yet he knew in the stationary life there was no real satisfaction with existence. No, he should wander and in his wanderings, experience things that to him exemplified existence; to burn with life was his goal, until death. For years, he'd wander. By foot in the wild and the civilized, by ships of sea and air across vast expanses and oceans, and sometimes through warp gates when the opportunity had presented himself. Now, he walked across these seemingly forgotten paths, leading from Germany into France, through a forest that had sprung up after the fall of the two nations, which had mostly split up into wandering and often warring tribes. In France, there had been strange sightings of entities that seemed both spiritoid and human, a strange fusion of the two. Alongsid ethat were reports of their supposedly wild and unusual nature, most likely exaggerated to a certain degree by shocked or traumatized witnesses. Being the restless soul he was, he increased his pace a bit, believing if his map was correct, to be nearing the end of the vast forest and approaching a town of sorts. He felt no presence following or obseving him, from here or from behind the veil, yet he knew that a G.R.A.V.E.'s power had its limits and often to rely on his natural skill and survival instincts. A place like this was popular for the wandering barbarians and thieves, the occult warrior tribe-orders, and always the unpredictable spiritoid entities. It was dark, still early morning, yet his eyes adapted naturally to the dim. He walked, half keeping track of time, half wondering of the things the newspapers and newscasts back in Britain had said.