CLOSED PARALOGUE The Evrensel Conflict: Evrensel's Bizarre Adventure- Beacons are Unbreakable

Knight Falchion

i think i'm funny
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
  1. Not accepting invites at this time
Posting Speed
  1. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
lmao
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Douche
  3. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
whatever makes me laugh
The Story So Far (kinda):
People from across the multiverse were yoinked from their homes of varying coziness by unknown forces and detained by some highly aggressive robots and their AI leader. This was agreed to be a very bad time. Fighting broke out both because certain kidnapped folks didn't take it lying down and because a group of fighters assaulted the AI's station (that's where everyone was being held, just so you know). Through the combined powers of applied violence, luck, and probably explosions, these plucky bands of unfortunates ousted the robotic force and took the station for themselves.

It is at this point that the rescuer group realize they've got a big gap in their memories but we're not going to worry about that.

The new heroic co-op now faces a multitude of challenges and uncertainties. When will the AI strike again? How do we get food? What happened to our min- wait, right, not worrying about that. Do we try to socialize with these highly different people we may never see again- ah fuck did I leave the stove on before the robots captured me?

None of these questions will be answered here. This is a diversion of immense stupidity.


VICTIMS:

Catra - Knight Falchion
Mongo - BlackRoseDova
Roy, the Curse Bearer - Wade Von Doom
Ryuga Banjou - noob13241
Tokui Uchiha - Valkan
Ziv - LenxKaitoYaoi​


The Pathfinder was as peaceful a ship as any ship suddenly freed from robotic invasion and subsequently populated both by said robots’ prisoners and their rescuers could be. Resources were scant, sure, and folks might be recovering from trauma or dealing with the crushing realization that their homes are universes away, double sure, but there was no immediate danger. If one ignored the horrors of the situation, one might even consider it an enjoyable experience.

Such peace could never last.

Six puffs of air disturbed the ship all at once, all at different places, all nearly unnoticeable. As soon as the displaced wind settled, six individuals were struck with immediate misfortune in the shape of an orange-sized polyhedron.

Catra stepped on one as she leapt through the ship’s upper infrastructure and slipped, falling to the ground with a screech. She landed on her face, and the polyhedron fell after to smack the small of her back.

Mongo grasped another as she absentmindedly reached for an orange from a nearby fruit bowl and suddenly found herself holding an alien object instead of citrus. While she may have wondered why she had been compelled to reach for said citrus in the first place, at least it wasn’t an accursed mango.

Roy went from contemplating a human effigy in the mirror, likely concerned about ninety-nine undead problems, to holding a brand new problem in his palm. It thankfully did not consume the effigy– that returned to Roy’s pouch– but his terrible fate was sealed.

Ryuga opened the door to a bathroom stall- only for a polyhedron to accost him, square in the forehead. It struck with incredible force for an object of its size and for its presumed trajectory from the top of the hinged door, enough to warrant most variations of a furious response.

Tokui went for a smoke bomb he didn’t need in the middle of a training session, and, much like Mongo’s concurrent fruit escapades, found himself holding a rough rock instead. It would matter little whether he tossed it on the ground or pondered it and how he’d gotten here.

Ziv sat on one. What happened after, only he and the beacon know.

Six polyhedrons fell into six different hands– or other body parts– and six heads rang with a deafening roar:

my thread.jpg



Even with their message delivered, the polyhedrons would not shut up. They gave their bearers constant nudges in the form of anxious pulses, whispers of six fellow bearers of light, and and flashing visions of a cave in some wintry forest, seemingly ignorant of the bearers’ inability to do much of anything about such an ill-defined sight. The obnoxious objects also had a habit of repeating the hand-on-beacon line at the same volume as the initial, and they always chose the most inopportune times for their declarations. If anyone attempted to shatter their polyhedron– as one hissing catgirl certainly did– they found it unharmed, likely after rebounding in their face. Leaving it behind only led to the polyhedron falling onto its chosen’s head after a mere minute.

It was a bit much for anyone.

Catra decided she’d had enough within the first hour and set to finding the other so-called bearers of light. If she couldn’t get the voice out of her head through bullheaded growling or break the stupid thing, she could at least confirm whether she was the only unfortunate victim or if she had fellow commiserators. It would also prove her sanity or lack thereof.

She followed Alec’s proven strategy from the poker game and cobbled together several posters, albeit only after shredding the first set in a startled flurry. The polyhedron had no sense of timing or respect for the hard work involved in scribbling “Ppl w/ stupid talking rocks come to cargo bay” on large pieces of cardboard, and for its rudeness it earned many glares and muttered curses. Once done, Catra slapped the lot across the Pathfinder’s most traveled spaces– the elevators, the mess hall, the bathrooms, the rec room, and more– and went to the cargo bay to wait.

It would take a while. She knew that. It didn’t make the wait any more bearable. Her impatience bristled along the length of her lashing tail as she stood in the middle of the large room, and her ears lay flat against her head– but she knew they’d come. No one could stand to ignore that damned rock for any length of time.

That said, if she stood there for too long, she would simply declare herself insane and stop caring. It would relieve her of some pain, if nothing else.
 
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Tokui Uchiha

It has been quite tough for Tokui to adjust to his new state of affairs. A station floating in nothing, evil robots, no more Mangekyo Sharingan, and of course, the fact that not one, but nigh infinite universes exist. He spent most of his time testing out the practice area. It had a lot of useful training aids.

During one of his practice exercises, Tokui reached for one of his smoke bombs as he was about to knock out one of the training dummies. Instead, he quickly reached for his head with his free hand. Something had gotten into his head and blasted a confusing message that overloaded his senses, forcing him to halt. That's when he realized he wasn't holding a smoke bomb. It was not the usual size or texture.

He slowly pulled it out and examined it. A rock? Where did that come from? Seeing as it kept intruding in his head, Tokui decided to drop it and check if that did something. He waited a few minutes to see if the intrusive loudness would leave his head, but the rock was still in his head. He then tried leaving it, but it only took a couple moments before it reappeared above his head. Using a trash chute to send it away did the same. While a shinobi's patience must be a great virtue of theirs, this situation was less than ideal to operate properly. He had to get rid of this voice in his head. In a last ditch attempt preceded by many failures, Tokui threw it away and used a powerful water jutsu on it, and went on the opposite direction using body flickers. That ended in the cursed rock hitting him square in the face.

Dejected he went to the medical bay to check if he had any wounds. Luckily that was not the case and the only thing hurt was Tokui's mood. He opted to simply keep the rock and try to sleep away that pestering voice. That's when he noticed a shoddily made sign on a piece of cardboard. Tokui felt a mix of relief and guilt. He was not alone, but other five people were going through this, if the rock wasn't just spouting nonsense as he first thought.

Instead of going to his room, Tokui went to the cargo bay as instructed. He was met by an unknown face, not that he knew many. A person with feline traits, interesting. "The signs, was it you? You have one of these?" Going straight to the point, he showed the annoying rock to the feline person.
 
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'Roy'

His name was Roy. That was still there. The memories may be fading, but he could at least still say that.

How he got to this floating fortress within the dark void of the night sky was beyond him. He was no stranger to sudden kidnappings, but this seemed to top them all. A flash of white light, and like the jump he took to reach the Things Betwixt, traveled through a swirling vortex that pushed his body in all directions. Felt like his skeleton was about ready to jump out his body through his skin. Like prying open an apple with your hands. Yet, instead of a cold, dark cave, he was floating without gravity, as machine hands tried peeling off his armor piece by piece.

Only for the sanitizing white lighting of the room to turn blood-red, as warning sirens went off. He made his escape as the room unfolded, joining with others who were taken from their homes as well, and once the fortress was theirs, began trying to make sense of this madness. He hadn't said a word so far to anyone, just keeping to himself as he explored this 'maze.'

All he could do now was look himself in the mirror. Remember the details of the man looking back. Remember his name.

'Roy.'

His path to finding answers was once again unknown. All he had left to keep the curse at bay were the few Human Effigies in his pocket. And there wasn't much chance of finding more now that he was here. So, best be even more careful of dying while away from Drangleic. And as he stared off into nothing while contemplating all this, he heard a loud thud on the ground besides his feet. The Effigy had fallen out of his hand, as something new took its place in his palm.

An orb. A very strange orb at all. It looked almost like a life gem, but it was too perfectly symmetrical, like it had been perfectly cut into its shape. Yet, at the same time, the edges didn't look cut either. It was like this thing was perfectly made into its current shape naturally. Then the cry echoed through his mind.

He winced in pain, because it felt like the voice yelled right into his ear. Wasn't his fault he touched it, the thing just appeared. And in trying to just throw it away into the trash, the orb was stuck to his hand. Literally. Like it was glued onto his glove. He tried waving a few times, but the damn thing didn't budge!

So what now? Well, a 'well' crafted piece of cardboard was asking if anyone else had seen this orb as well. And being curious, and also definitely in need of answers, went to where the others were gathering.
 
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Ryuga Banjo

For the draconic Kamen Rider, his peace in the station was...very meandering in all things considering what happened waking up to everything just happening within a matter of hours. After that, not much really notable ever happened and Banjo certainly isn't one for having anything to do on his own to help either.
...So, even if he knew him being needed would be a bad scenario, he couldn't help but hope for anything to happen...

This would jinx himself as he enters the bathroom in a rush, making his panic very verbal in a low "Aaaaaaaa-" as he swings the empty stall door open. And then bashed his skull in with a loud "GAH!?"

As he stumbles into the supporting arms of the stall's walls and holds the top of his new injury, he hears the incoming roar of a voice in his head.
For a moment, Banjo freezes on the spot as he goes to make it vocal about what he's feeling, but his stomach tells him that nows not the time, and shelves the issue...

Which it painfully makes itself aware, as Banjo now has multiple bandaged areas on himself due to self-inflicted injuries of many many scrapes.

To say he's not happy with the circumstances is understating it, so when a poster mentions dumb talking rocks...well, Banjo hopes it's a meeting with advice on how to get rid of said rocks.
 
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While Ziv had contented himself to explore the new station that was their headquarters, so to speak, he had spent long enough doing it and not finding much more than it was way too big. Finding anyone at any given time would be annoyingly difficult in a hurry. Having decided he did not want to be too far from where he started lest he not find his way back, he had found some sort of lounge worth relaxing in for a spell. Some movie about vampires and wolves on a rather large television had been playing, and while the general idea of such a thing still was otherworldly, well, Ziv supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He was, however, fascinated and perhaps somewhat invested in the oddly cliche plot happening.

During a break he sought to get something to eat and drink while he indulged in this phenomenon of moving pictures, and when he returned to his seat he nearly lost it. Almost immediately after sitting down he jumped up with a surprised "Oh!". He sat on something big and painful, and he was fairly sure he had not left anything on his seat when he got up. Thankful not to have spilled everything he set it aside to pick up the object and sit down without a small pout. "Well that's going to bruise. Now where, pray tell, did you come from?" Not that he actually expected an answer. When he did get one he was rather surprised… and confused and in pain. "The hell…?" Ultimately shaking it off as a delusion from being tired, he resigned to watching this movie until he fell asleep.

That didn't happen.

Instead the swordsman spent a good ten minutes of the movie just trying to hear it. Eventually he gave up, opting to leave and find somewhere else to sleep. This also didn't happen, as before he even so much as made it a few steps beyond the lounge that thing had managed to fall from nowhere and onto his head. With a mild grunt of pain he picked it up, sighed to himself and just took it with him as he rubbed his head. His walk to find somewhere to sleep lasted a good half hour with no luck and several repeated… inconveniences. While he had not been able to identify a true source of the voice he had hoped for more than just those same words. Thus began what probably looked to most like Ziv talking to himself with random questions.

"What beacon?"
"Where’s the light?"
"Six? …How do I find the other six then?"
"Are you okay? You've been repeating the same thing over and over…"
"…Hmn. Now I'm getting worried about both of us."


And no answers.

Luck did, however, see it fit to put a poorly spelled message in his path. So poorly spelled he had to spend a few moments trying to figure out what "ppl" was actually supposed to be. It did, however, confirm a few things for him. There were others on this very station that had heard the call, and it was in fact this rather weighty ball of painful corners. Yes, he was a bit bitter about his ass.

Decision made he sought out the cargo bay- a place he had thankfully been to before. Upon entering the cargo bay he was greeted with several others, one of which he recognized immediately. He offered a sympathetic smile. "Ah. We meet again."