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DOA?:Ultimate Confusion; There will be utter annoyance...
Topic Started: Mar 13 2009, 05:24 AM (2,787 Views)
Silvermourn
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The Redneck, the Cynic, the Nerd, and the Hopeless Romantic

As the explosion rocked the small area Logan smiled to himself. A good explosion was always sort of nice, he'd attended several demolitions and he even knew a bit about creating some rather dangerous explosive materials and impromptu bombs. It was amazing the things you could learn from the internet and he always was interested in learning how to do new things.

As the dust settled down around them, the haze of smoke and water vapor fading away Logan was already on the move. Fast on the heels of the giant of a drunk Russian he was the second one to enter the halls of Valhalla. Not having any sort of job on the little excavation he had the free time to move in quickly and efficiently and his eyes took in the scenes of the halls of Valhalla as quickly as they could. Whatever Valhalla had truly been it was majestic, primitive on the outside the inside was beautiful. Dark woods lined the walls and made up the sturdy tables, and stools. The thrones themselves were the most magnificent of things in the room, carefully carved and beautiful they stood out from everything else. Those who had set in such things had been important individuals, had they been immortal gods or men either one.

As Logan tried to imagine what they would find within this building, the treasures and the histories they would discover. His attention was drawn to the sphere sitting in the chair that could only have belonged to Odin. Watching it he felt almost drawn to it, the seat itself interested him more than anything in the room, and the sphere was the first potential treasure they had seen. Perhaps it was an apple, rotted away to nothing but a black core, but that didn't seem very likely of a place as majestic as this.
With quick steps he approached the throne, almost holding his breath to see what it was that set on the throne of the King of Gods, the All-Father, the man who had drank from the well and earned the ultimate wisdom.
"I mourn that which may have been but will never be."

"Stupidity is a wound that bleeds forever; Intelligence is a blade that stays forever sharp"

"An armed man will kill and unarmed man with monotonous regularity"

"Nothing adds a little class to a sniper course like a babe in a Ghillie suit."

"You have the rest of your life to solve your problems. How long you live depends on how well you do it."

"Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. I may get killed with my own gun, but he's gonna have to beat me to death with it, 'cause it's going to be empty."
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Mercinus3
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The English Kitty Ninja
Jason walked away casually, unaware that the dynamite was about to detonate behind him. He raised his bottle of ale, when the explosion started, sending debris everywhere. In the instant he had heard the sound, he turned around, and drew a Wildey pistol from his backpack, letting the bottle shatter on the ground. Noticing that it was only for clearing purposes, and not an attack, he unarmed the pistol, and placed it back into his backpack. He cursed under his breath, knowing that he had spent too much time in the Middle East, and had flinched from every single roadside bomb that he had come across. He thought back to the people that he had saved during those attacks, and thought about those who didn’t make it. He raised his hand towards his lips, thinking that the bottle of ale was still in his hand, and felt nothing pass through his lips. “Shit! That’s a waste of alcohol there!” he shouted, looking at the shattered remains of his bottle. However, as the group started to head towards the new opening, the Brit decided to leave the wasted alcohol, and followed them.

He followed Mikhael into the opening, his Wildey in hand. Once he had seen the entire place, he let out a low whistle of surprise, rather amazed with the finely preserved detail of the hall. It's all here... This is the hall where the Aesir and the Einherjar had their daily feasts! And there, that is the armory, where the Einherjar got kept their weapons for when they went out in the valley outside to fight each other, only to be brought back to life at sunset! And that... that must be Odin's throne itself! Either this is a very well made copy, or this really is Valhalla." Jason rolled his eyes at the comment. He knew better about the Russians trying to be the first people with the biggest things, the Americans too. Two great examples of the Russian’s eagerness of having the largest aircraft was the Antonov 225 and the Mi26 ‘Barbie Horse Adventures’.

“Well… I’ll be damned… It’s a good thing that I had grabbed a bottle of scotch before the ascent.” Jason wondered how his backpack was able to carry all of his stuff, especially with an extra pair of clothes, Wildey and all of the alcoholic beverages. He pulled out several shot glasses, and a bottle of Glenmorangie whiskey. Pouring out a shot, he handed out shots to everyone in the group. “Nothing beats the situation than a fine shot of scotch whiskey.” The Brit downed his glass in one, and poured himself another, savoring the taste.
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Efarilahn
 
Eat babies, don't punt kittens.
This is true. I will go ninja kitty on your asses if you do... *glowers and sharpens claws*
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Teslyn
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a fleeting presence
Austin sidled away from the ruins, not wanting to be rained on by snowy debris the explosion would certainly kick up. A few steps behind the furthest person away, he waited patiently for the Russian to get to it. Once the boom of the explosion reached his ears and the force of it rocked him from his stance and into an unsteady stumble-step, he caught his balanced and moved forward, stepping lightly enough that his converse left only a partial-impression of the grooved soles in the patted-down snow.

He entered through the gate with only the slightest sense of trepidation - Austin heard the countless stories of the so-called curses set in Egyptian pyramids, and while he doesn't consider himself an idiot, he still liked to be cautious... Okay, maybe he was a little too superstitious, especially considering his profession. He'd spent too many sleepless nights to count terrified - or fantasizing? - Dracula was going to find him while writing his senior thesis, though he'd never admit it to anyone.

What he saw was not quite what he expected - the width and depth of the cavernous hallway, which was clearly some sort of extravagant dining hall considering the plates still set on the tables, create an illusion of high, vaulted ceilings, and the sight of it momentarily took Austin's breath away. It was, in a single word, absolutely awesome. Okay, that was two.

Austin immediately set down the most central path, glancing left and right, his ultimate goal the high-seated throne which, if this was Valhalla as he suspected (or wanted to suspect?) would be Odin's throne. Good God, it was - too impressive for words.

"Jesus Christ," was all he said.



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DarkAngel013
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Sleepy Inspiration
Amethyst jumped back when Mikhael began to start the explosions, apparently no one noticing the far distance she jumped that might have more or less seemed unnaturally far. She picked up her bag and walked on in after them, of course, after admiring the beautiful explosion that the demolition that it had caused, looking as if it were flowers.

She followed them briskly in, like a quiet cat that never seems to appear where it should. Silently, she appeared right behind Logan, him not even noticing that she was there as she walked into the grand hall. For a place so old, it was well preserved, very well preserved.

She barely listened to Mikhael's words as she wandered over to the chair, glancing at the stone before turning her attention to the tableware, noting to herself that they were made of fine jewels and gold. However, she wasn't hired to steal petty tableware, even if they could probably fetch a fine price for just a single fork or spoon.

When Jason handed her a shot of whiskey, she didn't decline and instead took it into her hand, drank it down and then gave him back the shot glass, completely unaffected by the affects of the whiskey as her sharp movements seemed to show. Something felt...

She glanced at the door that Mikhael spoke of, that had contained the armory of the weapons and such that might be inside. Surely there was more to this grand room than this petty grand hall, despite the size.

Without a sound, she walked over to where it held the weapons and armor of Valhalla.

The weapons were all lined perfectly against the walls, some fallen to the ground and in some places, the armor lay on the ground as well, however some were still placed up neatly against the walls. A weapon caught her eye and she cautiously wandered over and blew on it, getting rid of the dust that lay on it.

She picked it up, finding it shockingly light, despite the size. It was a blade, well-decorated with jewels to the point that it seemed to be intricately placed on it. She found its sheath and found it to be just as amazing as the blade itself, for it was about two feet long. The sheath was surprisingly simple, with only a single jewel at the bottom of it, the color dark and rough. Quickly, she hid it in her bag, finding it possible that it might be helpful in whatever events that they were to have.

She stepped over to the end of the room, finding it suddenly odd. She didn't like it, that it was all prepared like this. Something felt off. If this was Valhalla, wouldn't there have been traps and the like to prevent humans from ever entering Valhalla?

Suddenly very wary, she walked over towards the stone, wondering if it was a trap. She felt on her guard, her senses now suddenly sharp. She was at a safe distance from it, her eyes narrowed and cautious about everyone's movements.
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^Clicketh on thy picture. =] Call me Niko-chan~
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Oracle
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Head of Diplomatic Affairs
Winona walked in with childlike wonder. Whether this was in truth Valhalla, she could not yet tell. For the nonce it felt empty of the spirits she expected to feel. The items were all here, but somehow she expected more. In the holy places of her people one could sense the spirits of the ancestors. She reached out trying to feel them. There was still the grandeur of the place. She headed toward the thrones. Stopping for a moment as the whiskey was offered, she subtly declined. Even a little would probably send her into a head-spin, and she wanted her mind clear.

She smiled at Mikhael's enthusiasm. "It's all here... This is the hall where the Aesir and the Einherjar had their daily feasts! And there, that is the armory, where the Einherjar got kept their weapons for when they went out in the valley outside to fight each other, only to be brought back to life at sunset! And that... that must be Odin's throne itself. Either this is a very well made copy, or this really is Valhalla."

Reaching out to touch the very throne of Ódin, the words popped into her head, and she spoke them softly...

" 'What kind of a dream is it,' said Ódin,
in which just before daybreak,
I thought I cleared Valhalla,
for coming of slain men?
I waked the Einherjar,
bade valkyries rise up,
to strew the bench,
and scour the beakers,
wine to carry,
as for a king's coming,
here to me I expect
heroes' coming from the world,
certain great ones,
so glad is my heart.

For Eric Bloodaxe, if memory serves." Her face grew pensive, "if no mortals entered here, who provided the weapons and tableware? Why is it still here? Why is there dust? It seems this would have been raided by looters long ago. But not a single item is missing." Never the less, she herself was reluctant to even lift a plate or touch the weapons, let alone steal them. They did not belong to her. She was waxing sentimental, but the place did feel like nothing more than a room full of artifacts. So why was she so reluctant to reach out and touch the pearl-like stone on the throne? Digging through her pouch she removed one of her brushes, and after blowing lightly to clear some of the dust, she began to brush all traces from the artifact.

The throne itself was larger than would be used by the average human. In fact the person would have to be much larger to fit the frame of the chair. Possibly over ten feet tall. "Mikhael, do you want the honor of lifting the stone? For some silly reason I am reluctant to touch it. Call it Lakota superstition, but I feel like Loki is lurking in the room."


I Role Play because the people in my head tell me to.


TUESDAY AFTERNOON

It is God who can transform the lowest into the highest, who humbles the proud,
and causes that which is in darkness to become light.~Horace

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Silvermourn
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The Redneck, the Cynic, the Nerd, and the Hopeless Romantic

Standing nearby Logan nonchalantly lifted the stone from the throne and neatly tossed it into the air and caught it. They were all so worried about touching that which set on Odin's throne, yet should Odin choose to strike him down that was the right of Odin, even as it should be any man's right to lift that which set on an abandoned chair.
" Lakota superstition probably wouldn't include Loki if you really think about it."

He laughed at his own joke, and as his eyes crossed around the room he realized that Mikhael was probably the rather large Russian and he would probably be unhappy that he was playing with the stone. Yet instead of doing what any sensible person would do and setting it softly back upon the throne to await the giant Russians tender touch, Logan simply clenched it tighter in his fist, looking closely at the stone as he did so. It wasn't in him to admit he had done wrong even when he so rarely realized that he had. He turned his attention to the sphere, ignoring the people in the room to examine it and the various works of art around the room. Including the throne from which he had taken the sphere. If it truly was the throne of Odin, than he was holding something that a god had once held, even if as a god the man was not real, but simply a man with his head full of dreams. Yet Logan liked to think that he was holding in his hand some treasure or possession of the All-Father.
"I mourn that which may have been but will never be."

"Stupidity is a wound that bleeds forever; Intelligence is a blade that stays forever sharp"

"An armed man will kill and unarmed man with monotonous regularity"

"Nothing adds a little class to a sniper course like a babe in a Ghillie suit."

"You have the rest of your life to solve your problems. How long you live depends on how well you do it."

"Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. I may get killed with my own gun, but he's gonna have to beat me to death with it, 'cause it's going to be empty."
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Oracle
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Head of Diplomatic Affairs
"Wait," but it was too late the handsome man had grabbed the stone. Maybe he was empty headed after all. On top of that he was clearly no anthropologist or he would not have made the remark about Loki having nothing to do with Lakota religion.

"You need more study in mythology my friend. Coyote Trickster, also called Loki among my people, has been compared to both the Scandinavian Loki, and also Prometheus, who shared with Coyote the trick of having stolen fire from the gods as a gift for mankind. Similarities can also be drawn with other tricksters, the Polynesian demigod Maui, and Anansi, a mythological hero from Western African mythology. They also stole fire for mankind and introduced death to the world. Religion is tied together and woven into all cultures. Do not mock that which we do not completely understand. There may be more here than meets the eye."

She held her hand out to him, a slight look of pleading in her eyes for him to hand it to her. Some things deserved respect. If nothing else he should be handling it with much more care.

I Role Play because the people in my head tell me to.


TUESDAY AFTERNOON

It is God who can transform the lowest into the highest, who humbles the proud,
and causes that which is in darkness to become light.~Horace

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Dark Jack
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The Phantom Poster
While the others were entering and getting familiar with the surroundings inside the Hall of Valhalla, Mikhael simply remained in the doorway that lead back outside, beholding the discovery - his discovery, what could be the greatest discovery ever, and he felt a wave of awe wash over him. With a sigh, he took another mouthful of vodka, for once smiling because he was happy, and not because he wanted to scare someone. When Winona asked if Mikhael wanted to be the one to walk up and claim the bowling-ball sized orb, Mikhael eagerly moved forward to pick up the relic and be the first one to touch... well, whatever it was, but it was shiny and it was sitting on Odin's throne, so it had to be significant! He stepped across tables, striding through the hall with a feeling of being about to commit something legendary, in the name of Mother Russia!
And so it was also with a thundering roar that Mikhael realized that the tourist-newcomer just walked up to the artifact before Mikhael got there and carelessly and respectlessly tossed it around, as if it was some kind of toy! Mikhael rushed forward, grunting like a rhino and pushing tables and stools aside as he went, his eyes blinded by complete and utter rage and a desire to pound that tourist until he could not be told apart from the floor. And Mikhael had almost gotten there when something that should have been impossible happened... In the tourist's hands, the black orb suddenly seemed to come to life! From deep within it, a yellow glow shone out at them, and as a high-pitched male voice laughed manically, Mikhael suddenly found himself torn from his body, he felt like he was... flying? No, even stranger, he felt like he was nothing, as if he had ceased to exist...

(Let the confusion commence! Congratiolations, you just triggered the plot of the story, and as such, you have called a curse down upon the entire group. The trickery knows no boundries! For now you will see just how mean I can be... All characters will now shift personality! Fun, fun!
Helin's personality will be transferred to Mikhael's body. Mikhael's mind will now be in Austin's body. Austin will take over Amethyst's body. Amethyst will now be Severin. Severin is Winona, Winona is Logan, Logan is Jason, and Jason is Helin. There, I think that was everyone. It's only just begun!)

Mikhael looked around, suddenly located in the center path of the room much farther away from the throne than he had been before, and he had a strange feeling about himself. He felt weak, short and... and... sober! Although, now that he looked around, still with the high-pitched laugher echoing through the room, that perhaps he was just extremely drunk. Since over there, next to the tourist holding the black orb, still with the yellow glow shining from within, he would swear that he saw his own giant frame. Slowly, as if he did not really dare to do so, Mikhael looked down himself... and let out a cry.
He cursed badly in Russian, his voice sounding completely wrong. "I'm the gay kid! Why am I the gay kid? I am Mikhael!"
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Latanya
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lawful good intelligent asshole
Severin watched the explosion, standing straight on a little elevation, his face showing a nearly rapt expression while the wind and heat made him blush slightly. That was definitely a firework worthy to his ancient ancestors… He was sure that they would have appreciated being rediscovered that way, with a sound that would make the whole region aware of their return.

He followed the others slowly and with deliberate steps. This was the moment he had been awaiting for so many years now. Valhalla. The place where true warriors went after their death; the place where he would find heroes such as Hitler and Charles the Great when he continued living a life worthy of a German. Valhalla. Paradise.
“Keine Sorge”, he mumbled quietly in his mother tongue, as he followed his colleagues inside the great hall, trusting that no-one, even if one of them had dared to learn the true Arian language, and to contaminate it with their unworthy mouths, would be able to understand his Prussian dialect. “Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass Euer Andenken in Ehren gehalten wird. Ich werde Euch nicht in die schmutzigen Finger dieser Missgeburten fallen lassen.“ Don’t worry. I won’t let your memory be spoiled by the dirty fingers of those servants.

With an angry frown Severin watched the giant with an obviously American accent lifting the holy stone from Odin’s throne. It seemed as if he had to break his promise already minutes after he had made it. Severin knew that an American, a man without culture, faith or dignity, would never be condign enough to be allowed to touch something of the beauty and history of this stone – that was a privilege only his superior race should possess. However, he knew that there was nothing he could do against it now.

A minute later a sinister laughter resounded, and Severin found himself separated from his body for a moment – and in this moment he could see everything. He watched Odin dining, he watched Valhalla – the place his mortal shell was in at the moment – full of heroes who had died with honor in battle, he saw Fenris breaking two metal chains of an unbelievable diameter, yet being hold down by the twine Gleipnir and biting Tyr’s hand off as a revenge for his lost freedom. He saw the wolf breaking free of them magic chain and devastating large areas, devour Loki himself shortly before being slaughtered by Vidar. And he saw Ragnarök…

A minute later he found himself back in the familiar narrowness of his body and crouched down, glad that he had escaped the view of the Gods at war. That view had outdone any scene he had watched so far in terror and cruelty.

“That happens when someone dares to dishonor something he is not even worthy to touch”, he said gasping, wondering why the hell his voice was so high-pitched. Was he really that shocked…?

Severins hands went up to his chest as a gesture of relief that the Gods had not taken the insult serious enough to do durable harm to them. What he felt were… boobs? Severin jerked back, feeling he whole body, an aghast expression in his face. He was… a woman? “What the fuck”, he shouted, appalled by the nearly screeching tone in his voice. “What the fuck am I doing in here!? I’m not a fucking Indian girl!”
Out of my mind. Back in five minutes.

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The problem is, you can't tell people how to raise their kids - unless they're Austrian, in which case, you're gonna have to.

Ed Byrne.
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Oracle
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Head of Diplomatic Affairs
Winona was watching the stone as it suddenly began to glow like a miniature sun. There was a sinister high pitched male voice and Winona suddenly found herself holding the glowing sphere. How had that happened? Worse than that her hands were huge and when she looked up, she was towering over ...herself. She was somehow in Logan's body. The shock of it was enough that she almost dropped the orb, but instead gently set it back where it belonged. Unlike the others a huge grin spread across her masculine face, as she...he witnessed their confusion. "I told you not to mock the gods. But this is incredible? How did he do it? I have never heard tale of Loki performing such powerful magic. Perhaps Odin himself bestowed the Curse."

She watched as whoever was in her body reached up and touched her breasts, “What the fuck am I doing in here!? I’m not a fucking Indian girl!” The voice was her own, but the accent was decidedly German. "Severin? Have a little respect for my body, please." This could quickly get embarrassing for everyone concerned. Tempers would probably begin to flare soon. She glanced around the room wondering who was who? This was just the kind of trick Loki would play. "I'm the gay kid! Why am I the gay kid? I am Mikhael!"

It was almost laughable, but she kept a semblance of austerity on her now handsome face as she headed toward the body of Austin. "Mikhael? So this is what it feels like to be huge." She watched her hands for a moment before placing them on her hips in a rather feminine manner. "It's Winona here, and I am fairly certain this will not last forever. Loki's mischief was always for a purpose. There must be something we need to learn. He was a notorious prankster, but people generally ended up better off after his mischief. As far as being in Austin's body, if I were you I'd be more concerned that Austin might be in 'your' body.


I Role Play because the people in my head tell me to.


TUESDAY AFTERNOON

It is God who can transform the lowest into the highest, who humbles the proud,
and causes that which is in darkness to become light.~Horace

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