[align=center]Warning if you have a weak stomach, have a bucket handy...
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It was that time again, time for the old hags quarterly bath... not quarter of a year, quarter of a century was good enough for Sycorax. Dragging the heavy tub to the centre of the room, getting it filled with hot water, finding an unbroken mirror in the place (as usually they saw her, screamed and shattered ... at last count between her and Baba Yaga they were up to two million years bad luck between them). Finally ready she dropped the misshapen sack  that she had for considerable time called a dress. Knickers had rotted off long ago, and turned to look in the mirror.  Just before it exploded she realised the minge had become to look like a grassy knoll and similar colour, her leg hair need braiding and she swore she could see eyes peering from the monster minge. "Oi Oi Oi... tis toime ta clean ya up ya rancid haggis."



Gathering up some gardening shears she hefted her guts out of the way and attempted to trim the hedge, but it simply broke the shears "Oi, yer gonna be loike that eh... Oi'll ferk ya" Scrabbling around she found a box of matches and a splash of turpentine... Splashing it on, then lighting a match, the massive bulk of minge hair bursting into flame just as with a roaring Blaaarrrrrrrrt, Sycorax ripped a fart capable of causing global warming all on its own. Of course it caught and blew her ass over head, leags in the air as the jets stream blew the wall out. A dragon flying over saw the flame and found themselves aroused, till it looked upon her spread legged body at which it clawed its own eyes out, flew off into the forest and broke its neck on a tree. The flock of geese flying over didn't fair much better, the results of the thermofartclere explosion blowing off their feathers and fully cooking them on the way down.


Dragging her old wrinkled fat body upright again she looked in the mirror, and lifting her guts so she could see what lurked below she discovered in place of the mangy minge lay two all beef patties, special sauce, pickle on a sesame seed bun at this point the mirror exploded, but feeling around she discovered minge and legs were as smooth as a zombies backside. Now for the serious work... Taking up a pair of blacksmitsh tongs and bending over at an angle that cocked her ass up like Vesuvius, the sight of which caused a family of bats to fall dead from the ceiling, and reaching between her legs she began to dig for a few things she had lost. A sailors hat still glued to a skull, "Oi so thats where yer went yer little ferker, an here was me thinking yer ran away". Then a house brick, a wolfs skeleton, a bears skull and strangely enough a sharks jaw... and... 'Oi Oi, there ye be" her spellbook bound in human skin followed by a shower of maggots, millipedes, centipedes, scorpions, mice, dead rats and the rotting remains of several cats.

Now to clamber into the tub, the water trying to escape, but too late as the wrinkles, warts, pimples, blackheads, whiteheads, boils and carbuncles slid into the water. From clean to pustulent green with... floaters in less then a minute and that was before she threw her saggy old tits over her shoulders and let the water soak into the accumulated detritus of a quarter century. Reaching across for a hammer and chisel to break up the petrified boob goo. A soak for an entire minute then out, shaking her flabbiliscious folds before adding a dash of salt, a hint of rotting greens and yelling out "Soups on" before getting dressed. Sycorax was now ready for anything.

Gods, fates, the illusionary hand of a universe that seeks order in a chaos neither it nor its inhabitants can possibly understand. How he loathed their simplicity, the squandering of their moments day after day. Long he had lived locked away in the shadows, nothing but a memory of what had once been, a shadow of something which had once brought fear and dominance to the universe.


Battles uncounted he had fought with his hands. Blood had once stained the ground wherever his shadow would fall. He had been a warrior without parallel, a perfect creature of war and conflict. His had been the path of the conqueror and his will enough to crush the universe around him. Forged in a fire of pain and loss none would ever know, he had become a myth. The kind of thing for which demon’s checked beneath their beds at night,  a blade which darkness always imagined creeping for its throat in the silence of the void.


King of kings they had called him and he had been without equal. Then she had come like a beautiful curse into his existence. Something so unfathomable and full of allure she had tamed the very fire that burned the lands in his wake.  Where once there had been no equal to his wrath now she stood there mocking him by her very existence.  There should have been a battle for supremacy. Two such beings should not have been able to coexist and yet they did for in her he did not see the coming of his greatest rival but the rebirth of the things long buried in the ashes of his past.


Never had he been stronger, more dangerous.  With her at his side he was unstoppable but even the mightiest of men, even gods know the sting of a broken heart.  She was like the wind un-tamable and without mercy and in the end conflict their very nature had driven them apart. Never would he know truly what had become of her, only of her madness of a great gauntlet ran. Apparently so desperate was she to undo his presence in her life that she would destroy herself.


Feeling the demons in his soul tarring him apart, realizing the inevitable he would destroy the world if he did not stop himself. The king had taken up arms against his own persona and launched a desperate action.  His heart, his memories torn asunder placed into two different vessels, One the essence of his past, his strength, his virtue and honor.  The one who would carry on his alias and presence in this world...Belgorion.  The other the embodiment of his cold calculation the raging fire of his warrior’s spirit in solid form, the wrath of his ancient name in true form Dynesious.  The second would be sealed away a creature of untold power that could not be allowed to walk unchecked upon existence.


In these two the fragments of his memories were buried and when only his true consciousness remained he would seal it within the void of pre-creation.  Here for eons he had slumbered undisturbed. Forever in his dreams he watched the world he had left behind. Belgorion had grown into his mantel once more his strength surpassing even the expectations of the king of kings he had carried his name well. The world had never known the truth of what had happened on that day. That the man carrying his title was but a shadow of his former glory. Dynesious would slumber peacefully within the guardian and all for a time was right in the world. Now his prison shook with all of the beautiful fire of battle. Belgorion made war against a dark creature of his own creation and Dynesious was born unto the world oblivious to the part he was about to play in a prophecy written by a faded and broken memory at the height of its misery.


The personification of his warrior’s soul met a gallant death in battle. The lonely visage of his heart was finally broken and wandered into the desert the futility of its existence finally exposed In their falling misery as Belgorion took his life turning miles of desert into an endless sea of tainted green glass a presence would fall upon the world a king of kings would be reborn.


The land of dreams, the final reward of all fallen warriors a perfect utopia of rest and peace.  Here the voice of war would rise from the ashes of the two fallen souls as they passed on. There would be a no peace, no reward. Only the fruition of a purpose neither of them had ever known while they lived.  Their fires mingled becoming one once again and from deep within the shadows the memory took solid form. The chains that bound it to this place no more as they fell to dust within the void.


A call to arms, the seething imposing fire of war itself fell upon this word. They all felt it, every single one of them. The hero’s of legend whom had long slumbered in tranquility their blades silent and dull.  Rising up they prepared for battle, their fire eternal in their souls driving them forward to meet what was coming. Even in death their instinct to never fall ruling over all else.


In legion’s they came their great banners rising into the sky. Their shields crashed upon in proclamation battle cries not heard for thousands of years echoed into the air as they dared call down the vengeance of the demon which had awakened of that which now weaved the flame of war within an iron fist.


No fear would be felt within the army of legend but even in their own cores unease would form as the enemy made itself known. This was  a legend among legends it was death, it was the face of what it meant to truly be one of their number.


The king left none living none able to tell…  The king took their heads and he sent them to hell. An insidious whisper would crawl upon the wind snaring its virtue and strength driving it into the ground and from the blackness of nothing the hiss of plague personified would come.  A dark swarming cloud of destruction, billions of tiny voices in unison calling for the flesh of all whom would stand in their masters wake.  The sickening darkness covered the ground, devouring the life within. Nothing but wilted and drying ashes left behind as it advanced upon the armies of legend.  The clash of Ragnarok itself loomed and in the unending tide of death a thirst was growing.  The collective longed for the taste of their lives, to spill their blood in glorious proclamation but it was not to happen as the masters hand pulled back upon their leash and brought it all to an end.


Like a pillar of sickening disgust the living mass of subversion would rise into the heavens. Fire born from within its depths forming pillars upon the clouds themselves and from deep within the chaos destruction reborn would come.


He walked upon the heavens like a god casting his spite down upon the world. Tall and beautiful six feet two inches tall wrapped in great blackened armor. Against his side hung a great dark sword the cries of tortured souls screaming from within its edge.  Stark white hair billowing out behind him as he walked flames licking his lips as he grinned, resolve burning in perfect blue eyes a smirk upon his face. The unmistakable look of a man whom knew he could know no rival.


From high above he raised his blade over the hero’s and when he spoke it was with the charm and glamour of a god, with the conviction of a general calling his men to arms.  â€œ HOW LONG HAVE OUR BLADES BEEN SILENT?!!  He boomed over them all the storm of chaos itself circling around him. “HOW LONG HAVE OUR DEEDS BEEN FORGOTTEN? OUR SACRIFICES MADE NOTHING BY THESE SELFISH FOOLS WHOM TAKE OUR UNIVERSE FOR GRANTED??  HOW LONG WILL YOU BE SILENT AND ALLOW IT TO HAPPEN?? “

War gave pause now letting his words sink into their minds feeling their will begin to stir the delight of the fire slowly igniting beneath him causing his soul to rage onward. “Hear me my brothers .. our time is now. “He spoke lowering his timber addressing them now as equals. “ We have been forgotten, forsaken by those we protected and soon they will bring all we left behind to destruction. What I ask is if you will remain silent as it happens .. or return with me to the world bring the path of conquest back to humanity show them the light and error of their ways?”  There was a conviction in his tone a confidence and of all things he turned his back upon them.

There was no insult in it, no as he did this the great striding wolf banner of a long forgotten kingdom would unfurl in his wake and he would gesture forward to a void that opened before them a gate to the world they had left behind. “TELL ME WHO STANDS WITH ELRUM WHO HAS THE COURAGE TO STAND WITH THE LEGENDS IN MYTH MIGHT AND SONG!!” He asked as he stepped through the curtain back onto the stage of humanity. He heard their roar in unison even as he passed between worlds “IN MYTH MIGHT AND SONG” they roared into the heavens and soon they spilled through into the ruin’s of the ancient kingdom.  The great general had risen again and with him the mighty banner of his kingdom Elrum had returned to the world once more.  Far and wide his riders would venture even now carrying word of his coming, calling to arms those whom would stand with him and bring back to the world prosperity and salvation. Elrum would be a light for the forgotten a home for those whom  had no place in the world which now dominated with stupidity and hate.


There were no orders to be given for his army was of the greatest. Already fortification’s were being constructed, the ruins dug into and soon from deep within the rubble a great golden throne would be carried, the guardian king staring at it for a moment before slicing it in two. “ No I will not sit upon a throne until our dreams are realized . .We stand equal’s on the field of battle I ask that you follow me but I shall not look down upon my brothers as if I were above them” He said as he lowered himself to labor working with them to fortify the city.  


He had lead men all his life and the one thing he knew for sure was that soldiers would die for a god and a king. They would stand without falling for a brother and a friend for a shared dream and that was what this new kingdom would be founded on. The ideals of honor and heroism of brother hood that the current world had long forsaken. Perhaps his eyes did scan the horizon for he knew they would come.. those whom had not passed for even in this world there were still hero’s.  Perhaps in this world even remnants of his past remained and a confrontation loomed for he himself .. if he could draw it out.

[align=center](W.I.P.)

Ulyssiask Grégos tu Zéoshett
Ithae of Saqar - Godking of Cékop - Son of Mu-ra

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Born to the House of Zéoshett, of Myde-thiir tu¹ Zéoshett and Sarras tu Itimu - named Ulyssiask, after the ancient titan of Cékopin mythology² who stopped the world from ending, and Grégos, after an ancestor who served as the first Ithae³ of Saqar - on the third night of the second manz⁴ of Greos⁵, in Northeastern Beldro of Leslands - bordering the Seliir⁶ estate, just Northwest of Labéa (the capital city of Cékop), during the Ti’ren dynasty⁷ - seventeen anzia⁸.

---

Reference:

¹ tu - meaning of or belonging to, a given house or family name, as indicated by the name that follows, as determined by the credence for naming children born of Cékop;

² Cékopin mythology - a subset of the religious and sanctimonious rites and beliefs of the people within Saqar, depicting celestial bodies, gods, titans, and so forth;

³ Ithae - originally, a prophesied king or godking or immortal, as dictated by the natural need of a ruler to rise and lead the people, descendant of the holy family of Arris; perverted in use by Morga tu Ti’ren, who began the dynastic rule of Cékop;

⁴ manz - akin to a calendar week, containing eleven events known as “norasas”, which are days that measure similarly to other calendar days, by sunrise and nightfall, but are approx. seventeen and one half hours long of day, and eleven hours of night;

⁵ Greos - the first season in a full calendar ‘year’, better known to Cékopins as an “etos”, representative of four seasons, the first being equivalent to Spring;

⁶ Seliir estate - where the borders of Cékop end, Saqar continues as farmlands and fields, or vacant land and mountainous ranges, generally granted to a family with high status in the capital;

⁷ Ti’ren dynasty - Morga tu Ti’ren, who murdered his predecessor, ended the traditional democracy of Saqar, split the land into regions, and took rulership of Cékop, assuming the false title of Ithae, and beginning a dynasty to secure his family’s rule;

⁸ anzia - a term coined for momentous events, generally indicative of one thing ending and another beginning; usually preceded by a number indicating etos (years) prior to the event; as in 1 anzia (or 1 a.), meaning one year before (the event).


[align=center]Ancestry & Roots


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Please be advised the use of T2|T3|T4+ combat or any other 'game system' is not approved nor permitted on this forum. Metagaming and auto-hits are also not permitted on this forum. This is is not for debate or negotiations. The only fighting styles accepted on this forum are as follows:

T1 is a multi-style way of combat that has been in RP since the days of Yahoo Roleplay when the Rooms were known as Entertainment and Arts shortly after the creation of the 'Games' (later changed to Arts and Entertainment, developed by a group of fellow roleplayers along with the members of  Kelindil's site. It was not derived by just one person unlike what some out there claim who never stood foot in yahoo let alone Arts and Entertainment.




The Following are approved combat methods on this forum:




T1 Melee|T1 M

T1 Melee is another variation of standard T1. It is basically the same thing as T1 itself, however there is no magic, spells, psychic abilities, attributes, or even powers for that matter. It is to  fight without magic, gnosis or  mana of any type which can be very linear and God-like if abused.


T1 Realistic Melee|T1 RM

T1 Realistic Melee is yet again another spin-off of standard T1, but more so a spin-off of T1 Melee. T1 Realistic Melee is based on things that only real humans can do. You can still use weapons if you wish, but no unnatural or in-human abilities of any sort or the use of sentient/magical weapons.


T1 Innate (Racial & Item)|T1 I

T1 Innate (Racial & Item) is again a variation of T1, but more so a sub-style of  T1 realistic melee just only with magical items or special abilities that your character might have due to race or other 'gifts' given at birth.


T1 H2H| H2H

T1 H2h is probably the simplest version of standard T1, think of it as T1 for slackies. All your really allowed to do is punch, kick, grapple, throw, more or less all the standard things you'd expect to see in a real fight down the block a few streets. No weapons are allowed unless you find them on the ground, or are part of the enviroment in which you might be fighting in, that is, if you use an enviroment at all. Also, no special powers or abilites are allowed.


T1 Moderate Powers|T1 MP

Commonly used now as a more realistic look towards T1 PC. The characters in this style have special powers, just not ones that have a power that is capable of destroying an entire planet. Powers such as elemental abilities are acceptable, but if there is a power that is capable of using all elements you must keep that power in moderate use. Perfect example would be Bleach, and Naruto.

T1 PC

T1 PC is a spin-off of the original Type 1 text based combat system; T1 PC allows you to do anything and everything you want, be it Close Quarters Combat (CQC) or hand to hand (H2H) combat, to weapons, magic, seemingly anything your mind can conjour up. That is of course, you strictly follow your characters abilities (which must be mentioned in your charaters bio prior). "God Moders". The depth put into one character, with the powers, abilities, explanations of terrain, dimension, sub-abilities, character background, and traits will lead an inexperienced opponent to believe there is invincibility about the character. It has no true limits or possibilities, which mean it can often be over whelming to those who aren't familiar, or all that great with the standard T1 style.

While T1 PC originally started as casting fire balls and summoning legions of the undead and other such feats, it has now moved on to things like theoretical and quantum physics. T1 PC can go from being an extremely good fight with very realistic, yet very advanced players, to being a fight between players who don't want to lose and turn into Gods for lack of better words. That is the major flaw with T1 PC, and why I personally don't like the style. Too many people are to bent on winning and power crazed characters (as commonly seen in IMVU) rather then using T1 PC in a fashionable, respectable sense while applying common sense. Thus when it is mistreated, it is degraded and loses all it's interest, or so some of the more experienced roleplayers might tell you, "Get lost kiddo!".



If however you are not a combat or T1 roleplayer, use your common sense and don't enter a thread or situation where you place your character at risk. This IS entering combat by your own consent and therefore liable for whatever outcome may follow.


Thank you...

We try to live different lives, be different people and when it is we go against our truest of natures is when we struggle the hardest. Eventually, after a time we rise and our true nature glistens anew giving us the strength to stand once more. I may of lost what I cherished, watched my people struggle - but now, I am ready to stand once more.

|Kirthasthaqu Chamber|

Adrin seemed uninterested in the proceedings, eyes locked onto the screen of a secured datapad as the various representatives gave input on the topic of interest. He had already reviewed the so called operational data on their mission to the Elysium Spiral and had dismissed it. His attempts to uncover the whereabouts of Sorle had lead him to a solitary conclusion - Lao'Taun and the HoL had sent him to Ayenee. Cold blue eyes narrowed as he looked up briefly towards Fujiko who sat next to the Photarathara, the central-most platform reserved for Lao'Taun and those who were closest to him.

He shifted his posture slightly in the chair, musculature in his face tightening which accented the structure of what was once regarded as perfection for his species. A name he had been given, one forced upon him in some propgandist attempt to smooth over the fact that his people had lost. As far as he was concerned the Miqursha name might as well mean "Defeated" in whatever Cli'cha tongue it had been developed in.

"Do you have a problem Viceroy?" The bold, strong feminine voice of Fujiko raised above the chatter in the chamber as she looked back towards Adrin with a cruel smirk.

Adrin glanced back down at his datapad and then looked up again, his back straightened against the back of the chair and he replied, "I was just musing to myself; my only problem remains to reside in how deceptive you can really be -- by all means please continue whatever it is you are trying to accomplish." His words were dismissive and his attention purposely appeared to be redirected as he looked back down at what he had been reading.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Fujiko answered, tongue striking with a relentless manner. "I at least come to this chamber to carry out my duties. Not trying to hack into encrypted mindhive storage trying to access data on a classified mission." Her words were revealing, damning and stirred every single entity in the chamber to attention.

"What would you know of duty? You've spent months betraying your own family - your people and all to sit there in a position you gained through the dishonorable murder of one of your own!" Adrin's words carried an emotion, one that brought a shock to many. For almost a century those who knew him had only seen a subdued nature, a quiet and calculated man who perhaps was paying a little more attention then he gave them credit for.

"Lecaeus was weak, the same as you were. Do I need to remind you that your pathetic last stand involved a fight that lasted barely seven hours? Viceroy Miqusha, perhaps you are no longer able to complete your duties. I am relieving you of your duty, until you either fix whatever your malfunction is or you end up executed for your delusions." Fujiko made a motion, the two sentries stepped up behind Adrin's chair, ready to escort him out of the chamber. "Now go..." she said, returning the sarcastic dismissive tone he had previously given. "...before I make you look like a coward by having you forcefully removed." She stood up on the Photarathara looking directly towards Adrin.

Adrin tapped on the datapad a few times, inputting something and then the screen blinked dark. He stood up from his chair, looking back briefly as the two guards stood up. "My name will never be Miqusha, it is Eitan..." He said, turning as if he was going to comply with the guards. The chamber was full of whispers, those watching it unfold trying to guess if it would be the last they would see of the Viceroy. The command he had inputted into the datapad activated and the volumetric banners in the chamber changed, the crest of the Eitan Clan rippling into view on every single projector. Adrin moved quickly, turning to the left, he grabbed the sentry and threw him over the railing, sending him into a nose dive to the chamber floor which was stories below.

The other sentry reacted immediately, and Adrin twisted his body landing his  right elbow directly into the nape of the guard's neck. His body moved with the graceful arts long forgotten by generations that had been raised under oppression. In a fluid sweeping momentum, his motion flowed, continuing past where his elbow had landed, bringing him face to face with the sentry allowing him to land a bone crushing jab to the exact same spot with the opposite hand. Adrin shoved the second sentry over the balcony, the entire chamber was in chaos and Fujiko was attempting to give orders.

Adrin bolted out and into the corridor, alarms rang and there was no doubt in his mind it would only be a matter of time until the place was crawling with sentries. Reaching one of the junctions, he stopped and opened one of the maintenance tunnels and slipped inside sealing it behind him. He stopped just long enough to watch a group of sentries race past it and then continued to weave through the confined space of pipes and equipment.

The problem with trying to flee on the Chonyosa, was the Leviathan herself. Her internal sensory systems were quick to adapt and he knew he had to keep moving. He went right at the next junction and opened one of the containment doors into one of the cargo bays and slipped through.

"What the hell is going on?" the voice of Nira came over his comm.

Adrin continued moving, trying to find a place he could fortify if he needed to trying to put as much distance between himself and the access doors as possible. "A bad time right now, but I think it is safe to say I have pissed your daughter off and am likely going to end up on some bug's dinner plate if I don't get out of here." Adrin looked up as the access doors opened, "Sorry, got to go." he terminated the transmission and moved beyond one of the stacks of crates.

Adrin pressed his back against the support pylon on the other side of the stack, counting as the energy blasts drilled the other side of it, sparks flying past his head. He waited a few seconds, twisted himself around he depressed both triggers, moving out from behind the pillar he strifed to the left, the phasic rounds from his side arm caused the air around them to ripple as they zipped towards their targets. One of the HoL sentries taking a round right in the chest was tossed back against the bulkhead like a rag doll.

"Adrin, come out...We can just say I pushed you to lose your temper. We can handle this with a light hand." Fujiko said, eight of her remaining sentries fanning out into the bay, coordinating their movements in an attempt to push Adrin towards one of the corners.

Adrin laughed, "Sounds like a good plan. Then again, I don't believe a word you say Fujiko. He knew they were approaching, he had to get out of there. The layout of the bay unfortunately didn't allow for an exit, safe for the airlock which was a death sentence. One of the sentries neared, opening fire as Adrin dove behind some containers. He hit the ground hard, skidded on the polished black floor as he turned his body and opened fire and nailed the sentry right in the head. There was too many of them, his ears twitched as he could hear their footfalls growing closer. "Ugh..." he mumbled, trying to come up with something.

His comm blinked again, this time it was not from Nira but from an unregistered source:

"I GRANT YOU ABSOLUTION."

Adrin shook his head uttering to himself, "Not a good time for whatever this is." He pushed himself back in between two of the stacks of containers and stayed on the ground. A second message came through at the same time:

"HOLD STILL"

Fujiko walked right in front of him and turned almost as if knowing, looking down at Adrin as she aimed her pistol towards his head. "Looks like this one lasts shorter than seven hours." she pulled back slightly on the trigger, whispering as she was about to pull it fully, "Goodbye Uncle."

The site to site transporter activated just as Fujiko pulled the trigger, Adrin's form dematerializing leaving her shot to miss and hit one of the containers. "No!" she screamed, watching as the faint outline that remained of him disappeared.


***


Adrin had closed his eyes, believed he was about to get vaporized and suddenly there was nothing, the air changed as well as the temperature; it was colder, more comfortable and the background noises were different. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the difference in illumination. He slowly stood up, taking a look around himself only for his mouth to open slightly in shock. He was standing on a teleportation pad, transparent walls encompassing it, the floor panels translucent black with a blue illumination behind them. "Where am I?" he asked, looking towards the control panel on the other side of the wall where two operators sat, one male, one female wearing white uniforms with black panels.

The access door behind the operators opened and another female emerged, this one wearing a predominantly black uniform with white panels reversed from what the others wore. It was tightly fitting, obviously of synthetic material of some sort. A black leather belt stretched around her waist, with a single strap that crossed looping over her right shoulder. A weapon of some sort was holstered where the belt and sash joined, and other various implements were visible on the belt. It was an impressive look, but as his eyes scaled her form it was what he seen in her face that shocked him. Dark violet hair framed a narrowly gauged face with high set cheekbones, crystalline eyes reflecting the blue hues of the lights within the room and slenderly tipped ears which twitched ever so slightly to the electronic chirps of the systems in the control area. "Caelai tharaes..." ("Hello father") Rin said, giving a nod to the operator to unseal the teleportation chamber.

Adrin didn't answer, he just stared forwards and looked Rin directly in the eyes as he tried to figure out what to say. He was covered in dirt, uniform top ripped up from navigating the guts of the Chonyosa. He looked as if he had been through a war and it didn't stop him from maintaining his usual menacing posture. He stepped down off the platform and stepped slowly towards where it opened up into the control area. He was at a loss for wards, glancing over briefly at the two operators and then back to Rin. "Where.." he whispered, "...where is this? Where am I?" He asked, looking at the walls, nothing was familiar, and it sure was not some old bucket that had been left over from before the war.

Rin watched him, his reactions and replied with a slight nod of her head, "Safe, that is what is important for now." There was little sign of the young one that had been left behind, only a woman who knew who he was but nothing about him. "You're lucky to be alive." She said, leading the way out and into the corridor.

He had never seen anything like it, metallic gray panels, transparent panes that overlooked some kind of open central area and the visible layers of decks on the other side, it was some kind of ship or base he couldn't tell which. The corridors were busy, full of officers and crew rushing from one place to another. "How did you survive?" He asked, trying to figure it all out.

Rin grinned smugly and said, "You will see. I have a lot to show you and tell you." She lead him to one of the internal teleportation pads which immediately sent them to the main bridge.