Manix needed a break. A break from research, a break from training, a break from channeling. He decided to walk down to the docks to scout out new property for the expatiation of the fleet heading his way. He needed more dock room, storage facilities and Guard houses. He smiled, some break, but he walked slow.

The Lir Compound look amazing from the outside and complimented the mansion perfectly. The rest of the neighborhood was in shambles. "The Kid" a Jr Marine had reported back to him that the contractor's workers lived in poor housing conditions. They had seen too much of Manix's power and he had set up a health care clinic as a bribe, but now he was thinking of doing more.

Manix wanted to follow in the example of his father, Larson Lir', whom used part of the early fortune to build housing for those in need upon the isle of Mann. and within a few years he commanded the locality of the whole Isle simple with generosity. Manix would do the same for this neighborhood.

Manix pulled out his wallet and tapped out a quick message to Chief: "Chief please buy up all property within a 12 square block radius of compound, or within main street/highway arteries. I'll take care of the contractor."
With that done Manix let his mind rest and enjoy the pleasant walk to the river side docks.

Ana had kicked all the men to the basement. Cruz and Christian were downstairs doing whatever it was that Nox had been teaching her son. Ana didn't want to know the dangerous things that boy was teaching her son, but Cruz was definitely becoming a different man. Not cocky persay, but more confident in his natural born abilities. He'd always been gifted - now he was doubly so. The idea that her son came with these powers scared her - they frightened Dorian even more. She'd found her husband pacing the halls of the third floor that morning, she'd invited him into her sitting room and they talked. Christian had set an alarm for 4am and had gotten to work early. But Ana knew that it was because the new young man in their care was up at 4am and already working downstairs in the basement.

Dorian left then to catch a few hours of sleep before he was off in the morning as well. Ana's day was planned to the fullest. There was a great deal of redecorating that would be done and today she hoped that the little wolf girl would help with Nox being away. Cruz was going back to school so Nox would be away.

Ana sat in the kitchen waiting for the only other female body in the house to join her. Ana sipped at her coffee and nibbled at her egg white omelet. When the girl walked in Christian set coffee and a plate of breakfast on the seat next to Ana's and then left the kitchen for some much needed girl talk. Ana smiled. "How did you sleep, Elyse? Your boy was up early again."

It had been a shitting month - all starting with his house blowing up. Now magic was real, he was likely on the most wanted listed for the Atharim as a traitor - not even a god just a plain old traitor, Nox wasn't sure which was worse. Betraying everything he knew and loved for strangers and Aria. Aria dragged him with her but he'd made this choice before he understood what Aria would do and where she'd take him.

But it was that one event that he was remembering today. Nox had woken up early as always and found himself in the basement running through forms and dancing his way to oblivion. He remembered the fight with Bas in his own dojo back in the warehouse. Nox was going to miss his friend. Though he wasn't lacking in friends at the moment. Christian had kept him company until about 6am when he went back up to the kitchen. He'd at least have a friend in the so-called butler of the house.

But Christian wasn't just a butler from the interactions he'd seen with him and Dorian. Friends, brothers - there was a lot more to their relationship than employer and employee. At 8am Nox send Pytor a message from his old phone telling him to meet him at Kallisti in the Red Light District. One thing that had always stuck with Nox about Bas as his after battle plans - and this was the closest thing he could come to it. "Let's remember Bas in a place he would have loved." It wasn't about the girls - not really, it was honoring Bas' last memory. And Nox knew he'd been there often he'd seen Bas' file at the end. It was the last place he'd been before he died.

Nox had told Christian where he was going and he said Ana would keep Elyse busy while he was away. Nox frowned knowing that what Ana wanted to do was not likely to be something an Atharim would enjoy - girl or not. But he thanked his friend and let Elyse know. It wasn't a big deal, he told her where he was going and why. He wasn't asking permission but she'd said it was okay to go - have fun. Nova stayed with Christian. Dorian had no problem with the puppy and Ana had scooped him up and covered her little blue dress in dog hair and only laughed about it.

Cruz went to class and Nox was introduced as his friend. Though the guys Cruz hung with were all the brainy types they all seemed like good guys. But his morning and afternoon were boring and the classes he attended were way over his head. School was so not his thing.

By the time 7pm rolled around and Nox was walking into Kallisti he'd had a full on boring day. He looked around and didn't see his friend yet so he took a seat in a booth and waited. When the waitress came around Nox smiled at her. "I'll just have a bottled beer - whatever is cold."
He didn't even ask for it unopened. This was about Bas not about showing off.

As Damien specifically asked to be excluded from interactions with the Lirs, Elias did not beg him to come along. In fact, he was all too eager to leave the golden haired man behind. The weather was slowly warming, but for a born and raised Utah bred Mormon, Elias was still nestled in thick layers of leather, his outermost coat trailed all the way to his boots. They left heavy footsteps as he trailed the sidewalk, seeking the address in a neighborhood that should have made him uncomfortable. Anyone that thought to approach was given a long, black, shadowy-stare even as he grasped the power of Rage into his mind. He let it fill him, Rage, until the violence flickered across his features, daring anyone to think to try something. With the beautiful, young Asha in his company, more than a handful seemed to think about it, but a mere glance at Elias and they backed off. For such a skinny kid, he was far too confident. With the powers of Rage on everyone's tongue, people were wary. Nobody knew who the next wielder would be. There was more Rage could do than melt buildings with one's mind.

He craned his neck back, studying the massive construction site, and pushed piles of black hair aside. Thick as a blanket, it fell from his eyes. He knew the Lir family was involved in shipping and he saw the release of their newly allowed private navy. So he assumed the construction was related to industry. Odd that it was based out of Moscow, so far from the sea. Damn, so far from the sea. But these days, who cared. Moscow was filled with weirder stuff.

He glanced at Asha, shrugged and approached the door. He was not wielding Rage as he did. He tended to leave cracks in the cement in his footsteps when walking and Rage toyed from his mind. He was sharp, though, eager. He was finally about to get answers. After all this time searching.

He knocked, loudly.

CCD Dominance II has released, surprisingly, news that they have issued The Lir Family Industries, Larson Lir CEO, A permit to convert 3 Defensive ships into "Jager class" warships. These 3 Destroyers will be used to combat the increasing pirate activity accosting the Lir' family and many other seas merchants.

Larson Lir's son, Fleet Captain Manix Lir will head up the fleet while Captain SynJyn Quick will lead the sea and ground special operations teams, nick named The Vikings.

Details of the permit includes 3 "Jager class" Destroyers, 200 maximum troops, limited to weaponry of less than 1 mile range and no armed assets within 1 mile of the Kremlin. The Lir' family released this statement.

"This fleet and it's more than special crew are a primary defensive force of every ship that float these waters and to fill a gap that the CCD does not have time to cover. Under current standard operating procedures the fleet will not engage in any offensive activity. They will only respond to direct threats to the Lir family and/or other legal shipping merchants. Any and all questions should be directed to Fleet Captain Manix Lir'"

While a surprising move by the CCD, which hold no direct line of command over this navy, the success or failure could set a new president in private Milita.


Edited by Manix, Oct 2 2016, 08:29 PM.

A couple days after the video was released by the Lir navy of the sea creature, marine biologists around the globe were up in arms over its authenticity. Elias, having a full semester of study as a marine biologist major, vaguely followed the chatter online. But it was through his uncle's wallet, still logged into to the various research journals and forums in the field, that he was able to track specifics.

Barely a few percentages of the whole ocean had been explored. The primary argument was whether such a beast could have existed all this time without being encountered, if so, where has it made its home, how old was it, and were there more of them. What did it hunt? Where did it roam? Or was it all an elaborate hoax?

Elias knew the truth. He felt it in his gut.

He sent messages to the Lir's as soon as he found their contact information.

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Message</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>


"I believe you. I need to speak with Captain Syn jyn as soon as possible. That beast killed my uncle and I believe the New Zealand government covered it up. I'm in Moscow, but I'll go anywhere in the world to talk to him.

-Elias Donovan"

Six awful hours. Little truly scared her, but the thought of her feet so far from the ground stuck an uneasy knot in her belly; one that did not unfurl until her boot heel touched soil. She drowned in music for most of the flight, tapping her fingers restlessly against her thigh. Conversation with the man next to her proved fruitless; he produced a compact laptop and barely stopped typing the entire trip. She could have closed her eyes, sought solace in the Dream, but her senses were too fraught to relax into vulnerability; her subconscious determined that she should not be caught senseless.

Customs pawed over her scant baggage -- the security here was a tightly coiled spring, and something about her face clearly sparked suspicion. They poked about the skin and bone fragment curiously, and Tenzin stifled the urge to bite the man's hand clean off for the way he handled the delicate artefacts. When they queried it she told them they were trinkets purchased from a flea market in Delhi. They barked a brief conversation amongst themselves, but ultimately let her pass. There was little else to hold her on. She'd had to leave her weapons behind; there was no easy way to smuggle them through.

The streets smelled different from India. A pang of loss met the first breeze to brush her skin; a mournful howl for the sudden grip of loneliness. It felt foreign, but she had always had a curious soul. Purpose drove her. She'd feel better once she'd carved a space in this new city.

Her first stop was an internet cafe. She shoved her bag carefully under the table, the strap hooked under her foot. Roopkund's secrets remained within, wrapped delicately in her spare clothes and way from curious eyes. Instead she worked from a photo snapped with her very basic phone, the small holo flickering as the battery drained. A search filtered on the computer in front of her. Technology was not her strong suit, but she wanted to gather at least basic knowledge of what she'd found.

alright. who wants to go on an adventure? I hate writing by myself. hah.

Jaxen earned the day of sleep after the three days of work. Well, not that he called it work, but three days with barely a nap and he crashed as soon as he was home. But not before taking the moment to smirk at the pile of Oriena's discarded clothes. He even picked up the leather pants and held them up to himself in front of the mirror. The tapered legs were too skinny to fit much more than his calf, and despite a tight, narrow ass on himself, there was no way he was going to fit in them. Not that he wanted to, but now he thought about it, he hadn't purchased a new pair of leather pants in ages. Would need to remedy that soon.

Tossing them aside, he crashed in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what happened to the Narwahl tusk that his father's goons confiscated. There was nothing in the news about its return to the Museum, so he assumed it had been sold on the black market. Jaxen wasn't the only eccentric rich kid in the world. Whoever had Maximilian's sword was a lucky bastard too.

That only meant he needed new treasures to replace what he'd lost. Nuada's sword of light was something he needed. A lick your lips, fingers rubbing frantically, tap your chin with nefarious intent kind of need. He fell asleep imagining a glass sword glowing bright in his hands. And as dreams tended to do, he was a bloody master when he raised it against his enemies, laughing all the while at the power it gave him.

When he woke, the sword was first on his fresher mind. He began the internet searches while in the shower, but found nothing useful but folklore and myth. First he had to figure out who the hell Nuada was.

Nuada Airgetlám was the first king of the Tuatha de Danann in Ireland. When he arrived, he led the rebellion against the leader of the natives that inhabited there, but in battle lost a hand, one that was replaced with a magical silver prosthetic. The remnants of the defeated natives fled to Greece and the Tuatha de took up rule of the island. Nuada was eventually killed in battle against the Fomorian king, the Tuatha De's primary enemy, but was avenged by the great knight of his court. It was his great sword that Jaxen coveted, and he drank in every myth and legend that mentioned it. But there was little information on its destiny, other than it was buried in a safe place along with the other three treasures of the Tuatha de Danann.

Other than seeking where it was put to rest, perhaps the best trail was to seek its origins. The four treasures came each from four separate islands bearing great cities: Murias, Falias, Gorias and Findias. A book called "The Four Jewels" supposedly described the location of these origins: The Yellow Book of Lecan (Leabhar Buidhe Leacáin). Written on vellum, it was housed in Trinity College in Dublin. It would be easy enough to visit, and Jaxen made note to search the college's history next. in it, the four islands were described as being in the "great northern sea," which conjured images of ice, narwhal tusks, and warm mead in Jaxen. Each island was also home to separate branch of druids, teaching knowledge, prophecy, and magic. Well, Jaxen certainly believed that. Perhaps there were more treasures besides weapons to find on these islands.

The sword of Light originated on Findias, where ever the hell that was.

"Looks like I'm going to Dublin."


Now. Who to take along for the ride? Oriena? Manix? He'd have to think on it. Needed to be someone fun, that was for sure.


Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Feb 3 2018, 09:56 PM.

The worst part was when her mind stretched to its limit, then snapped back like elastic. After that her pack was gone, too far away to sense, and Tenzin was truly alone -- with many more miles to travel. The scent of a trail look her east before south to Delhi, following curious rumours to a village in Uttarakhand. Shadows kissed the sky before she arrived, joining a group of weary women trekking home after a day spent collecting green-fodder for cattle. They made amiable company, and Tenzin was glad to bask in the murmur of their voices and the steady heartbeat of their footsteps. It was another hour before they finally pierced the heart of the village.

Elder Gokul welcomed her curious visit, and over chai and warm stew he spun a story, relieved to have it reach rākṣasa hatyārā ears. An Ancient Soul had visited -- one of the Spirit Possessed -- and they and a companion had awakened a beast that slumbered at Roopkund. Gokul had offered a great treasure to appease both man and beast; one that would allow stealthy passage to the tunnels below. He touched Tenzin's sleeve, where her tattoo nestled, when he admitted the talisman he'd given bore the mark of the saṃsāra. Her brows peeked in question, but he did not know what the amulet did: just that it had allowed the man to kill the beast, though at grave cost.

"Another man died,"
he told her. "Now more will come."


It was a four day trek to the lake. Roopkund was surrounded by glaciers and situated near the base of two of the three Himalayan peaks that made up the Trident, an area completely remote of civilisation. The lingering stench of burnt flesh seared her nostrils as she approached the ridge that once held a basin of thick, clear ice. But nothing of that remained. The water had drained entirely, baring the curve of an underground entrance amidst the hundreds of bones. On instinct Tenzin's senses sang out, seeking her pack's support -- and finding nothing. A frustrated snarl curled her lip, but she pressed on fearlessly across the carpet of bones.

Natural stone curled above her head. A staircase down into darkness. She recoiled at the faint tang in the air, the hairs on the back of her neck shivering. Death lingered, though the body had been removed. She padded on curious paws, stiff with caution, but scented nothing alive within. Discomfort prickled her skin at the hug of stone walls; she tried to align her thoughts with that of a den, but her surroundings were too alien to supply comfort. Water pooled at the bottom, thick and deep, overwhelmingly stagnant. Curious fingers touched the smooth walls, imagining the beast rising swift and sinuous to once break the ice overhead.

After a moment longer she found a door still cracked open, an inscription above it. She devoured the image hungrily, then pushed into the space within. A low hum of awe escaped the next breath to leave her lungs. Lights hung suspended in nothingness, casting watery shadows over the room within. The air was surprisingly clean for so deep underground, but overcast by a hint of salt that made her think of the coast - somewhere this place was far from. Treasures crammed the space, but her gaze was caught on the walls behind, where spidery inscriptions and faint images hung in shadows.

At the centre, cleared by a ring swept clean, stood an altar. She knelt by it, gaze following the intricacies of its design. "You are very old,"
she told it reverently. Now that the beast was dead and the lake's secret flung to the wind, it would only be a matter of time before this cavern's treasures were despoiled. Tenzin adored the deeper mysteries, but it seemed a shame to disturb them in order to excavate their secrets. Her fingers shadowed the relief of a trishula amidst the waves, rising and falling with each of its prongs. Creation, maintenance, destruction. Past, present future. The three gunas.

"And you were guarded by something very powerful."


She stood from her crouch, contemplating the shortness of her time here as her eyes skipped over the glimmers of gold and pearl. She had no interest in plunder, but this was obviously an Ancient place -- the lights alone were clearly spirit-wrought. Its excavation should not be left to unknowing minds; something of great value had been kept here. But she had no Athari cousins to easily call upon, and no way of knowing what she sought. As Gokul feared, other men would come before long. Nothing could stop that.

Her jaw hardened against the desire to leave everything untouched. She did not look for items of value, but for those inscribed with written word. Things that might be of importance or of use to understand what was left behind. A few minutes intent search unfurled an animal skin that still smelled of the sea, its innards roped with letters. Within nestled a gleaming fragment of carved bone. Her brows pulled low at the strange revelation. She recognised the letters but could not read them. They were ancient Greek.

It was cold down here, and every second leeched more warmth from her skin. Tenzin itched to stay, but the wolf in her soul thrashed with the need to escape. She had four days trekking ahead in these frigid climes, and could not afford to weaken her body by lingering. Numbing fingers folded the skin and bone and tied it into her pack. She pulled back on her thick gloves, unsatisfied with her search, but forced herself to lope up back to the surface.

~*~
A week later
~*~
New Delhi teemed. Rickshaws and cars warred on the congested streets, the fumes sticking in her throat. A cacophony of scent assaulted her, enlivening her senses into a frenzy. Someone yelled as she wove a path through the traffic. A vehicle almost brushed her nose, but her gaze drew fixed ahead. A small crowd gathered about the news holo on the street corner, and Tenzin eased herself amongst them to watch. A great arch dominated the feed, flowing molten from the earth. The Ascendancy's severe face interspersed the commentary. Magic is real, read the ticker at the bottom of the screen. Whispers around her echoed her own slack-jawed shock.

But it didn't end there. BREAKING flashed a violent streak above the newest headlines; a burned body being loaded into the back of an ambulance, the Kremlin a glittering backdrop. An horrific still of the face. Tenzin blinked, dry-mouthed, through the press release that followed. A dark-haired Russian who spoke sombrely of a foiled nuclear attack. Her skin shivered as she pushed herself back and away from the press of people, heart rattling in the cage of her chest. Because among the bulletin images had been one she recognised. The serpent biting its own tail.