This is a link to cool fan-art map of the Age of Legends. I am really intrigued. Could we use this for the basis of anything? Loose inspiration?

https://www.deviantart.com/kemonokage/ar...-714338566

So Nox sent out a bunch of texts and I don't want to make alot of tags in the thread so I'm gonna do it in one big thread and invite everyone with a free PC if you want to meet the other PCs.  He sent it out to all his friends.

It would be a couple days after Nox and Jay fought (for those with timelines that matter)

Nox is putting on a show (his second).  I'll start a thread in a few days and post it in here.  But anyone is welcome to join in. Mix and mingle!

*edited* Post -> https://thefirstage.org/forums/thread-1433.html

[[ continued from url ]]

The tears ended. No one came near him or interrupted him. He left the club without saying anything to anyone.

The train station where he kept Lily wasn’t far away and grabbed his small back and the Lotus and slipped into the tunnels to find a dark place to curl up and die.

He didn’t go far, he needed signal. His face was on fire. His body numb from everything else. If he thought about it too hard the horde rose up and filled the pain with the need for more. He wanted to feel numb.

Nox needed to hear Raffe’s voice even if he wasn’t speaking to him. But he didn’t dare call. Nox walked into the emptiness of the tunnels. Water dripping in the distance. No scratching to be heard.

He found a cranny in the wall and wove a ball of light and let it shine down on Lily. She’d need a good walk for real light, but it would do for now. He unrolled his bedroll and curled up in it and started typing a string of texts to Raffe (@"Raffe")

I know I said space and time.
Full disclosure.
I ran into Jay at the Almaz.
We fought — literally. It ended badly.
I’ll tell you about it all if we get through this.

Nox sighed and sent a final text.

Lily misses you.


He set the wallet down and tried to sleep.  His nightmares awaited.

Moscow twinkled like a fat diamond in a jewellery box.

Visha was dressed as dark as the night sky, from the tips of her boots to the high collar about her throat. Gloves smoothed her from hands to elbow, the palms and fingers embedded with haptics. She had always been particularly sensitive to touch, and had never enjoyed the obstruction. As a child she had often complained it felt like being blindfolded, much to the bemusement of her minders. At least until her tantrums solved the issue with a gift-wrapped solution. In those days her tears had been more dangerous than her touch. These days it was all one and the same.

The cityscape was a delectable playground. Mostly she avoided the streets and people with a predator’s dedication to invisibility, testing the limits of instincts and abilities she didn’t even understand she had. The burning pump of muscles, her racing heart, the coil and leap that felt like flying. She climbed with unusual ease. Spooled into shadows like she’d been born in them.

Tonight her path took her to the street of a lavish storefront. Her favourite one. Silk and velvet and cashmere draped the elegant mannequins in front. She’d been here before. Several times actually, though she kept her visits spaced apart. She was fairly certain Ephraim would clean up any necessary messes, though she would rather he and Paragon remained ignorant to her night-time escapades for as long as possible. The freedom made her dizzy and euphoric and she didn’t want to lose it.

Visha scaled the wall with ease to wait, tucked her legs in close, and found a perch to peer down from. She knew the security routines by rote by now.

Raffe’s stories buzzed around in her mind. She watched intently, rested her chin in her arms, and smiled.

When the last employee left, Visha dropped down silently.

[[This thread is open. She will be stealing some new threads and heading to Kallisti. After that I plan to cause this news headline (doesn't matter which club she ends up at)]]

Patient Record: VIṢAKANYĀ

Medical History: [REDACTED]

DNA Profile: [REDACTED]

Additional Notes: EXERCISE CAUTION. NITRILE GLOVES AND FACE SHIELD RECOMMENDED. ANITVENOM REFERENCE 2291981.

Last night several ambulances were reportedly called to a downtown Moscow club following reports of mass hysteria. Fifteen people were taken to hospital, with one in critical condition. Custody police suspect involvement of the illegal drug ‘P’ which is known to invoke a dangerous hallucinatory state in users. No drugs were found on the scene.

The club remains closed pending further investigation.

[[ @"Elyse" you can jump in here for the interview ]]

Sterling hadn't been to school in three days. The first two days she spent wandering the streets looking for ways to learn how to use this gift she didn't know much about.  Today she was tired of trying to find a better way to do it and headed back to Kallisti. Her parents were already pissed she was missing school.  So it wasn't going to make things any worse.  What were they going to do?  Stay home and make sure she didn't leave?  Take her to school and watch her the whole time?  They both had lives and neither of them really cared anyway.  Her brother was all in and they had diverted their attentions to him -- the good kid now.  Sterling rolled her eyes.

Raisa was pissed too -- Sterling hadn't invited her on her outings, and she wasn't about to take her down here and meet her cousin.  She'd fawn all over him and embarrass her even more than she already did.  Raisa was so into hot boys... Too bad Nox liked boys too and had his own boyfriend.  They were cute, but Sterling was hardly interested her cousin's love life.  She wanted to learn to make illusions and bend fire like Juls did.  Or even half of what she'd seen Nox doing.  He was amazing in comparison.  But he couldn't teach her no matter how hard she tried.  He didn't even try though which pissed her off more than anything.

Sterling slipped down the alley and into the side door.  

The moment she was inside Juls was standing there hands on her hips and tapping her foot like she was her mama. "Why aren't you in school?"

Sterling grinned, "I can't think so why should I be? I'll die if I don't get this mastered."

Juls rolled her eyes. "You aren't going to die. You know how to do the basics."

Sterling giggled. "But I will."  She started gagging and holding her throat.  "See."

Juls sighed. "Be glad Nox isn't here.  He'd march you back to school and tell your parents."

Sterling shook her head. "No he wouldn't.  He'd make me in enroll in some stupid online school and make me do work before I can touch the power.  You won't tell him I'm here will you?"

"We'll see." Juls said. "Come one, you can watch while I practice and then maybe after the interview is done you can get up there and try."

"Oh. Thank you." Sterling said following Juls into the lounge area where the rest of the girls waited with smiles and waves and a hug from Mae.

He’d finally returned to Kallisti to shower and change his clothes. The hot water soothed his muscles, which seemed to have been aching for days now, but any relief he felt was utterly transient. His head still felt like cotton clouds. The dull ache in his chest was also unchanged, but he refused to dwell. Tears pricked his eyes every time he did, burning until everything blurred, but under the deluge of cascading water they never fell. Carmen had caught him on the way out of the club, hair curling gold about his ears, skin still damp under the shirt he dragged on. Something about a new girl and a message she’d received from Nox. But as soon as she saw the tight lines of his face she frowned and let him go. Usually Raffe would have soothed her concern, but today he just wanted out. Emotion swamped him the moment her fingers relaxed away from his tense arm, threatening to drown him. Even her expression was too much to weather. As he burst out the door he heard the muffled call of his name from behind. Raffe didn’t stop.

Kallisti and the girls would find out eventually.  But it didn’t have to be today. It didn’t have to be now.

His travels took him to an unfamiliar part of the city. Sweeping skyscrapers and grand, luxuriously fronted buildings towered like he’d stumbled into a city of the gods. Even the pavements were wider and cleaner. When Raffe reached his destination he paused, wondering if they’d throw him out before he’d fully passed the threshold. His jacket was shabby. An old wool scarf wound about the scar on his neck. He didn’t look anything like the few pedestrians passing on the street.

He ran his fingers over the edges of the appointment card Ekeziel had given him for a long while before he headed up the manicured walkways that led to the impressive glass-fronted building. It felt blindingly clean inside, all sinuous modern lines and highly polished white details. The company’s logo and slogan revolved everywhere like a glossy promise: PARAGON: Build a Better You. Raffe’s gut clenched for how out of place he felt. No wonder they called Ekeziel the Angel of the Undercity. How on earth did he have contacts like this?

There was a holobank offering tours of tech and services, but a living breathing person behind a pristine, chest-height desk. Raffe stuck his hands in his pockets, afraid to touch anything. On his way to the desk he passed an artificial hand sat in a glass case, sleek and futuristic. The plaque said something about Africa.

It only reminded him of Nox, and he blinked away, jaw hard.

The receptionist gave him an appraising but not entirely unkind look, like he might be lost. As soon as he gave his name, though, her demeanour changed. She smiled warmly. “Ah, Mr. Janssen, please come this way. Welcome to Paragon.”

[[I have updated the wiki to include some more info on the building, and will probably update further as the story progresses. Paragon's page can be found here]]

Adrian’s office was lit by morning sun. His empire operated within these floors. An umbrella organization that covered the many smaller hubs of his businesses. Adrian knuckled his shoulder after he shrugged from an overcoat. Arm and shoulder day hit harder this morning, but the soreness was a welcome sign of growth. It made him feel alive.

His usual protein shake waited on his desk. He downed it greedily, eager to get about his day when the ding of an upcoming appointment drew his attention to the time.

He was dressed professionally. A crisp white collared shirt was decorated with green-flecked tie and a black blazer. The gray of his eyes were bright. His hair flowing from his brow in perfect waves. In the few additional minutes that remained, he studied the open files on the myriad screens. A picture of the woman that was slated to get his attention hovered near. She was Latina, with cinnamon brown skin and dark chocolate hair. Her gaze was seductive, her poise precise. A former model, the file read. Though she was many years past the fame of her youth. She’d mothered a child since then. Deceased. And became a widow. The queen of a fallen empire, Adrian shook his head as he swiped through the images of destruction that followed.

All such research was powered down by the time she was shown in. She wore a black dress that accentuated the width of abundant hips. The bustline was modesty befitting a widow in mourning, but the curves were apparent in the designer label. Expensive earrings decorated her face, although Adrian noted the lack of a matching necklace. She had to be low on funds, and a message from a certain consultant informed him of the sale of a recent set of jewels.  No doubt they helped fund this trip to Moscow.

“Señor Kane,” she said in English. Her accent was heavy, her voice musky and seductive.

Adrian stood, rounding the desk to greet her with a shake of the hand. She still wore her wedding ring. Not so desperate enough to sell it yet. So she had money and the connections to broker his time. Though, to be honest, Adrian was quite intrigued by her request.

“Mrs. Amengual,” he replied and stepped back to offer her a seat.

“Please. Call me Yasmine,” she said.

"I am sorry for your recent losses," he responded. Her eyes tightened at that. Perhaps not expecting him to open with the obvious.

She was strong, he realized. Without a flicker of pain to mar that porcelain face, she explained her situation. "My husband murdered. My child murdered. My home ripped apart. My husband's legacy gone in hours. Loss is not a powerful enough word to describe what I have endured, Señor. Kane."

He accepted the correction without comment, unsurprised to hear anger in her tone rather than grief.

"So what can I do for you?"he asked. His sources told him she had come to Moscow the week before asking for another man entirely. One that went unseen for months. Adrian had never met Ryker, though their exchanges were frequent. Even a mediator between cartels and the Yakuza needed a mediator. Someone to move shipments and smuggle weapons, drugs, humans, and every other kind of illicit trade. Such big machinery of organized crime always required grunts. And grunts for hire, trucks, forklifts, pallets, storage facilities. Adrian controlled those. He went on, the politeness from before fading to business at hand. "You have no shipments to move. No need of my services. So what could you want?" 

She nodded, sitting taller in the chair. The stem of her legs crossed, flashing him with the line of feminine muscle contained in her exquisite heels. A woman of fallen power, indeed, but Adrian wasn't a narco-baron like she was accustomed to manipulating. When the moment passed without reaction, she spoke plainly. 

"I want revenge," she said. 

Adrian nodded. "There we go," he said, his interest genuine, but not in helping her. "Of course you do," he added, but with a sigh, he continued. "But I am uninterested in giving it to you. What else do you want?" 

"I can make you rich," she said.
"I'm already rich."
"I can do things you can't imagine."
"I think you are a small fish in a big pond, Yasmine. This is Moscow. You are dancing with the big devils now."

She tensed at that, but when she laid a device on the desk, and powered up a hologram, Adrian's attention was successfully captured.

"What is it?" he asked. 

"It's called the oculus. There are only a few of them made, part of my late husband's legacy," she said with no small measure of pride. It was only a hologram, but Adrian turned the projection about, studying it. "But that's not what I am offering," she swiped the projection to the next one in the cue. A stick and ball image illuminated her face. A chemical structure that Adrian was clueless to interpret. "That's the chemical composition of a very special serum that the Oculus can deploy to anyone who wears it."

"A drug?" he said, studying her. He wasn't in the drug dealing trade. 

"Muy especial. A very special drug," she smiled. What she explained next was unfathomable. She brought the offering to the right altar, he decided when he learned what it did. A light shone his eyes to silver. This combined with the newest venture with Natalie was breaking him into the channeler business. A very special drug indeed. 

The future.

"You have possession of both?"
"Perhaps. You will be to discuss my revenge now?" 
"I'm listening."
"The man who took everything from us. I want his head in my Birkin," she toed the bag on the floor. Violent. Adrian should not have been surprised. The wife of one of the world's worst drug lords. The rumors said they were legitimately in love. A bullshit emotion that drove people to incredibly bad decisions that Adrian was happy to profit from.
"Done. Who?"

The next hologram she produced was a face that Adrian recognized well. He was probably somewhere in the very building. Yasmine had no idea how close she was to her goal.

His frown was thoughtful as he scrubbed his chin before he could catch himself. He did not respond right away.