Cross Effects > Cross Effects 3.0-It was good while it lasted

Cross Effects 3.0 - November 16, 2014—April 13, 2015

(1/500) > >>

Elf:
Nexus City.  A vile cesspool filled with villains and evil monsters that preyed upon the innocent.  It was a pocket dimension of sorts, and its inhabitants were creatures and nightmares that should have never met.  Nexus City had her own whims and had no qualms about stealing others from their homes to her strange lands with no chance to return.

Despite being filled with the stuff of nightmares, life still found a way here.  In fact it thrived in a sort of self-sustained ecosystem of sorts.  Nexus City provided for her inhabitants and it wasn’t divined why. 

Life, as one cynical chaos theorist once said, finds away.

******
It’s going to snow.

Forest could smell the light, crisp scent of a coming snow storm on the air.  The chill breeze toyed with strands of blond that had escaped her braid.  She could feel it knife through her leather duster and cut into her.  It was both painful and numbing at the same time, but feeling was getting increasingly more difficult for the vampire.

Last night she had paid to feed off a local prostitute, offering her enough money where she wouldn’t have to earn her living on her back for the rest of the week.  She had then given the girl the impulse to visit a local clinic while she had her fangs imbedded into the prostitute’s wrist.  Forest had then made a visit to the girl’s abusive pimp to make sure he would never raise his hand to a girl like that again.

However, when she’d been feeding, Forest found that the girl’s blood tasted like ash upon her tongue.  The warmth she used to feel when she had fed was fleeting, and it wasn’t the girl’s fault.  Luckily the girl really didn’t have any illnesses that would have tainted the taste of her blood.  No, Forest expected it was something else.

She knew she was going through the motions.  Her phone chimed Queen’s “Killer Queen” for the fifth time that night.  Sighing, she pulled out the smart phone and checked the latest text message the former King Arthur Had given her. 

I am concerned.  Please reply to this message as soon as you are able.  I would like to dine with you tonight.  I am working and Lancelot refuses to leave the apartment.  – Saber

Forest sighed and resisted the urge to rub her forehead.  Tiny girl with the glowing sword is bloody persistent, she thought.  Saber had been her latest “rescue” in this place, even though Saber really didn’t need rescuing.  More like Saber needs a sodding caretaker, the vampire known as Law Unto Herself thought as she typed in a return message.

Maybe later.  Patrolling right now.  Check back in 1 hr.

Then she hit Send before a sound caught her attention.

******
Saber was surrounded by flashing blue and red lights and people in either dark, crisp uniforms and heavy clothing.  The chill air cut through her car length-leather coat, but her internal furnace helped warm her if she focused on it ever so slightly.  In return her stomach rumbled slightly in protest as she approached the parameter that had been created before her arrival.

Excalibur was strapped onto her back, ready for her to pull at a moment’s notice.  Strands of her golden hair blew against her face as she approached.  One of the “Black and Whites” stood to attention and said, “Saber, good, we’ve got a body.”

“Was the death supernatural or mundane means?” she asked before the band known as Iron Maiden chimed from her back pocket.  Forest had chosen her own ring tone when she had programmed Saber’s phone for her, something melodical and fast and slightly ridiculous.  As the officer walked her to the body, Saber pulled the phone out of her pocket and swiped the screen as she had been taught.

There was one message waiting from her from Forest: Personal Advisor.

Maybe later.  Patrolling right now.  Check back in 1 hr.

Saber frowned at the response, but began to focus on the task at hand.  She said, “I would like to know what has been found.”

Knick:
Crest

He was falling, but there was nothing around him. It felt almost as if he was sinking into a pool of mud. And then he fell out and landed, back first, on the mossy ground.

“Ughhh, what did that bastard do to me?” Crest groaned out as he slowly tried to stand up. The moss was slick and he almost slipped a couple of times as he readjusted his bearings.

He kept his hand to his head, as he desperately tried to stop the world from spinning. He looked around and idly noticed his bow and arrows were still all intact, that was a good thing at least.

“An overgrown cave…?” He wondered aloud, stone, or what looked like stone, walls on all sides, with moss growing on nearly every surface. Then he spotted an opening, it was unnaturally square.

Slowly walking up to it, his sense of balance back to normal, he peered out the opening.

“What in that name of…” He trailed off. How could he not. There was a wide gap, but across from him was a row of spires, covered in moss and vegetation. On the ground he could see a modestly sized grazing beast. A type of dear it seemed like, although its antlers where wickedly sharp and its fur had odd glowing patterns on it.

He smirked as he notched an arrow, “Well, I was hungry anyway” and with that the arrow flew true, striking the best though the brain.

But instead of falling it simply turned its head and looked at him.

Crest stared, “Well, that can’t be go-“Without warning the beast sparked red, and with a great roar fired an orb of some kind, rushing towards Crest. In panic he grabbed his grappling hook, latched it to the side of the opening, and dived out and to the side. He had feeling that he did not want to be near that orb when it reached where he was.

His instinct was proven right as the orb exploded, causing his hook to be dislodged. And without the force to keep him up he fell from high in the air onto his back. Luckily he was able to make sure not to fall on his bow.

Groaning he quickly got to his feet, just in time to dive to the side in a roll to avoid getting skewered by the Demonic Deer’s Antlers.

Clicking his tongue black smoke surrounded and entered his legs.

‘Rejection of Limits’

And with that he leapt away from the beast, with power and speed many times what he should be able. He landed some ways away, feeling his bones creek in protest at going beyond their limits. He notched another arrow as the deer began to charge at him, glowing with ominous light.

He smirked, 'Rejection of Matter’. Black smoke coated the arrow head as he aimed, and then he released.

The arrow flew and struck the beast. It made no mess this time, but rather a clean hole was carved through the beast’s body, right down the middle. Slightly behind it the arrow embedded itself into the ground.

And with that the beast fell over, dead.

Crest sighed as he moved over to his downed pray. The first thing he did when he reached it was lob its head off with his machete, could never be too sure after all. Then he went about retrieving his arrows and grappling hook.

Once everything was in order he examined the beast. He had never seen anything like it before. It was bizarre and capable of odd demon magics. 

He was about to start striping the corpse when he hear roaring, it sounded like the beast he just slayed, but a pack, or would the correct term be heard. Bah, he didn’t care, all he knew is that there was a large number of them heading his way. 

“Tsk, can’t catch a break, can I?” He said as he sprinted off in the opposite direction, vanishing into the foliage that was randomly scattered throughout the path. It was something he was definitely good at.

‘Rejection of Smell’, Black smoke softly clung to his body like a film.

And stacking the odds never hurt either.


The deeper Crest went into this odd forest the more he was confused. There were so many types of beasts here, the hunt would be amazing. But the odd part was that so many of them he could not recognize.

“Where the hell did he send me” He was still convinced it was that bastard “Saint’s” fault, his and his followers’.

But this was neither the time nor place to worry about that. He had to first find shelter, and a source of water. His canteen, despite being mostly filled, would only last for so long. And on top of that it was getting dark, just what he needed.

He looked around and something caught his eye. It was a brick building, finally something familiar. It was run down, overgrown, and obviously had better days. But even he could tell from the lack of animal tracks that nothing was living there.

Or at least if there was they were small enough to not leave tracks.

He smirked and moved towards the entrance. The door seemed to be mostly busted; it was easy to remove with a slight yank, carefully leaning it against the wall as to avoid making too much noise.

And with that he stepped inside. And he could not be more amazed. There was no floor, only the soil beneath him, plants grew wildly, giant vines and trees throughout the giant room. Bookshelves fill with old books could be seen everywhere. And he could even see multiple hallways going to different parts of the building, a testament to the size of this sanctuary.

Hell, there was not even a roof, well, other than the plant canopy. Talk about refreshing.

"Yeah, I think I will like it just fine here," he said as he leaned his bow and quiver near the entrance and walked to the center of the room, towards a large tree with a pile of books next to it.

Panda:
The frigid night air cut at Old Man Henderson, but the joint was warm. As such, the middle-aged man leaning back sitting up against a nearby wall found himself not even slightly bothered by chill, despite the fact that his Hawaiian print shirt wasn't buttoned up, with only a yellowed undershirt protecting him from the chill. Propped up next to him was his shotgun, which Henderson figured he might as well name, what with all the adventures he'd gone through with it.

"I mean, think about it, Rupert," he addresses the stuffed parrot on his shoulder, "Betty's been with us since 'Nam, and she's never let us down. Do you think Betty would work?" He turns to the shotgun, patting it on the buttstock. The shotgun doesn't reply, though the jostling of the shells remaining reminds Henderson of something important, "Ah, you're a bit hungry, aren't you? Rather daft of me," he proceeds to pick the shotgun up and load it, finding shells here and there in the pockets of his cargo shorts.

Inside the burning church across the block, another rafter crashes down, drawing Henderson's attention as he regards the bodies of the fleeing cultists forming a trail out of the church, "An' that darm'd cult didn' even have any o' me wee men. I checked this time, and so did you, right Rupes?"

Henderson sighs as he takes another hit from the joint, "Did I ever mention how great of a friend you are? I mean, anyone else would've asked for a hit, but you know how I love this stuff, ain't that right Charlie?" Henderson now addresses the gnome in the back of the nearby '92 Buick Century. When no reply comes, he sits up, using the Italian-made shotgun as a crutch as he looks into the back of his car.

Nothing.

The one lawn gnome he had managed to take with him after falling asleep with the very same joint he was smoking now.

"Where did ya..." Henderson trails off as he looks back at the burning church, which finally collapses as the fire takes its toll on the supports, then at the trail of bodies leading out to his Buick, "That darm'd yellow cult. It was a trick! There was tha' one Mormon I only tapped before he ran out, and he decided to take Charlie with 'im?!"

Henderson considers this for a moment, then realizes that he's gotten all the use out of this blunt that he can. Spitting the stub out, he grinds it down with his boot before putting Betty in the trunk, right next to 'Lurid Lucy,' climbing into his Buick, and peeling out, already hunting for that last cultist.

The Man With All The Cute Boats:
I have a deep, complicated understanding of the term "bad hair day". Not a day goes by without me stubbing my toe, banging my head on something, being too lazy to take a shower, having a shitty boss and shitty coworkers... every day is a bad hair day.

"Excuse me, sir?"

I looked up from my deep, complicated thoughts about a possible character's intro sequence and remembered I was in my underwear, in a police station.

"Oh, uh, yeah?" I replied, my boundless intellect swimming out of my words like a flock of geese.

"Like I was saying, you've been pulled in against your will, but we have no idea how to send you home. In the meantime, you can be given a place of residence as long as you make yourself useful to the community."

He handed me a couple pamphlets, one of them with a lot of dumb job offerings and another with various residences going for some kind of "lost puppy charity" kind of feel.

I was offended. Lost puppy? I am a bucking stallion, proud and free on the plains.

"Life here is like life in any other city. You might be surrounded by crazy shit, but you have laws to follow, and so do they. Either one of you breaks it, and we'll have cops busting down your ass and bringing you to jail."

"Okay, that's um, that's great and all, but... can I have some pants?" I interjected uncomfortably. I was in my underwear, and even then in the middle of fapping before I got brought to this weird town. Point being, I didn't smell good, and pants would at least be a wall between my smelly crotch and the outside world.

Shirts could go fuck themselves.

He nodded with some minor irritation and got up, giving me a "stay here" kind of look. I sat back on my chair, looking up at the ceiling and away from my lucky four-leaf clover boxers.

About half an hour ago, I was randomly in the street in my underwear, with nothing with me except Son of Rustbucket, my glorious steed, a trek mountain bike that replaced my old trek mountain bike, Rustbucket.

Mind you I wasn't fapping while sitting on my bike, so that makes no sense at all.

Anyway I was very kindly brought in by the police, and was being explained just what the fuck's up.

Nexus city, vampires and assorted monsters, blah blah.

Police officer came back with some old jeans, perfect. I tried them on, and they were tight, but not too tight. He'd also come back with some sneakers a size too large and a big dumb shirt with some anime bitch on there. Sailor jupiter, I think? The green one. I begrudgingly equipped the shirt to properly fit social norms, and the dude started talking again.

Blah blah have you looked at the pamphlet blah blah.

"Yes, I have looked at the pamphlet! It's marvelous. I'm going to go to these places right now. Do you know if there's an MMA gym nearby?" I asked subtly, as to not tip him off that I was totally going to stall finding a really fucking boring place to work as long as possible. I was a true veteran of sleeping out in the open, thanks to my many nights of alcohol. I'd find a park.

"Uh..." the cop looked at me with disbelief for a second, until he sorted through his desk, found a piece of paper and handed it to me after writing an address. "Here. Your bike is out by parking lot. The key was in the lock, so we locked it to the fence."

He handed me my key, and I nodded in thanks. Thankfully. Thank you, police officer whatsyourface. I will never forget you, until I take my next shower.

I left the building, my feet bouncing around the gargantuan shoes he'd given me, and went to the parking lot and gotten my bike unlocked. I looked at the address for a second, and I realized something deep, important and unparalleled about the intricate mystery surrounding this city.

"I have no idea how to get to this street."

Knick:
Rebeca

Outside of a small café Rebeca sat, quietly drinking her warm coffee, trying her hardest to shut out the voices.

‘Should we go see a movie?’

‘Hey, isn’t that girl kinda hot?’

‘This guy should stop ordering snacks, it can’t be healthy.’

‘Where the fuck is he, he said he would be here by now. Bastard better not have stood me up.’

This was simply a small sample. Endlessly these voices thumped in Rebeca’s head, only slightly drowned up by the music playing on her head phones. Their personal thoughts, their feelings, and their intensions, they endlessly echoed in her head.

If she did not experience it all her life she had no doubt she would have gone crazy.

“Why did I decide to go out…?” She mumbled to herself as she slightly increased the volume on her music, hoping to drown out just a few more voices.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page