Hello Everyone, I own Nothing so you cannot sue me. Except for my OC's.
Writer's Corner: Alright everyone I'm back, I offer no excuse and no explanation, I expect you fine ladies and gentlemen to read and review. I do not expect any flames. I will expect any and all constructive criticism of any kind and will see if any of them will fit in the end. If you have any ides please feel free to tell them to me. And one last note for all those that thought I was dead, well it was a pretty close call in the long run. Anyway, I'd like to say welcome one and all and please enjoy my works once more.
They first started in Galeesi Ward, the real slums of the Citadel. Packed with all the unmentionables that the glorious ruin did not want others to see. In truth they only stayed there to get their bearings. It wasn't like they enjoyed the smell of the, literally, unwashed masses. Still a few unpaid assassinations against local gangs, a few minor thefts and a lot of visits to a few restricted areas allowed them to get all the information they needed. It was real easy too, though the Essence in this new reality was far scarcer it was also purer and without any of the corruption it would have had if it were in Creation.
Afterwards they got out of the Galeesi Wards and made their new homes between the docking stations, Warehouse District and the Market Areas. It was the best place for them in truth, slowly but surely they introduced their falsified identities so to lessen the impact of their existence. Also He bound the overwhelming power they possessed to make sure that they did not draw attention, after all a reformed ex-Demon, A Terrestrial and Primordial Hybrid and the Equivalent of a walking Holocaust was not a good way to stay below the radar. Queen Mae was different situation entirely, but suffice to say her existence has become both convenient and annoying for all involved, except for her own self of course.
He, the Primal Exalt, was Alexander Ascalon. A good name, both as a way to feed his pride and a way to stay it as well. It denotes both importance, and uniqueness yet still insuring that there was still humility, a dichotomy if there ever was one. Alexander, the "protector of Man" and Ascalon, the Holy Sword that slayed the Dragon. This was what he was and for now he was to lay low and gather Intel. The mere fact that he was living a quite life right in the middle of the busy streets, also under the nose of Citadel Security, was an endless source of amusement and pride he could not pass up on. Hence the reason he runs a pawn shop, Alexander's Antiquities, to be his front for his more secretive agenda. Now if only his roommates would be more discreet with their own identities.
"Mornin' Pops!"
Ah, and there it goes.
The two new souls had just descended from their modest two-story apartment they shared and have begun their day. And yes they indeed bought two floors for their convenience, properly paid of course, but Alexander used his Charms so that no one would ask too many questions. As for the funds, well, lets just say that the Ghalen Wards, their current location, has miraculously been free of gangs since their coming.
The first down was Sore, the Flawless Spark Beneath Ambition, who was now known as Sarah "the Shade" Monroe. This dusk skinned beauty was her new identity, carefully crafted by Alexander to hopefully allow her Primordial power and beauty to be suppressed to allow her a normal life. It failed most epically. Sarah was, as her original name suggested, was very ambitious. And knowing his aversion to doing anything "unjust" and her own desire to cause pain to others she did the only logically thing. She joined C-Sec, and how she took it by storm. Within three months she already rounded up a sizable amount of deeds under her belt. She was skyrocketing to the ranks and the only thing stopping her was Executor Saven and other conservative member on the Force. Her strict and sadistic outlook put her as a general amongst soldiers eagerly giving everyone around her a reason to fear and respect her, in equal measure. Her looks were also a mixed bag of blessing all things considered. With her dark skin, white hair, sharp violet eyes and militaristic attire she had the rewritten the book on "Femme Fatale". And then there was her body, and oh what a marvel it was. Alexander lamented at his gifts the day she returned while she trailed a "road" of broken hearts behind her. She had, as her colleagues would say, " Breasts that defy gravity, curves that left car crashes and legs that went for miles". True they might be exaggerating her D-Cups, her hips and legs, but damn it was all her fault for suggesting it. Lay low he said not sick out like a sore thumb, albeit a really attractive sore thumb. And she was the first of the headaches Alex had to endure.
"Hey Old Man, I'm meeting up with the girls today so don't wait up!"
And there was the other headache. If Sarah was the dark skinned beauty that epitomized the strength of a mature woman who has the confidence and will to shape the word around her than Parthena was the mirror opposite of her. Parthena, or as she is now called, Priscilla Monroe was the living embodiment of the original "American Wet Dream". She took the concept of the girl next door, beat the shit out of her and made the girl her own personal bitch, figuratively speaking of course. In truth she redefined what it meant to be a "Blonde Bombshell", in fact if her attractiveness and exuberance was to be related to an explosion then she was a "Hiroshima and Nagasaki" waiting to happen. Though shorter in stature then her dusk skinned counterpart, Priscilla made it up in two of her three sizes; three guesses what they are and the first two don't count. But that was only half the headache, she like Sarah also trailed broken hearts, but hers was in a more different fashion. She took the whole ditsy outlook and rewrote it entire concept to fit her own existence. In other words, she walked like a blonde, talked like a blonde and acted like a blonde. But that was as far as the stereotyped went. As the "Ultimate Betrayal" of the Ebon Dragon instead of hiding in the dark she flourished in the light, she was the center of attention and worked tirelessly to get there. She was smart, oh how she was smart, a rapier wit match only by razor edge tongue. She was strong, anyone being less of "gentlemen" around her and her own faced the wrath of an awakening dragon. But most importantly of all, she was loved. Which was really bad in hindsight. This love came in many forms, her gentle nature attracted admirers, her beauty attracted suitors and her mindset attracted followers. Yes this was truly a bad idea and considering Priscilla did not have the heart to heart others like her counterpart she was more or less stuck with all three, to the eternal frustration of Alexander. And of course what made that even worse was Priscilla's current occupation. She was an acolyte to the Asari Consort, and though the Consort never forced Priscilla on anything she did not enjoy the mere fact she worked for her led Alexander to take up the chronic need to enforce a concussion upon himself whenever she drew unwanted attention.
"You two be safe, and make sure to call if plans change for any reason." Alexander called back as Priscilla skipped out of the door, while Sarah glided out. Huh, sometimes it wasn't worth being this concern over others.
Then there was Alexander himself unlike his two "Daughters" who garbed in beauty and magnificence he wrought a different disguise all together. Using his charms he invoked a powerful glamour that cloaked him under old age. With stark greying hair, balding head, and gnarled skin he was the perfect representation of Exaltation. Quiet, unassuming and deceptively dangerous. Though his skin gnarled and his form feeble, it was all just a glamour to hide his prowess. Though he bound his power to mortal coils he was still a man who has achieved the very peak of human limits regardless of out ward appearance. He was the venerable old grandfather that looked after a small antique shop, who in secret could outmuscle a krogan, out wit a salarian and out debate an asari. Still if it wasn't for a certain someone, he would say the to girl's absence would be considered a peaceful break in a rather hectic life."
"OOH, those two seem to be energized today, love. Do you think they'll have some of it left for our little play date later tonight?"
And there goes the rest of his infinitesimally small sanity. That voice that resounded within his mind was that of the last Fae, the "Thrice Bound Queen", Mae of the Three Collars. Or at least what was left of her.
As a Fae their true form would be of that of the Formless Chaos. But with the Miasma of the Neverborn and the Corruption of Yozi the rules of the Wylds seen began to take the impossibility of uniformity. As such those that within the outskirts of the Wyld were trapped in Creation, given form while those beyond suffered non-existence of the Neverborn. Those that took form were quickly killed or corrupted. But Mae was different. A Fae of supremely Gifted Foresight she knew of the inevitability of her people, so instead of salvation she sought vengeance instead. And through that road she found her salvation in turn, in the most ironic of fashions. When she bound herself to Alexander all those years in the Wyld she took within herself the "Concept of Servitude", when she bound herself again to his will during the Games of Divinity she gained the "Concept Passion" and finally when she saw world fade away and realized nothing was left of her or her people she turned to him one last time, at least in the physical sense. When she bound herself a third time to his Essence she acquired the "Concept of Loyalty". Now her state was what she desired the most. When her body deteriorated she emboldened by her three "Concepts" became a formless entity bound to will and Essence of Alexander. Her will chained to him, as are her Concepts, she exists only for him and can only materialize when she represents all three of those concepts. Usually when the four of them retire for the night and when Alexander drops his glamor; on a side note there are many interesting things she can do with a formless body and many of them are quiet entertaining. However, just like all things she also bequeaths to him a headache, and worst still she is always with him, so such a travesty is constant.
"Is something wrong love? Do you want me to do that thing you like with my mouth?"
Yes, Alexander was an arrogant ass, who enjoyed seeing, those who thought themselves better than others, serve beneath him. This however was not how he intended for this scenario to play out. There was a time and place for all things and now was not the time for a hauntingly beautiful body to materialize before him and have said body beginning ministration to his needs. It just wasn't decent and what if a customer walked in on them? He would be forced to use his Charms. And covering up his debauchery with a Fae Queen was a gross misuse of Exalted Powers. But, oh, the temptation was just as bad as the actual act itself.
But then his mind wandered back to his old Patrons. With that the heat in his loins died down. So much has changed, so much was lost. His mind cycled through his "Infinite Armory", his own personal sub-dimension bequeathed to him by the Maiden of Secrets. Within the confines of this realm lay the entire weapon and arms he had ever acquired some were even weapons of other Gods and Exalts he had managed to preserve, others were those he had forged himself when he still allowed his abilities to manifest more freely. But deep within the glorious depths laid the Incarnae Celestia, weapons and Armor wrought specifically for Ignis Divine, Luna and the Maidens of Fate themselves. How he hated and loved these expressions that manifested as weapons. Given to him to preserve what little legacy was left, these artifacts of great power were a symbol depicting glories of ancient pasts and the badge of shame and impotence at his failure at preserving their original owners. And with that silent lament, he reaffirmed his purpose. He would protect all that was left and make sure that none would harm his or his own, he not would let shame stain his existence for a second time.
(Line Break)
"This is unacceptable!" roared Executor Saven, his soft-spoken Turian tailored uniform flared in activity. "It has been eleven months! Damn near an entire year since this spirit cursed beast has been running around my jurisdiction and best we have is pile of mangled bodies, over three dozen trauma patients and a serial killer who believes himself to be three year human girl named the "Pretty Pink Pony Princess"!". He gave a momentary pause before continuing his tirade within the small space in C-Sec. "Gentlemen and Ladies… if this goes further south we'll be hitting the bad side of Omega by years end! Somebody better give me something or I'll …"
"Chief I got something!" and thus came out a human male bursting into the officers room. He had a blue uniform of C-Sec and was waving around his Omni-tool in his hand. "We finally got something Chief, a bystander managed to capture some vid recording near the warehouse."
"Warehouse? Which one Higgins?" asked Saven.
"Warehouse number 214, sir. The one where.."
"We found the Gunnar Brothers…" finished Saven. "Alright, what are you waiting for an invitation? Show us what you got and I wont give you latrine duty for a month!" apparently Saven was at his patience end.
The following Vid-Pics that was shown through a projector by the Officer Higgins' omni-tool. Revealed at last, a face to thecrime. Or at least that was what they thought. Apperantly, if one was able to properly focus they could make out a rather large and lean figure right on top of some boxes and crates that wereset on the warehouse. The figure was covered in fur and somhow glowing archaic silver tatooes were branded on his skin, curving and coursing as if they had a life of its own. It walked on two legs, inverted like a Quarian or a Turian. But, it posed four arms each one bearing dark menacing hands with a full array of claws, nay talons. It had a distinct face, also covered in fur and an elongated snout. But its prime feature were its eyes, glowing in the dark. At gazed at the recorder and everyone in the room attempted to halt the surprise and gasp in their breath, some did not succeed. Those golden eyes, piercing them all as if the recording was still live, and penetrating each officer with a stare the was freezing their hearts.
And then it howled. A noise that reverberated in the echelons of their minds, penetrating the deepest part of their psyche. All the officers watching felt their hairs stand on end. The howl tore at their minds, like some wild primordial force bringing back their ancestors blatant fear over that which they did not understand, darkness, death, despair. The howl tore through the air, tore through the room, with enough force to send the person holding the vid tumbling and ending the shot.
There was a pause in the whole room that gathered the officers of C-Sec, a room filled withtheir finest men and woman of the uniform. All were silent and contemplating, or at least more scared witless then contemplating in truth.
"What the hell was that Higgins?" Saven was breathless and his face became a pallor shade, for Turian anyway.
"That Chief is our main suspect…" Higgins was just as quiet and just as pale. And then the eruptive, cacophony of voices erupted from the room. All were in a frenzy, some denyiong., some excited, nearly all were scared and everyone had different set of plans for the next possible course of action. However, only one had enough sense of mind to make any decision or thought that was surprisingly devoid of fear.
In the back of the room one woman stood calmly watching the others tear into each other, as naked fear consumed them. Her own thoughts revolved more around disbelief tan anything.
"That smarmy, son of a… how dare he cause so much chaos without me!"
And so Sarah "the Shade" Monroe, acquired a new target and apparently one she was familiar with. As she exited the room with a stone faced façade she was unable to catch a glimpse of single Turian with a targeting piece on one of his eyes. Had her mind been less dominated by indignation and anger at the loss of a the chance to use her powers she would have seen Garrus Vakarian, giving a her a rather curious look.
