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ZeekHarbinger: He stood shrouded in a heavy fur cloak on the hill side, overlooking yet another drawn out battle between the nordic clans, fighting for dominance over the other, over lands and rights. The whole idea of these clans fighting they way they do was beginning to lead to a moot point, the more they battle the more they lost their numbers, on both sides, the less the numbers the more likely another clan would come in and wipe out both sides in one foul swoop, a main reason as to why Brandr was there in the first place. The ice cold air would whip past his exposed flesh along his death branded face, as his pitch black eyes scanned the bloody field of corpses, so many souls to claim, so many to be judged, such was the life. His eyes shifted to a scout he paid off climbing the hillside back up towards him, bloodied Brandr realized this one wasn't as good at his job of remaining unseen as he had claimed, humans, so unreliable. "Begge sider trekker seg tilbake, de blir lei av slaget denne dagen" (Both sides are retreating, they tire of the battle this day), Brandr nodded his head towards the male confirming and accepting the words before tossing a gold coin towards the male, "Tid for meg å gå på jobb" (Time for me to go to work), Brandr's voice was low as he spoke, remembering these beings weren't to know who or what he truly was, making his way down the hillside and across the bloodied field, he would start at one end and work his way across, slow steady steps as he repeated the same phrase over and over again, calling to every fallen soul, "Din tid er avsluttet, komme frem og la passere dom" (Your time has ended, come forth and let judgement pass), only a handful of the souls came to his hand directly, those whose judgement could not be passed within the realm, not before him alone. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as it would mean he would have to return to the realm where his kind resided, a realm with no time. After crossing the bloodied battle field he would stop and look back to see to ensure he had done his job unbiased of the realm or the people, something he struggled with himself before waving a hand towards the space just in front of him, opening a shadowy doorway into the unseen realm, he turned and walked through into the circular stone hall, records were kept along the walls ensuring all contracts were held accordingly, massive statues of Pures stood all around as reminders to ones such as himself, the renegades, ones who let vice influence their actions one way or another. He made his way towards the steps leading down into a vast pit and threw the few souls that he had collected down for their judgement, he was not one for formalities, but this was home. He stood at the rails as his blackened pools watched the souls "fight" their case as it were.

Anthropophagy: ~ Akoni, the eldest of the Pures, wandered through the labyrinthine halls contemplating the orders he’d been sent down from the high primordial. The Libra sighed in exasperation as he silently stepped through the immaculate marble passageway, attempting to decide how best to deal with the newest Glutton that had cropped up and made its home in the year 1936 A.D. It was always a shame to see his brethren fall to such unhealthy desires, forgetting their purpose entirely in an ecstatic rapture.that was losing one’s self to the emotions of the mortals they were tasked to collect. At a point Akoni and this very Glutton, Argento, had worked hand in hand. The work had always been admirable, even in comparison to the one they’d called the Blue Moon before his own fall to the corruption known as compassion. Argento had always been a bit of a loose cannon but never had they expected one of his caliber to fall so hard after being cast out. Many Libra who had gone Renegade were known to embrace their newfound emotional bonds but the rare Glutton always seemed to arise every one hundred years or so, threatening to offset the balance once more with their lust for mortal desires. Akoni eyed the contract he’d been handed down with a weary glance, his breathing inadvertently becoming more forced as he did so in reading about the exploits of one who at a point he’d viewed as a partner. “Argent, how could you?” Akoni muttered while reading the list of crimes against their kind the Glutton had committed. Murder, sexual deviance, torture; the fallen brother had indulged his pleasures fully with the grasp of one to whom it seemed second nature. Akoni brushed his fingers through his ash grey hair and pulled his gaze from the parchment. “I really didn’t want to have to do this.” He groaned while waving a hand lazily at the stone wall of the passage he’d been walking down. A gust of wind rushed out, sending the tails of Akoni’s pure white long coat fluttering in the gale as the massive slab of marble wrenching upward into the ceiling. Behind the slab sat a swirling blue hued vortex that reeled slowly counter-clockwise. The Pure’s ivory wings lashed out behind him in a flurry of feathers and the faintest hint of a chocolate scent as Akoni walked steadily through the gateway. Millenia passed around him, multiverses and afterlives skimming by in the blink of an eye but today the task at hand was far beyond his grasp, he would have to hunt down one of the few renegades still praised amongst their kind. The portal burst open in a flood of indigo light upon a circular courtroom that seemed an ethereal judgement hall made of charred volcanic stone and bedrock. Various forms of decor had been scattered about to give the court of the damned some form of regality in aesthetic but the choices of decoration were far from pleasant. Towering obsidian statues like executioners loomed overhead whilst the condemned sat nervously on pews made of petrified wood and seal leather. Across the cavernous dwelling stood two finely crafted oak French doors with stained glass windows designed to depict two balanced scales. From behind the thick wooden doors piped the dulcet tones of old timey swing music. The sound escaping from behind the doors brought a slight smile of nostalgia to Akoni’s face, remembering how fond Advocatus had become of the music and the enthusiasm with which he filled the halls of the collective with its haunting melodies. “Hello, Dolly. This is Louis, Dolly. It’s so nice to have you back where you belong.” The crooning tones of Louis Armstrong rang out from the office as the Pure heaved open the doors, the handles turning to platinum, to reveal the Blue Moon himself sitting at a finely carved mahogany desk laden with paperwork while he read an old leather-bound tome by the light of a small desk lamp. A small gramophone sat behind him letting forth the entrancing tones of the Renegade’s preferred taste in music with the needle running smoothly across an old dusty record. The scent of cloves and tobacco coiled around the air like a serpent between them from the burning black cigarette sitting in an antique glass ashtray. “The infamous Advocatus, pride of his kind, smoking and undoubtedly reading dirty magazines. Oh how the mighty have fallen.” Akoni teased lightly, catching Advocatus’ attention and pulling him from the book he’d been reading. “A collection from a mortal named Dante Alighieri actually, you’d be amazed what these mortals believe occurs in the afterlife. I’d only made it through Inferno upon your arrival so with my light reading over I’m assuming a Pure like yourself has some form of favor to ask of me.” Advocatus stated plainly with no hint of humor in his voice while sharply snapping his book shut. Ad picked up the burning cigarette and took an absent drag, the stylized black paper of the coffin nail burning away before Advocatus pulled it from his marred lips. The Renegade eyed the Pure with a scrutinizing gaze and exhaled the sweet smelling cloud of smoke directly at him, obviously not impressed. Akoni coughed a bit, it had been quite some time since they’d seen each other and even fallen Ad had not lost his sense of business, that tactical manner in which he spoke. The pure seemed a little disgruntled as he handed over the contract for Advocatus to look over. The stern expression of Ad’s skeletal features betrayed little emotion aside from a quick quirk of the eyebrow upon reading the name of the Glutton who the pure had asked him to deal with. “Argento really let himself go, didn’t he?” Ad remarked casually, his pitch black eyes never leaving the paper. As he finished reading Advocatus neatly folded the paperwork and put the creased sheet into the jacket pocket of his pinstriped suit. “I have no misconception about being able to deal with Argento on my own. I’ll be gathering help for this task, I expect this to reflect on their record, Akoni. When I return I’ll send message with proof of the Glutton’s being dealt with. Now, if you’d please, I’m a very busy man and haven’t the time for pleasantries.” The voice hadn’t changed in which he spoke but something about the way it was said seemed to pour over with dismissal. The pure nodded and stepped back out the door and into his portal, taking his leave as quickly as he’d come. “I just had to send Sigil on a job right before the Pure shows up. This will be interesting.” Advocatus mused then opened a drawer on his desk. The years had been kind to him as Ad had picked up a good number of tricks to aid in his duties without proper contracts. From the drawer he withdrew an ornate scrying glass, the surface of which rolled and bubbled like molten wax. Advocatus Pulled a glove from his thin fingers and slowly pulled the pad of his index finger down the murky glass. The scrying solution had been made to react with the effects of sanctimonium in which the glass would form only at his touch and was designed to locate those of his kind whether they be Glutton, Pure or Renegade. A vivid yellow dot floated up to the surface, revealing a nearby Renegade who would be capable of aiding him in this task, with a sharp whistle Advocatus summoned from his pocket a matte black fountain pen that jumped to a notepad and jotted down the first location of the potential aid. Not far from the yellow dot a small fiery red one sprang up with a vicious uprising that caused the mirror to nearly shake off the desk. “That is mahogany!” Advocatus gasped as he caught the glass and settled it back into place, slightly disgruntled already at the presence of the Glutton that had so rudely nearly ruined his desk. Another whistle sent the pen into a flurry with Advocatus slipping his glove back on then picking up the notebook with the locations of both. He’d have to work fast to avoid missing the Glutton before it popped up in a new locale, hopefully Argento did not realize yet that he was being hunted and would give a tiny fraction of leeway before being engaged. His meticulously tended to hair rustled uneasily as a poisonous green portal burst open in front of him between the double doors that enclosed his office. Ad flicked his cigarette through first, announcing his arrival so as not to completely alarm the other Renegade he’d be meeting first. A complete contrast to Akoni, Ad’s midnight black wings unfurled with the Renegade slipping through to find himself in an old mead hall. “What have I done…?” the Renegade shuddered at the sheer mess of the place with straw on the floor instead of plush carpeting and benches made of common lumber with little in the means of decoration at least to his tastes. Across the hall he saw a barbarous looking being who shared the mark of the Renegade dumping souls off as though they were trash. “I’m going to assume you’re the one I’m looking for.” Ad remarked just loud enough for the other Libra to hear him, “Introductions are in order; Advocatus.” The lean arm of the suited Libra extended in an offering to shake hands. This brother of the harvesters seemed to be a little rough around the edges but such a thing would be needed against one of the Old Pure. Unpredictability would be on their side. “I’ve a proposition if you’ll listen. There seems to be a Glutton making his way toward your territory. The clean ones sent me to find him. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours?” Ad explained calmly. With his free hand Advocatus checked his pocket watch that hung from his jacket. The ebony metal glinted dangerously in the torch light, a habit Ad had picked up when dealing with any others outside his domain.~

ZeekHarbinger: The gust of wind carried the scent of another Libra as he his gaze remained on the souls he just collected, a scent he had not yet come to know, but assumed it was the one who was always shut away with his office, he had heard tales of this Renegade as one not to be trifled with, especially when it came to his "collection", but he himself had yet to actually meet Advocatus in person. Hearing the first few words slip from the renegades mouth he turned his head to peer back at the man in his pinstriped attire and shook his head lightly at the sight of him, "Your rather fortunate there was no gathering of the towns people, you would have to answer to the Pures for such indiscretions..." The sight of this renegade only reminded him further just far he himself had fallen, but then again he was almost glad he chosen the solitude of this era. He turned his gaze completely from the souls pleading their innocense as it were and aproached the fire pit that sat between the two Libra, his pitch black eyes focused on Ad as he spoke of a Glutton nearing his territory, "You? Advocatus, the cleanest of all us renegades asking me, one of the lowest renegades, to scratch his back? I'm not sure if I should be insulted or complimented..." He peered down to the pocket watch Ad was checking curious as to how much time he actually had to decide before the Glutton would actually show, a forced decision, not something he was overly fond of by any means, With a sigh he pulled the fur cloak from his shouilders and threw it over the back of strongly carved wooden chair, the red runic branding lightly pulsing in the fires light, "Who is the unfortunate bastard to have fallen? And when is he to show?" with the cloak no longer holding back his own scent the smell of vanilla and anise would begin to fill the air around them, as he brought his hands forward and hooked his thumbs into the black leather belts around his waist, the dual ebony daggers barely noticeable across the small of his back, where as the many throwing knives were in plain view. The very sight of Brandr was rather fitting for his favored era of collection, just as he had become rather fond on the solitude it offered. The black hair pulled back neatly to keep it from his face was about the only tidy thing about himself, aside from the up keep of his weapons and armor.
SigilNightshadeSigilNightshade Whisper: Balance within the proximity of chaos, Dominion over the fates These were the main rolls of all libra's dispite the path that had chosen Pure or Renegade it mattered not the outcome only in which the outcome was decided. Tracking Ad though the time streams had taken some work but he was sometime in the time stream of BCE The winter's chill hit him as soon as the votexual transport had opened pinpointing the segment of time where Libra energy was the most concentrated while running the residual energy through diffuser he was able to create a companion orb that acted as a mystical location beacon. Stepping out into the snow covered tundra he was instantly inserted into the physical scope of reality at full height of 5'11 tall while weighing in at an athletic standing of build. Unseen black wings furled around his shoulders reflexively to fend off the wind.The elements had really no lasting effect due to his aura skill it was more so to conceal his location from prying eyes. As the turbulent winds picked up a Cloak of black fabric was seemingly produced from a stray fallen feather as the wind hurriedly wound the fabric around him Sigil would once more blend into the white out conditions. Having blocked the wind his {passive-Auraskill-Impending End-} Allows for a 10ft radius of direct willpower directed outward used to indirectly weaken the opposition or drive them away with minimal efforts}Sighing softly he would exhale the smoke from a cigar that had made it's way to his lips and with a snap of his fingers the watch would activate igniting his middle finger in the flames of condemnation an all mighty force use to harvest the strongest of souls was now reduced to a common inciderary device to set his smokeables aflame. With a casual rythmic flick of his wrist the flame was out as if the flames themselves had been blown out by the natural force of wind.(II) His eyes had begun to distance themselves from the reality behind his eyes as his minds eye would open overlaying the daylight with a almost ink like void mountains were shadowed in this falsetto darkness as he closed his fist and stepped from the ledge. Gravity took hold instantly pulling the form of sigil toward uncertain demise until the cloaking around his wings dropped and his 12ft wing expanse flapped him higher into the sky and toward the meeting area sailing in and out of stalagmite rock formations and even going as far as planting his feet and wall running over the ice surface he finally broke into a clearing to which the signatures were outlined in definitive colors of each of the present Libra.- (III) landing in a run he would turn sliding in reverse and in line perfectly with the others the nightshade smokeable still burning between his teeth as he casually brushed his hands through his hair giving the momentary fading appearance of a sinister mask the Alchemic seals for creation/Destruction momentarily becoming visible before he lowered his arms back down. There was word of a "Glutton" Floating around the Soul pool and he thought he would come first hand and take a peek like a nosey child on christmas morning he would notice the others and stride closer for a look.
~The blasphemous cold struck at his back before anything else, Advocatus shivered slightly before clicking the tiny red elemental stone on his watch. Around him burst out a wave of heat just enough to raise the temperature once more to acceptable levels. “Ah, right on time. It seems you have a rather confounding tact for finding me, Sigil.” Advocatus mentioned without turning then continued on to the task at hand, “It seems that our fallen brother, Argento has slipped farther than anticipated. The chain of command wishes him dealt with. I’ve already set the bargains in motion to have an attempt at redemption put in for any involved in taking him down.” The pocket watch ticked loudly in Ad’s hand with the bleak surroundings seemingly drowned out by the sound. The watch had activated the final moments, causing Advocatus’ own life to flash before his eyes in every possible multiversal outcome. Being a creature not inhibited by a start or end his memories flooded through as ones of duty, battles and bloodshed as well as simple old age or sickness. Through the onslaught one memory truly stood out and kept flashing before him, one he’d re-lived many times wondering to himself if he’d made the proper choice. Over the short lifespan of the mortals he’d saved Advocatus had visited them in secret, returning to moments before their times to go and watching over them like a guardian of sorts, constantly lurking in the corner of their lives with the scent of cloves and a comforting warmth following in his wake to comfort them. Though he questioned never once had he regretted his choice as he watched the baby girl grow to be a fine woman, to comfort her when her mother finally lost the time he’d granted her. This was the first time the watch had affected him like this only to have him snapped from the dream-like state by the sharp smell of sauerkraut and diesel fuel.”Seven hells….” Ad gasped as a towering figure that stood seven feet in height loomed like a shadow in the doorway. The figure had matted dreadlocks pulled tightly over his scalp in a ponytail with his facial features covered in a futuristic looking gas mask, taken from its own favored era in the distant future. Argento, the once great Silverwind. The Glutton wore a half jacket, seemingly unaffected by the biting chill with chains draped across his body. The corruption seemed to pour off of the Glutton, his rasping voice scratching out beneath the gas mask; the hunters had become the hunted. Advocatus mentally browbeat himself at his stupidity, he should have known that a Libra of that advanced age had known better than to expect they wouldn’t be after him. The imposing figure stood in silence as if daring them to challenge him, a giant sword strapped to his back that glinted menacingly with each flickering of the torches in the biting arctic gale. The calm before the storm settled across the room with Advocatus turning slowly to face the aggressor. “Argento, how wonderful to see you again. What can I do for you?” Advocatus questioned seemingly unphased, almost mocking the Glutton to make a move before letting out a sharp whistle. A pen flew from Ad’s jacket pocket and up before him defensively. “Blue...Moon….Hunt...Er….” Argento rasped from beneath the mask that covered his face, “You….Were… Un….Expected…. Night….Shade… And the… Nord…. As...Well.” The Glutton’s powerful muscles tensed and flexed eagerly in anticipation of the battle to come. Power radiated from this Glutton who even in his defiled state seemingly retained all his powers as a pure through some convoluted means of sorcery. The Pure had not diminished while the Glutton thrived in the sadism. Argento grasped the handle of the massive blade he carried and wrenched it loose from the chains he’d wrapped it in with the sound of metal scraping into rusty metal. The blade’s point dripped with what looked like fresh blood from some recent indulgence of his violent streak. A violet portal spread open beside Aregnto, his clawed fingers easily sliding into the rift that from the depths a soft groaning came out. The Glutton wrenched forth the slim form of a female of their kind and threw her to the floor roughly. The display was a shocking one to say the least as the Glutton easily hefted and threw the victim of his sadism. The woman looked as though she’d been through hell itself and then finally met Argent in his stinking pit of victimization. Blood and dirt coated her skin from obviously dingy conditions as well as the multitude of lacerations upon her flesh. The remorseless conditioning of the Libras had honed a sadist pure into a deadly weapon. The torchlight flickered across the Glutton’s body to reveal the exposed skin plastered with runic tattoos, the source of his power retention almost assuredly as well as what seemed to be some more ominous runes scrawled across his back. “You….Are...Next…” Agrento gasped and rushed them with the crippling blade slashing toward the group’s midsections intending to cut them in half completely. His speed was far greater than your typical Libra, almost guaranteed to be another mystical enhancement added to the once proud creature. Advocatus whistled with enough time between blade and his body to allow his pen to slam into it, the seemingly meager fountain pen sending the swing wide though the blade bit into his upper thigh before crashing down into the floorboards with its razor edge. Advocatus grimaced as his immaculate suit was stained crimson, his blood flowing out with a burning sensation that poured through his leg. The weapon of the Glutton seemed to have some form of enchantment upon it that caused a burning pain to slowly work through the body as the nerves were sent into overdrive. Using his momentum from the swing Argento continued his rush, using the curve of his blade as a spring point to send himself up in a flip to roll up into the air. The blade tore loose of the floor only to make a return trip with mind bending force behind it directly toward Brandr and Sigil’s legs. Were they not careful this battle would assuredly be the last they were to enter.~
ZeekHarbinger: The sudden entrance by another Libra caused Brandr to reach back to the dual blades at his back, the idea of the libras meeting within his domain was beginning to try his patience, the sloitude was the reason he chose it, along many other reasons. "Seems we're convening within eras now instead of indavidual domains...." The cold air that rushed past him once more played no affect on his flesh, he grew so accustomed to his domain he barely noticed the cold in the winter or the heat in the summer, adapting to his surroundings was something he took great pride in. When the sudden scent of fermented cabbage waft past his nose, he knew they were not the only Libra present in the era any more, he was sure the gluttons took on such a putrid scent was to dull the scenses of those hunting them, but being around the nords for as long as he had been, this was no major change to Brandr, though he had never met the Pure himself, he had heard a great deal about him, the idea one of his stature could fall so quickly was unheard of. Seeing this giant of Glutton simply stand there was clearly a taunt, one Brandr had hoped the others could see as well. The runic spells across the Gluttons flesh screamed at Brandr, he could see the hightend abilities sprawled across this beings body, 'This could mean trouble..' the thought crossed his mind as he gripped the hilts of his ebony daggers, watching the Glutton intensly, every aspect of his movements taken into account, but when another Libra was pulled through a violet portal, the sight of her was more then enough to set Brandrs own vices off, though he had been around the nordic men more than long enough, he never once liked the idea of their treatment towards their slave girls. When Argento rushed foward swinging his massive blade there was no other thought in Brandrs mind, move, he did not see the defensive manuvers from Ad, nor the inflicted wound as Brandr had already leaped up into the rafters, until the scent of fresh blood would fill the air, the large wooden beam over head made a wonderous launch point when give the oppurtunity, and this was such an oppurtunity, "You are the one who should not have come to my domain Glutton" his voice filled with a wrath so intense from the sight of the sister Libra, he would pull the blades from their sheaths and launch himself forward towards the Glutton as he would swing his blade once more aiming for Sigil's legs, taking into account the heavey blade would still take some time to swing back around, Brandr held the ebony blades blunt side towards his arms, crossed over in front of himself, he would slash the blades outwards aiming for the Glutton's throat, looking to end this quickly.
DeviousMiskreent: Allura groaned in pain as she was pulled through the portal, her mind all but lost to the bodily sensations that she had endured over the last many weeks at the hands of the creature that had captured her. Her long, platinum blonde hair was so tainted by blood and dirt that it appeared nearly black. Her skin was in much the same condition of filth and blood, and the many colors of aged and newly forming bruises. She bled out from multiple hideious wounds, cuts and gashes nearly covering her entire form. Even her wings were in tatters, shredded feathers that may have once been white or colored now looked like so much road slush on her back, the wings themselves were disjoineted, and lay atop her at odd and broken angles as she was tossed to the ground before the other Libra. The only thing not totally discolored were her eyes, instead they were a soft dull grey, nearly lifeless like the rest of her. "stop . . . him . . ." she gasped and passed out on the frozen ground. --d--
SigilNightshade: It was somewhat comforting seeing the Youngest of his kin, Meeting with the other Libra's and then it happened...The reunion/discussion of the "Glutton" was underway and before you know it in True Renegade fashion everything absolutely went to shit....Now the Glutton readily identified as Argento was systematically picking apart his kinsmen as if they were helpless mortals. This aggitated the Renegade libra. ((II)) In the instant Advocatus had taken the hit Sigil would readily click the watch open taking with it the essence of Hemogloben to which was an instant transmission of existence as a small needle produced itself from the tip of the pocket watch and pricking his thumb as he watched the incoming sweep even as brandr was bracing for intercept. The forearms of sigil would explode wrist to elbow as solidified blood blades in combination with the Ice/Blank Stones came into play as he crossed his arms in a X formation crouching fully to the floor and taking the brunt of the impact only to be rocketed through a wall with Blood blades and all shattering. Smoldering from the sudden objection to the cold Sigil spat the now ruined cigar out of his mouth as his flesh closed just as effortlessy as it had been laid open. "Hey....Fuckboy...That the best you got?! YOU HIT LIKE A BITCH!!!" He was off and out of the snow bank as the alchemic symbols on his arms began to glow a violent crimson red and finally errupt into a Dak black flame The once ornamental skull tattoos alive and chomping at the energy laced air as Sigil's boots ignited aswell before in a matter of moments the gap would be closed. ((III)) Behind his eyes nothing seemed impossible false courage, False bravado even? Sending a flourish of daggers ((approximate estimate based on the reality slowing effects of smoking nightshade)) Even with the twelve count of daggers everything seemed to flow like a steady streamline from one effect until the next allowing for a quick 360 degree rotation once Sigil set foot on flooring again only to catch the other 11 daggers and pitch them with almost machine gun style speeds each dagger being flung through the flames of Condemnation that resided within his fist. But on the 12th throw he would halt Before Drawing his Redeemer- A six shooter heavily modified for the type of fire power it was putting out. Each of the 6 rounds in the chamber contained a roulette of possibilities from Death to paralysis and when things got really heavy essence drain with incinderary capability was the tits when all things were said and done and right now two of those rounds were headed directly toward the ass end of the first dagger intent on driving two of the 11 Daggers thrown directly toward the feet of the obvious blood thirsty libra.