Conversation Space: The Ultimate

[powersthatbe]

You feel as if you've stepped through a door.

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XX. Judgment

[callmemeibe]

A shroud of mist obscures the vision, but when it slowly parts, a warm golden glow illuminates a floor and ceiling of white, fluffy clouds, softer than silk on the skin and delightfully buoyant, water droplets somehow not sticking to skin despite feeling wet when touched. The circle of fluffy, dense clouds extends to about ten meters in diameter, all told, and then drops off to an empty, golden sky. It is advised one does not fall off the edge - for it seems to lead nowhere.

Marble pillars veined with gold occasionally protrude through the clouds, their facades elegantly carved into the likenesses of cherubs at the architrave and base. In the middle of this circle of clouds is a marble table, upon which rests one golden chalice, filled with a clear, but deliciously sweet liquid, that seems to not only feed the mind, but soothe the soul as well.

[dalectable]

This certainly isn't where Vilari expected to come out to, not that she can ever predict what Liminal Space will look like when she emerges. She feels especially filthy in such a clearly clean and beautiful space, absently wiping at her blood-streaked cheek. The distinct lack of other Travelers makes it just a tad disturbing, especially when she's been stuck alone, in her Dungeon, for who knows how long.

[callmemeibe]

She is not left alone for very long. A presence seems to slowly fade into the space, possibly a familiar one if she remembers the dragon spirit. Before long a winged being is sitting on one of the clouds by the marble table. They watch Vilari with curiosity, but do not seem threatening, their hands gently clasping a ram's horn trumpet.

"It is good to have you online again. Welcome."

[dalectable]

Vilari stares warily at the 'creature', hands twitching with a need to grasp her weapons but remaining at her sides.

"Not sure I'm as pleased to be back, truth be told," she answers slowly. "You... you were the 'dragon' in Bando. The one who Marked me."

[bitofafop]

It had actually started out as a pretty fair day, surprisingly enough, up until Artemis left the inn room he had been staying in.

Mostly because, suddenly, there was no more inn. And more than that, there was no more Jarlaxle. No mercenaries, no city. What should have come as a relief to the man only made the whole situation that much more disconcerting, because a place like this could only come from some sort of wizardry. At best. At worst, well...

Artemis pushed the thought from his mind. Hands on weapons, ready to draw at any moment, he walked carefully around the cloud filled...room? Could it even be called that? But save for the chalice left invitingly on the table, which went untouched, nothing immediately screamed danger. And there was no exit he could see.

Wonderful.

"You have my attention." A pause. Then, more irritably, "Now what do you want?"

[callmemeibe]

"A discussion," says a voice, and suddenly there is an angelic figure carrying a ram's horn trumpet among the coulds with Artemis. They pause, before questioning, "Why are you upset?"

[bitofafop]

Thereit is. To his credit, Artemis doesn't flinch. His hand might tighten ever more slightly on Claw's hilt, but he turns to face the figure calmly, coldly looks them up and down. What on...?

"Personality trait." Probably not the best idea to be getting smart whatever sort of creature this is, but when has that ever stopped him? "I don't appreciate being toyed with."

[highnoonsomewhere]

"Well, da- dang, guess I up and died and gone to heaven," McCree comments to himself (or possible hidden observers, because you never know) as he glances around. "Never expected to wind up here."

He strolls over to the table, examining the chalice, but careful not to touch. He's not sure where he is, exactly, heavenly trappings aside, and whatever drink is in there smells like a trap to him.

[callmemeibe]

"Not Heaven, but a representation of it," says a voice from above. On one of the marble columns is an angel, carrying a ram's horn trumpet in their hands. "It is so we might speak in private."

[highnoonsomewhere]

"Seems pretty darn private, darlin'," McCree agrees, looking up at the angel. A bit like Angela, but more realistic with the mechanical additions, maybe? It's hard to say, from here. "What can I do for you?"

[not_the_question]

The Doctor looked sceptically at the sight before him. He doesn't take the chalice yet. After all, he has no reason to trust anything he is seeing before him. Sure he was distraught over losing his wife, but this was ridiculous, even for his experiences.

"Let me guess. Another god? Which one are you?"

He had seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, but none of them could hold up next to any one of his many companions. Besides, he had just recently decided to reapply his efforts to save the universe. He might be willing to accept this would be a formal invitation to do just that. Save for the pure spectacle of it.

"Worse than the Guardians..."

That had been mumbled under his breath. He looked around when no familiar voice in reply to his comment came... He'd been here, all of two minutes and he already missed Nardole. This didn't bode well.

[callmemeibe]

"Your Gods mean nothing here, Champion."

Fake god or bad god or demigod or would-be god or no, the individual appearing before the Doctor now is most certainly angelic.

"You have questions, surely. Ask them. I will answer them as I can, Chosen."

[sees_red]

Jason moves to the edge of the cloud, frowning down at the infinite drop. He tries, repeatedly, to reach for the morphing grid, with no success. Damn. Is this a dream? Has Rita taken him someplace? He paces the edge, trying to psych himself up for a jump, but a jump into absolutely nowhere is more intimidating than a jump off a cliff. And if he is dreaming, it doesn't matter.

[callmemeibe]

"Inadvisable," a voice suddenly states from seemingly nowhere. Jason may sense a presence several respectful steps behind him, waiting.

[sees_red]

He'll turn, quickly, reflexes fast enough he still startles himself, to see who's there.

[imitable]

Major paces around the edge of the cloud, steps firm, back rigid. She's alert — not necessarily prepared for a fight, but she's not about to let anyone sneak up on her. The concept of Heaven — angels, God, everything divine — it's not foreign to her, but it's also not somewhere that she thinks she belongs. She has a ghost, and she's starting to understand what that means. But an afterlife? When you can be reduced to nothing but code, does anyone ever really die?

Major stalks up to the cup, contemplates it. She dips a finger in, and rubs the pad of her thumb and index finger together.

[callmemeibe]

Major's sensory receptors detect the sweet scent of the liquid, feel the smooth texture on her false skin, and see how the liquid seems to glisten under the light in a way that water or other liquids would.

A shift in the air behind her indicates a presence a few meters away, but the figure does not seem to be interested in moving closer.

"Greetings."

[imitable]

Major turns, brow creasing as she looks upon the figure now joining her in the room. Her body tenses as she goes on alert. So far, she doesn't sense any danger — but she hasn't gotten this far by letting her guard down in situations like this.

"Who are you?"

[razorblade_empress]

She'd been wondering when this was going to happen. She's reminded of Philemon's realm, although the expanse of nothing outside of his pavilion had been dark.

Of course, the reminder of Philemon also brings reminders of Nyarlathotep and his 'bet' with Philemon (and she still can't believe she'd missed a chance to help take Nyarlathotep down by one Jaunt). And that makes this entire 'competition' stink that much worse - games like this tend not to end well for the pawns.

[callmemeibe]

A figure sits upon a partially toppled pillar that rests upon the clouds. They have bright white wings and a ram's horn in their hands. They wear solid white cloth.

Bowing their head in greeting, they watch Yukino calmly, but curiously.

[razorblade_empress]

Yukino raises an eyebrow. "I've gotta admit, you're not the one I was expecting."

[ambitionburns]

That this new place is composed of clouds confuses Nero for a moment. It's a bit like the liminal space that he'd tired of exploring... but not enough like it for him to feel at all certain about what is going on. Uneasy but curious, he strides forward to the marble table, takes a moment to eye the contents, then carefully touches his fingertips to the tabletop. "I've had quite enough sudden displacement, thank you." Because sometimes, someone is actually watching, even when nothing is there.

[pendingjudgement]

"Perhaps."

The voice that comes from behind him sounds not unlike trumpets - not unlike, perhaps, the fanfare that announced Nero at every new location he visited in the cloud-cliffs, save for the words within the sound. It belongs to a dark-skinned, winged figure that almost certainly was not there a moment ago.

"Welcome, Nero tol Scaeva. We have much to discuss."

QC Post-Jaunt

[professorwolf]

Lyall hadn't been sure this would even work, but here he is, opening his eyes to the cloud-island in the middle of the sky. Glancing down over the edge, briefly, makes him glad he can have wings, should he so choose.

"Penuel?" he begins, turning back to the island itself to look for them.

[pendingjudgement]

"Yes?"