30 August 2006 @ 12:37 am
 
After they come back through Urza's portal, Sharpe comes in from outside at a run. Danny Fenton is limp and bloody in his arms, badly beaten, cut, bitten and unconscious.

"I need a healer!"
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 11:15 pm
 
[OOM: On Phyrexia, a small army brings the war back to those who started it. Millitimed to between Monday morning and Tuesday afternoon.]

[Warnings for severe injury, gore, and character death.]
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 09:47 pm
 
[Elsewhere in the bar: All bad things must come to an end. Millitimed to sunset.]
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 09:47 pm
 
Following a quick stop upstairs to check on Sheila and the kid, Ash is back down at the bar for a drink. He hasn't even bothered to change into clean clothes.

It's been that kind of day.
 
 
Current Mood: indescribable
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 08:58 pm
 
After coming through Urza's portal, and after this, there was a tired, hurt Peter slowly finding a quiet corner booth to sit in the back of the bar.

He flopped down, hung his head down, and covered his face. After a while, there was an occasional weak choked back sob.
 
 
Current Mood: broken woe
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 06:22 pm
The Clock is well past the eleven now. There is perhaps half an hour before the quake is due.

But the more interesting sight is outside. The battle-weary and wounded have returned, perhaps not triumphant against the army set upon them, but with the completion of their objective.

Urza accepts the Armageddon Key -- a crystalline sphere pulsing with the lights of the five manas -- from Gavroche and sprints in the back door, coming to stand before the Clock itself.

Now he just has to figure out how to use the thing.

[ooc: main thread is plotlocked, but reaction tags are welcome.]
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 04:28 pm
Upon the portal closing there is a very still drow on the ground out by the lake.

His swords are still in his hands though the effects of his potions have worn off.

His shoulders are bleeding badly.

If he could speak he would yell for a cleric.

The pain however has reduced him to mentally crieing for help hoping that someone near by is listening.
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 04:26 pm
So.. two dead guys are sitting in a bar a few hours before Last Call.

On a normal day, neither one would have picked the other for company, but today they have two things in common: they're Bound, and they're going to see this through to the end, no matter what that means for them.

The funny thing is, with that wrenching decision made, the rest is actually pretty easy.

And so there's at least one table in the bar today where laughter is still an option. Malcolm and Wesley aren't being too loud about it (out of consideration for their fellow patrons), but they're sharing some of their most embarrassing moments, telling a few bad jokes, and doing what they can to meet death (nothing personal!) if not with a laugh, than at least a smirk.

And, of course, if there's anyone who feels like they do--or would like to feel that way--they're welcome to pull up a chair.


[ooc: I may have to slowtime around dinner time, but consider this an open table for anybody trying to put as happy a face on the day as they can. Feel free to start your own thread--no need to wait for me!]
 
 
29 August 2006 @ 11:52 am
 
One way or another, it's the last day the Clock will be in Milliways.

One way or another, it ends tonight.

One way or another, it'll find you... it'll getcha getcha getcha... oh, wait. Forget that last part.

The Clock is bearing down on twelve. Those with the power and the will to leave have already done so by now. How do you react? Do you hold onto your hope and belief that all will be well? Or do you make your peace and prepare for the worst? Do you encourage others to follow your lead, whatever it may be? Or do you prefer to remain alone, afraid to watch the hopelessness in others -- or afraid to let others see yours?

One thing's for sure. The Clock? Doesn't care either way.
 
 
28 August 2006 @ 08:05 pm
Half past ten on the Clock. Eleven soft chimes ringing out everywhere.

Hold on tight. This is it, Milliways. It's the Big One.

A lesser bar would be so much rubble under this intensity. It has been observed a number of times, though, that Milliways is a special place. A unique place. A place worth fighting for, worth dying for.

Even so, the very foundation of the place is shaken. Dust falls from the ceiling as the rafters shake and splinter and crack. More cracks appear in the walls. Anything not tied down or otherwise Charmed is falling, shifting, or flipping.

(Remarkably, the stained glass rose over the bar serenely weathers the motions, almost anticipating them.)

It's almost over... just a couple more seconds.

Then, a sound. High-pitched. A squeak, almost. Or a screech. Like glass straining under pressure.

And ever-so-slowly, the Window -- the Window -- the one holding out the end of the universe --
C  
   R
A    
   C
      K
  S






The tremors stop. The seal holds. The Window does not break. (Not that I would go over and start tapping on it or anything, mind you.)

But the message is clear. Milliways won't survive another one of these.
 
 
28 August 2006 @ 05:59 pm
 
Molly had stayed in her room, worrying about Cain and where he was and what sorts of dangers he was facing in his attempt to find something to stop that awful clock downstairs.

When it came close to the time that the other quakes had taken place Molly sighs, and coaxes Dragon out from under the bed, then carries the very freaked out kneazle and her broomstick out of the bar and over toward the lake area.

She is careful not be in the way of any trees that might fall as she takes to the air, cradling a piteously mewling Dragon.

When the quake comes, Molly holds her breath and watches as thing shake and tumble all around her. It was a bad one, she could tell.

Once the quake subsides, she lands, and lets Dragon down to the ground, where he simply cowers at her feet. She isn't sure what she should do now.
 
 
28 August 2006 @ 04:49 pm
 
Apologies for delay... RL sucks....

Urza and his team have left. The Clock pays them no more heed than it pays anything else, which is to say, none.

All it knows is it is pushing for 11 today.

And considering the damage that 8 did last night, it's going to be a hell of a show if it makes it.
 
 
28 August 2006 @ 11:56 am
 
Urza has delayed as long as he can. The signups have trickled off, and he cannot wait for any more, if they are to have a chance of getting back in time.

He takes down the notice from beside the clock and holds it in his hand as he walks out to the lake. A small stream of mana flows into the paper, and the message is sent to every name on it.

Come now. It is time.

As they appear by the lake in ones and twos, Urza mostly allows them to group themselves based on familiarity and common tactics. The thieves are spoken to separately; each is given a mental image of the Armageddon Key and a rough idea of the way down. Some is only speculation, as even Urza himself has only anecdotal evidence for anything beyond the Fourth Sphere.

When all are assembled, Urza channels the necessary mana and opens the portals to Phyrexia.

The last hope for Milliways vanishes into the shimmering walls.
 
 
27 August 2006 @ 07:42 pm
The Clock is just a hair before 8 when the eight chimes sound.

It's a bad one. Anything not secured is getting moved or coming down. Fortunately, after all the damage recently, most everything in the bar itself has been tied down or charmed. In the rooms upstairs, even heavier furniture like bed and bureaus are liable to be shifted by the shaking. Visible cracks appear in some of the inner walls as the support studs shift in opposition to each other. Even the support columns shift a couple of degrees under the force.

Outside, the other buildings also tremble. The greenhouse luckily escapes most of the force; however, the stables aren't so lucky. Tack and feeding buckets are thrown from the walls. The holder for the hay cracks and spills some of the contents across the floor. Several of the doors are shaken loose, releasing some of the horses out into the open, while others are merely spooked by the sudden tremors but have nowhere to go.

[ooc: See Lorna's backroom post regarding the stable repair, etc]
 
 
27 August 2006 @ 01:26 pm
 
The clock is really whizzing forward today. After the large sacrifice last night, it's got a lot of ground to make up if it's going to reach the 10 by the time the quake is happening.

The note asking for sacrifices is still up, as is the note asking for signups for the ground assault.

And beside the clock, Urza himself still sits. Planeswalkers do not actually require sleep, or food, or any of those mortal trappings, so he hasn't moved, and has no plans to until the final possible moment.

[ooc: multi"pup" post! You can interact with the clock, talk to Urza, or just sign up on the note. All in one convienient, easy-to-use entrance post.]
 
 
26 August 2006 @ 11:54 pm
 
(After.)

It had been so simple, so quick. So careless. She almost hadn't believed it would truly take what she'd offered. Hadn't believed that she was truly offering until the dare had been placed. That's what it had been -- a dare. Take this from me if you will.

(you would do this to me?)

And it had.

(every time.)

Now there was a violently blue ex-goddess sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace. She's sitting carelessly, half curled into it, almost as though she'd fallen there.

Which she essentially had.

Shards of broken crystal are biting into her clenched fist, even through the armor. She isn't really aware of that, but at least it's something to feel, when she remembers that she can.

She may be weakened, but her eyes shoot daggers at any who would dare to come too close.

(touch me and die, vermin)

It may not seem a very dramatic difference, to most who knew her.

But once again, and too soon, everything is different.
 
 
26 August 2006 @ 09:47 pm
 
[OOM: Millitimed to last night. Fred approaches Illyria with a request. More of a suggestion, really. It goes about as well as you'd expect.]
 
 
26 August 2006 @ 07:36 pm
The sacrifice of a god is a powerful one indeed.

Though the Clock would have stood at nine today, because of the strength of the offering, it sits at roughly half that.

The clock chimes only five times.

Compared to the previous two nights, tonight's tremor is mild. The walls make no cracking sounds; the windows and dishes rattle right enough, but very few are actually broken. Natives of California, or others used to earthquakes, may barely notice, especially when compared to the more recent quakes.

The only truly noticeable damage isn't to the bar itself, but rather limited to the plume of acrid, multi-colored smoke drifting out from under the door of the magical library. Looks like some of the more magical books were shaken loose and fell in contact with each other. Could be a bit of a mess.
 
 
It had been dark last night, for a long while.

Asar-Suti had conjured himself a globe of godfire, and gone on working, sifting information on the Armageddon clock, and its world.

At least they had a name and a home world (of sorts) for that thing now. A very strange home world, though, that did many things in a way that was utterly alien to Asar-Suti, and many of the other magic users in the library. But people like Ray and Shikozu would balance that.

Doggedly, Asar-Suti kept collating barely comprehensible material.
 
 
26 August 2006 @ 06:52 pm
 
After speaking with Asar-Suti, Urza has obtained a piece of paper and a pen. Such a simple invention, that, and yet it had never occurred to him that it could be done!

He sits at a table and composes a note, thinking carefully before setting anything down. When it is done, he tacks it up beside the Clock, under the one asking for sacrifices.



People of Milliways,

I deeply regret the peril that my arrival has put all of you in. I had not expected my enemies to stoop to this level of destruction, or I would never have remained here long enough to be found.

I wish to help rid this place of the vile device threatening it, but I cannot do this thing alone. My intent is to find a small team of rogues -- theives, or the like -- to sneak into the heart of Phyrexia in order to steal the artifact that will be required to destroy the Clock. At the same time, I will require a significant force of warriors and magic-users in order to draw attention away from this smaller team and engage the Phyrexian army in battle.

This will be a dangerous venture for anyone who chooses to come. I will do everything in my power to assist, but I can guarantee neither safety nor survival. But if this course is to be undertaken, it must be done so with all due immediacy.

If you are willing to take this risk, please indicate so by signing your name to the bottom of this notice. The magic I have placed on the page will ensure that when the call to leave is sounded, you will hear it no matter where you are. Those with questions, or who are interested in the smaller team of thieves: I will be at a table beside the clock until the last possible moment that can be delayed.

Again, my deepest regrets at this development, and I sincerely hope that the impending disaster can be averted.

Urza