She couldn’t remember how she’d ended up on the metro, but she’d been on the same train for more than an hour following the same endless circuit, waiting for the shadow of trepidation to retreat. Her feet were drawn up on the faded seat, her fingers picking at the fabric of her canvas shoes. Rust red stained the beds of her nails, and licked like orange flames on her hands and up her forearms. The paint splattered her jeans, and scarlet inked the side of her head, soaked into the hair at her temple like a head wound. The powdery scent of acrylic belied any injury, though her eyes held the fragile, glassy look of shock. The faint, streamline hum of the engines masked the tremble in her limbs, and she could almost imagine the icy shivers of fear were nothing but whispers of the cold evening freezing aboveground. She’d forgotten her coat. Her arms were bare, goosefleshed with chill.

The weight of disquiet, though; the nauseous, uneasy prickle of foreboding; that had no explanation, and had driven her from the solitude of her studio without a destination, just so long as it was away away away. The tattered remains of the painting already misted in her mind, just the mess of blood and fire like the heavens writhed, and that perfect moment of crystal clarity already forgotten. Sick of looking at her ghostly window-reflection as the train rattled on in darkness, she closed her eyes, pressed her forehead to her knees. The cab was mostly empty, and those that came and went at each stop so far had paid her little mind. Moscow was not short of eccentrics.

Much discussion has come up of late regarding what really happened during the godwars - the battles between the god-like channelers at the height of their power as observed at the end of the 5th Age.

To begin to address this question, some of our members (Jaxen, Michael, among others) have been working on creating a "map", if you will, of the broad events regarding the different types of pantheons.

I started a page on the wiki to house the graphic (thanks to Jaxen!!), and begin to explain it in further detail. Michael is going to explore the history regarding Greek Titans, and Jaxen will do the same for Ragnarok. Anyone else interested in doing some world-building, jump in!

Hit the the link for the page!

John Carlyle was born in the year 2007, to a family of diminishing power. He is a descendent of the powerful Carlyle family, which established themselves during the Gilded Age. His father, through a series of bad investments lost a large majority of the family money, and most of the family’s real estate was sold in order to compensate for massive debt. During the destruction of New York, his parents were killed in the tsunami as they were sailing in the family’s only remaining yacht. During this time, he was at the Philips Exeter Academy in Andover, MA, and escaped the flood.

All the family’s real estate in Greenwich Connecticut, and New York City was destroyed, and he was left with a trust fund containing less than 10 million dollars, a far shot from his family’s original net worth of over 1.5 billion dollars. After graduating high school he went to Purdue on a full scholarship. While at Purdue, he founded an aeronautics company that made more efficient turbines to be used in jet engines. During this time, he became the president of the local Theta Tau chapter. In his junior year he met Nick Trano during an expo at which his small company was present. He graduated at the top of his class.

After college he went immediately to his Ph.D studies. The day-to-day functions of his company were delegated to his girlfriend while he continued his studies. After he got his Ph.D, he married his longtime girlfriend, and they became John and Tracy Carlyle. Upon returning to the company, he embarked on a massive venture to expand the size and influence of the company. Within 7 years, the Carlyle group was one of the most innovative and high-tech companies in the world. They were a diversified holdings group, with hands in industries ranging from weapons, energies, computer, mobile communications, space, and investment management. During this time, Carlyle bought out Microsoft, Pratt and Whitney. Their weapons development program merged with Raytheon, and for all intents and purposes, Raytheon was annexed into the Carlyle Group. By 2038, the Carlyle group was the largest multinational conglomerate, employing more than 800,000 people within the United States. The median income of a Carlyle employee is 24% above the median income workers in similar companies. During this time, the Carlyle group helped finance and equip the minutemen. Money and equipment was funneled to the minutemen, helping the minutemen’s initiatives win combat situations and Laos and Thailand. At age 32, he once again passed on the day to day running of the company to Tracy, while he became a U.S. Senator, and the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations committee.

In the six years between ’39 and ’45, he drastically strengthened industrial and trade ties with Argentina, Brazil, and Australia. Through the Carlyle group, he is creating a mutually beneficial relationship with South America, ushering in job growth, industrial growth, and economic growth. His policies at this time, as a leading figure of the political opposition, contradicted those enacted by President Frederick Dawson. Given his considerable influence, he is able to converse with foreign governments with an unprecedented level of authority. He may not be the Secretary of State, but at this point he speaks for a large percentage of the population.
Edited by John Carlyle, Feb 1 2014, 08:23 PM.

To be a dick, I'd like to point out that the greater moscow & golden ring board gets a lot of traffic compared to the others. Could we separate the board out somehow into other divisions to help spread the traffic?

For instance:

Inner-city
Moscow City (the business district)
Red light district (already have that one)
Golden ring (suburbs)
Whatever else I'm not thinking of?

Panteni was the firstborn of a wealthy family living in a small village in the south of Spain.
His first years were the perfect live every child should have. He was surrounded by a
loving family, never pampered though he had everything he needed. Most of the time he
was a caring, gentle and lovable child. He was lively and polite, and his eyes always sparkled as if he knew a secret, that nobody else knew about. But at times he would have tantrums, the worst kind of tantrums. Sometimes triggered by a bit of pain, other times when he was treated unfair, but there were times (and these where the worst) at which nothing could be pointed out as a trigger. But his parents never worried, they would point out to other people that those were just some leftovers from the terrible two's.

By the year 2020, when he was just 7 years old, he had the worst tantrum of his life. An earthquake in the nearby village killed his grandmother, and as he heard the news he raged as he had never before. His mother saw ,for the first time, the pure hatred and vile that was in his eyes during these tantrums. Innocence and love seemed to have disappeard from his eyes, there was no sign of grief, no sign of humanity. Something inside of him had broken.

His mother didn't know what to do. Out of desperation she went to the Gipsy Queen, as no one could tell her what was wrong with her child. As soon as she walked into the chapel of Santa Maria, an old woman approached her. She told the mother to come with her to the chamber in the backroom of the chapel. She was told to sit down, and without any further interaction, the Queen started shuffling her tarot deck. As she layed out the cards her face started showing more and more signs of worry. She looked at the mother and said only: "get this child out of the country, no saint or God can cure him of the devil growing inside of him. Take him away, leave your family behind or you will both die. "

Her worries weren't taken away, but it couldn't possibly be as bad as the Gipsy Queen had said. She thought that it was just the Gipsy superstition and their religious views towards mental health. The more she thought about it on her way home, the more her worries slipped away. They were grieving, as was the rest of the family. But when she got home, something felt off. She aproached the half open door with an ice-cold knot in her stomach. And as she slowly opened the door, her youngest daughter came running towards her with teardrenched eyes. "mamá, something is wrong with Pan" and they both ran upstairs. She walked into the room, and in the middle of a ravaged bedroom sat Panteni. Almost as if he was meditating. He opened his eyes and with a voice that seemed to radiate peace he said to his mother: "Mamá, you know what to do".

And she did.

they left almost immediately, crossed the straight of Gibraltar and found a home in the City of Tetuan and tried to live a normal life. They had contact with their family back home and although things weren't ideal, Panteni didn't have a tantrum for may years. His mother even thought of going back home, but Panteni kept urging they should stay. And so they did.
Years of peaceful living, family members that would sometimes visit them, and Panteni going to school they heard more and more about civil unrest in the rest of the world. And then the CCD took over in Europe. In just a few years his father had lost everything they owned. They had to move out of Europe and they wanted to join Panteni and his mother. His mother was so happy the entire family would be reunited again albeit in poverty. Panteni seemed happy too and he got more and more excited with the idea of the entire family in one house once again. But the family never arrived. A week before he would turn 18 they heard the news: and entire boat filled with refugees had been swallowed by the sea.
Panteni exploded with anger and the demon seemed to have returned. He wreaked havoc in their small house, his mother was scared for her life and wanted to leave... she ran to the door. And as Panteni shouted: "Mamá, why are you leaving me as well?!" she fell to the floor. While her eyes filled up with tears of agony and pain, her spirit left her body.

This was the first time the terrible headache came upon him. He screamed as he never did before and collapsed to the floor, fainted.

He spend his 18th birhtday in an asylum. In the first weeks he had a terrible fever and the nurses took care of him as well as they could. His story wasn't the worst they'd heard in their workfield, so they weren't worried. All they knew was he had killed his mother in an act of rage. But as he seemed to be doing better and he opened his eyes more often they weren't so sure anymore. By the time the sickness had left completely, no nurse wanted to go near him. He could easily be treated, had no tantrums and was more apathic then anything else, but they all whispered the same "Shaitan is in his eyes". And when a doctor entered the room, with a huge feeling of unease, something in the eyes of the boy changed. He looked directly into the doctor's eyes and the doc had the feeling he should flee. As he took out a needle to give him his last shot before he would be send out to a juvi-prison the docter missed Panteni's vein and scraped the bone. Panteni screemed in pain and doctor dropped dead. The feeling of the sickness returned and he fainted, only to wake up tied down to a bed in a dark room. Here he would spend his 19th birthday, and his 20th.

but in that dark room something changed inside of him. He began to feel something... growing inside of him. Something pushing to come out. He started to believe the whispers about the devil inside of him. But then something happened, in a moment of clarity he understood. He was no devil, he was just special. That moment he decided not to be afraid of what was inside of him he tried to almost, catch that feeling. It didn't work. He got frustrated and kept trying. His frustration grew by the day and then came an almost magical moment. As his frustration changed into anger he was filled with power. He suddenly could see everything in his dark cell. He could see the tube going into his arm that fed him as he layed tied down in his bed. He could see another tube putting a strange transparent liquid into his arm. He could see clearly in the dark. And he felt a power surging through his body. And then, as anger made way for curiosity, the power was gone, the room was dark.

He started to get control of his anger and his power. He felt the power fighting back the medicine they gave him to cloud his mind. He started holding the power for longer times without really using it. But after a while, he would faint into a dreamless sleep. This cycle kept repeating itself. The medicine didn't have a grip on his mind anymore. His dreams returned and although he couldn't remember them, he felt they where important.

After having spend two years in complete darkness, there was one particular night something strange happened, he felt as if he wasn't dreaming, but knew he was asleep. He was lying on the bed and thought about how it was in the outside world. And suddenly, he was in the outside world. Still tight down to the bed he let his eyes explore the air. The sweet fresh and warm air filled his lungs. He hadn't sensed it in years, and his eyes filled with tears. He wanted more of the fresh air, wanted to fly through the air absorbing as much of the fresh air as he could. His bed took to the sky and he wondered... could he make the bed... and his bed was gone. For the first time in years he spread his arms, his legs and happiness overwhelmed him. He was free, and the devil that had been inside of him for all these years vanished for the first time. He soared through the air like a bird, filled with joy. He flew further and futher away. Where previously there had been a knot filled with anger, there now was a warm and soothing feeling. He flew to his old home in Tangiers, and when he came down... he noticed there were no people on the street. He flew higher again towards his village in spain. And when he got to the village, there was a large strange flag untop of city hall. He went on to his house and saw there were nothing but ruins... suddenly a hooded man appeared next to him. He only heard a whisper. "you shouldn't be here yet". He felt as if he was forced back into the chamber, locked up once again. And he woke up.

He tried going back every time he fell asleep. He couldn't. He tried to call upon his power. And he couldn't. And for the first time in his life, he felt lost. The medicine didn't have a grip on his mind anymore. Then grief struck. Never in his life had he felt sadness, and it overwhelmed him. Memories that had been pushed away by the medicine came back, he remembered his life more clearly than ever. And he just knew, that the power that had given him back his mind, had taken away his mother. The next year was filled with remorse, grief and the feeling of loss.
Another year passed and the doctors noticed the change inside of him. They were no longer filled with fright as they passed by his room. The monitors showed that he was still alive, he was still receiving medicine and that the feeding bot still gave him what he needed. But they also noticed something else, his bloodrate was low. His heart wasn't pounding anymore as it had been for years. The whispers started again. But for the first time in years they weren't about Patient S.(the name nurses had given Panteni). They where about a nurse. One nurse in particular.

Some nurses whispered the word "witch". Others the word "Saint". But most whispers where the rumors they'd heard about people with strange powers. Nurse Luna had worked in the asylum for almost a year and had only heard stories about Patient S. as they called him. Every patient in the asylum was doing better since she arrived. Every patient she nursed showed almost miraculous recovery. There was only one patient she wasn't allowed to see, Patient S.. She was aware of her influence as well, she couldn't really control it, but all she knew was it all happened after the sickness. Ever since she had known that she soothed and brought a feeling of peace to the people around her, she had worked here in the Asylum. She had the feeling she made this dark world a little bit better, and she wanted to help even the worst case this asylum had. Patient S. She awaited a good moment to go to him, and on the first nightwatch she was alone, she sneaked into solitary.

A bright light exploded in his eyes. Panteni didn't dare open his eyes again. He remembered what it was, he knew what it was. But his eyes just couldn't handle what suddenly struck them, the first ray of light that came into the room in years. And right at the moment the pain was at it's worse, he succumbed to a feeling of love.The agony had finally ended, he understood his grief, he understood his anger. He understand himself. And he understood the light. That light, was an angel.

She walked toward the room in the back. She whiped her pass and heard sound of the magnetic doors unlocking. She carefully opened the door, and as she saw the thin ray of light touching the face of patient S. he screamed in agony. She was a little bit scared but switched out the hallway lights and walked towards him. As soon as she touched him he calmed down. She was in complete darkness, but she had never felt safer in her life. And she just knew they looked each other in the eyes. She bend over and kissed him.

A sweet smell reached his nose, almost reminded him of home. He just knew he looked the angel in the eyes. And all he felt was the urge to kiss her. He reached up as much as his restraints would allow him to, and their lips touched each other.

They both didn't understand it, they didn't even know what the other one looked like. This Patient was different. She didn't feel the same darkness that was in the minds of the other patients. She only felt sadness and suffering inside of him. On that moment they knew they belonged together.

Panteni felt the restraints around him loosen up. This was no angel... this was a woman. His woman. Arms surrounded him and warmth overwhelmed him. Her arms lifted him up and put him in a wheelchair.
Nurse Luna sneeked him out of the Asylum. She knew she coulnd't work there anymore, she knew she had to flee the city. She knew, and she didn't care.

The next two years flew by. They where filled with love and joy. But one night something went horribly wrong. It started with a knock on the door. As Luna opened it up she saw two men wearing strange cloths. One of them had a strange tattoo on his arm, it looked like a snake in the form of an 8. She felt the darkness inside of them and she turned to the only defense she had. She tried to light their darkness. One of the men relaxed and calmed down.
"I'm sorry miss, that wont work on me". And a bag was pulled over her head.

"The other one must be upstairs" Was all Panteni needed to hear. They had come for him. He tried to open the window to jump out and escape, but he just coulnd't. The stranger came into the room. He manically tried to open the window but it still wouldn't give a budge. The moment he was struck by electricity the old demon returned. His powers had returned, and he lashed out with all he could. The stranger suddenly held his head and started screaming. Somehow Panteni knew he was overflowing the man with nightmares. The worst kind of nightmares, those that feel as real as life. That was his moment. The man kept on screaming as Panteni rushed down the stair to look for Luna. but all he could see was one van driving away in the distance, and another one still parked with the back door open. They had taken his moon, and he gave them the darkest night of their life.
He stole a horse and escaped the country and started his own pilgrimage. He travelled on horseback through as much nature as possible. Obtaining food and money by using his power he managed to survive. He travelled through the north of africa, followed the trail to jerusalem. The most believed speculations say he went on to the Himalayas. Others say that he had gone to the most southern tip of Africa, and there are whispers who talk about the south pole, Antarctica. Nothing is really known, and he doesn't answer any questions asked about those years. He seemed to have disappeared, only to reappeare in the outskirts of Moscow in the year 2043. He had changed, though his physical and mental scars were still visible, he looked like a man who had found the answer of life. Now searching for a way to help mankind and to find his moon. Starting in Moscow.

Continued from: A Blind Eye

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the building housing Mr Talanov's condo. By then, Hood had donned the jacket and coat again, so when they were let out by Koloman, he wasn't flashing a high-caliber revolver around for all to see. Not that there were many on the streets at so late an hour, but appearances were everything.

Koloman wished the pair a good night, and the Pervaya car pulled away in short order, disappearing into the night. Hood offered his arm and led the way in, passing by the pair of doormen who let them in without any issue. The building was not terribly unlike the one they had left, save that this was the sort that the rich and powerful considered more...modest.

Mr Talanov's suite wasn't the top floor penthouse. That was not what he required of the place. A few minutes later he opened the door to the room that had been lent to him for the night. The foyer led directly to a well appointed living room in earth tones and rich woods.

He took her coat and hung it properly, then his own, before making his way to the well stocked bar to pour a drink. "I think this is a bit more your style. The closest place I have to here smells like gun oil. Big surprise, right? Not often I actually try to cash in on an employer's good graces, but you're worth the headache I'm going to get when the boss chews me out tomorrow."

Jensen hid a yawn behind his hand. It was late afternoon, but he'd been awake less than an hour. He'd overslept the alarm that should have seen him arrive to the cafe on time. Instead, he'd scrambled about John's loft like a frantic college student and barely had time to shower before running out the door. The building doorman jumped none too pleased from the path of an extremely apologetic Jensen, who was more of a blurred blaze of an unbuttoned coat and flapping scarf.

Somehow, he made it to the cafe in the nick of time. God bless the Moscow metro system for operating with military precision. Once he gained his bearings after falling in the door, he realized nothing had changed about the place. It was on the same stop as where he hailed the bus that carried him to his old forklift job. Around the corner was a decent food market, too. The Tulskaya metro stop just shy of the third ring road in southern Moscow had some fantastic food carts, and his stomach rumbled just thinking about his usual fare on the way to work. One pirozhki stand in particular sold these individually sized baked buns stuffed with meats, mushrooms, rice and onions to die for, and were easy to eat and walk at the same time. On a cold winter's day like today, a steamy hot breakfast sounded fantastic. Tony probably was less enamored with them than Jensen, but when Jensen bought a biscuit from the counter, his stomach ached for pirozhki.

He went ahead and also purchased two cups of coffee for himself and Tony, who had been kind enough to meet him here, and was the reason Jensen hurried to arrive on time. His mother always said punctuality meant being early, but she would cringe to see her son arriving at the stroke of the clock as he had today.

Impolite as it appeared, he kept his coat on while seated. Not because he wanted to be prepared for the event of a quick getaway, but because the shop was rather drafty. The recent cold plunge seeped around the old windows and blew in his face every time the door opened.

Jensen was pushing disheveled hair from his eyes and nursing a creamy cup of coffee when he finally caught his breath at a table.


Edited by Jensen James, Jan 27 2014, 05:20 PM.

"Why do you watch this dribble, Ascendancy? You never gave the media much thought before."

Nikolai shifted his gaze from yet another report on Amira's death to the man that currently kept his company, Rameshwar Singh, and for about the tenth time, Nik considered asking the Privilege to leave. If the man had even an inkling of the Ascendancy's displeasure, he would trip over himself to get out the door. The problem was Nik wasn't sure whether he wanted to be alone or simply left alone. The Privileges were the closest things he had to friends - above ground anyway - but Nikolai was not ignorant. He knew their allegiance was purchased. Everything has a price, he thought bitterly. At least it simplified the world.

The grimace must have translated because the Privilege shifted in his seat. Otherwise he held his gaze. This man could stare down a charging bull without so much as a flinch. In fact, he had once. Half the man's skull had been caved in during the incident, though you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at the man's thick, black hair. Yet he was uncomfortable around Nikolai. Nik almost smiled at the reaction.

"These people spurn reason,"
he began. The interview was muted, but it was obvious the witness standing on the mosque steps was pointing out where he'd found the linen-shrouded body. "They want to turn back the wheel and live in the cesspool of the dark ages,"
he seethed.

He shook his head and looked to the ceiling. The aircraft was spacious, but despite warm walls, the interior could not fool him. He was trapped between the distant planet below and the eternal horizon above.

The Privilege replied, voice steady, "Will you release the Dominance if asked?"

Nikolai barely took a moment, "If I thought all they wanted was release from the Custody, I would consider it."
Then he shook his head, staring at the screen. The interview was over only to be replaced by the video of the murderers taken for arraignment. "But these people will never be content until this Hasan is what I am."
Disgust curled the back of his tongue. Even if the man was a brother-god, he could never be what Nikolai was. Nobody could.

The Privilege perked to the edged of his seat, hands folded on his lap. "What of this conference, then? You go to seek peace?"

His chest did not tighten; nor his stomach sink. He thought back to when he first saw the news of Amira's murder and he knew what must be done. In his mind, casualties blurred with sacrifice for the greater good. Nikolai would teach them what it meant to justify the honorable slaughter of a beloved innocent.

But he didnt answer the question. Instead, he signaled for the aid in the next room. A moment later, the young man entered.

"Get me General Grigori Devdas from MILSTAR command. Tell him I want an update on the SPACE-TRACK situation."


The aid nodded and the Privilege took his leave likely with his own guess for the Ascendancy's plan. He was likely to be wrong. Afterward, when the General was put through, Nikolai was already standing, hands tucked casually behind his back and in complete control of the anger billowing across his thoughts.

"Ascendancy,"
the General greeted. "I have an update for you."
Devdas was a slender man with broad shoulders that suited the gray and gold Custody Air Force uniform. Among his many accolades which were prominently pinned to the front of his uniform, the four-star general was the current commander of the Air Force's space agency: MILSTAR. It operated on defensive budgets rather than on research and so gave them more money and greater applicability. Nobody cared about Mars, especially Nikolai, but high-altitude rocketry and satellite weaponry on the other hand.

Prior to his current position, Devdas served in numerous states of leadership throughout Custody services. He was also an aeronautical engineer and an accomplished upper-atmospheric pilot.

He continued with his update of the situation as officially stated in the record. "In the past few hours STAR-TRACK Situational Awareness has begun monitoring an anomaly roughly two million kilometers from our atmosphere. We have been in contact with DARPA with the US-DOD. They are now aware of the anomaly, and I can confirm they have been in contact with Beijing for corroborating evidence."


Nikolai nodded thoughtfully, "And the anomaly will be ready as scheduled?"


The General straightened his posture, if that was even possible. "By current trajectory, will be ready at 2300 hours the night before."
The man was proud of the accomplishment. As well he should be.

Nikolai's consideration approved. "Very good, General. I want regular updates sent to my office every two hours until then."


"Of course, Ascendancy."
The General saluted. The screen returned to the muted coverage of Amira's murder.

Nik crossed to the window and looked out. A field of white clouds rolled beneath the plane, but unfurled above was the endless sky. An opaque crescent of the moon hung sentineled with the heavenly dusk. By week's end, the same peaceful horizon would rain fiery comets. The Atharim, Trano, Hasan: they should know not to push him too far, but Amira's murder was the last straw. Let them slaughter one another, but blame him for their butchery?

They sought God's favor.

It was time for God's answer.

It looks like another one is in the books. Anyone open for a thread?

Autumn (late) 2045.