Saving Yggdrasil - The Death Of Maia


maia_icon.jpg haldor_icon.jpg

Scene Title Saving Yggdrasil - The Death of Maia
Synopsis Maia dies to save Yggdrasil. Haldor rages.

Having spent as much time with Haldor as she possibly could, Maia slips out of bed to get ready. Tonight is the night. She's already contacted Thor and Sif for a one way trip to Asgard, or rather the World Tree specifically. She's dressed in her omyouji garb, her robe completely white as she looks towards the bed, a picture of her with her family on the night stand.

"From this picture I keep; you, my parents, look out and you smiles show no scorn. I am happy today, for I know what to do and my heart is not torn. Spirits know when to fly, when it's time. There's no reson to mourn, for the great sacred bird is reborn…" she says softly, taking a deep breath as she clutches the picture for a few moments before resting it back onto the nightstand. She then looks towards Haldor with a warm smile as she continues to whispers softly as she brushes her fingers against his cheeks.

"From the ashes he'll rise and upon his wide wings, I'll watch you from above, I will never be far…"

She leans over and places a soft kiss on his forehead before she starts to rush out. It's time and she does what's needed to open up the gateway to Yggdrasil. With a sacrificial dagger in her hand, she steps through and wooshes off to the world tree. Melodramatic, I know.

So very melodramatic! Transport to the world tree does not actually wind up involving any bloody sacrifices, given the foreign nature of her ichor those passages might not work for her anyways. Waiting upon the roof of her building however is a brilliantly white horse, looking faintly peevish for the lack of good grazing grass upon the rooftop. It's easy enough to mount, galloping off the roof and into the sky beyond. Soon beneath it there is only rainbow, multihued light, the sound of equine hoofs upon it ringing like crystals and echoes of color and sound somehow mingling about the pair to swirl. Then, soon, coming into the sight is the tree itself. It looks worse than the last time it was seen, time has passed and the forest spirit did say it could only be maintained so long. Bark has peeled off in an ugly strip along one side, limbs show hints of discoloration and disease. Moving around it's base is a far smaller tree, the tiny chibi spirit left here last time has grown larger, legs composed of spindly branches looking too long for it's body like an adolescent whose form does not quite fit.

Of course, right before she left, Maia left a note on the side of the bed. Sadness, but moving on!…

Okay! So it was a horse instead. She landed on the immaculately white horse with an oomph. She scrunches up her nose as she covers her eyes a bit at the multihued light. It's difficult to adjust after being in the dark for a bit and eventually, there's the World tree before her. There's a look of sheer horror on her features as she jumps off and starts running towards the smaller tree, the tiny chibi spirit. She chews on her bottom lip as she falls to her knees in front of the great tree spirit.

"I apologize for taking so long. It was difficult to get the ichor and I had to find a proper time to when I could be here instead of Haldor." she says softly, showing the bottle of Gaia's ichor along with the sacrificial dagger.

"Please, tell me what I must do to make this all right again."

The spirit looks exhausted. If you have seen the news with images of Doctors in Haiti, this is what the chibi spirit looks like. Exhausted. Worn. It's own bark showing signs of wear, a certain dried out frailty to those limbs where before there was only life and vigor. "Not too late" it says, voice whispery as the wind through the trees, "No not too late. Not yet. It lives still. It would not otherwise. A spindly limb reaches out to accept the vial of ichor. "Bleed. First. Into roots. Walk around tree three times bleeding all the way. While you do so I will do what I must."

There is something she must do! Let the dramatic music play! She takes a deep breath and scrunches her nose a little as she nods, slowly moving towards the tree itself. Maia takes a deep breath. There's fear. She's scared. She really doesn't want to die. That much is clear in her features, but the alternative is even worse for her.

Slash! There's a hiss of pain as she runs the dagger over her wrist and lets the droplets of blood fall onto the ground. Soon it's flowing more and more as she cut a vein and starts to walk around, letting the blood flow as the ribulets of crimson ichor and human blood stains her outfit before flowing out on the ground. And she starts to walk around the tree. Dead woman walking.

Meanwhile the Forest Spirit has slowly opened up the vial, the contents churning and roiling furiously, it may not be a teacup but there is certainly a tempest in it. A green glow begins to suffuse the area, a muted filter put over everything and drops of cold rain begin to fall. As it does the blood dripping from Maia begins to do more than simply flow onto the ground. Where it touches the earthy soil it sparks, little miniature flashes of green, the faintest whiff of pines in summer, of spanish moss in the south, of damp earth of Norway. There is a building sense of energy, of solemnity, by blood and by ichor combined there is something of ritual here.

Slowly she continues to walk around the tree three times. Considering the girth of the trunk,it is a slow and arduous process, her skin becoming pale like that of a porcelain doll in the process. Maia still continues to go through as she can, needing to finish the ritual. By the time she walks the third circle, she falls to her knees, looking much paler than before. "There, what next?" she asks softly.

Nearly half the vial has been emptied now, and the Forest Spirit looks at her with what seems to be sadness in the wooden features of what passes for it's face. "You have a few minutes. If you wish to take them." it says not without sympathy. "For what you start next cannot be undone. The tree has drank of your blood, it has tasted of Gaia's ichor. When you are ready hold the vial to your injury. Let the ichor flow into you. You and it shall be as one, and all the damage that has been done unto it might be instead done unto you." It twitches a bit, "It will.. hurt. The ichor. The transfer. It will hurt more than anything you have ever known."

Slowly she becomes pale and she nods. She swallows abit nervously. "What will happen to me when I take her ichor? The transfer? What will become of me?" Maia asks, her tone barely above a whisper. There's fear in her voice, but she's already gone beyond the point of no return.

"It will impact those purely human parts of you first" The Forest Spirit says, "That blood in you will boil. Maybe literally. Probably literally. Your divine flesh will not yield to that alone, not fissure or rupture but you will feel it within. Then, later, your divine ichor will join it. Flowing through you. Igniting. Burning. It will be like a poison coursing through your veins, overwhelming each organ as it comes to it. Shutting it down. Killing it. Life may grow out of the death, snapping your bones, shattering the skin. If the ichor alone does not do that, the tree surely shall." Head twitching to the side, "It shall carry you up into it's limbs, branches wrapping around you, digging into you. Even as life slips out of you it will flow into it. Rapidly, at first, but then slow, then slower."

Did she really want to know that? It's too late once more. Maia scrunches up her nose as she chews on her bottom lip, mulling it over once more. She winces a little as she swallows a bit nervously. Her hand shakes as she takes the bottle of ichor. Fear and trepidation are obvious in her features before she brings it towards her wrists slowly, hissing when her own blood and ichor mixes with that of Gaia's.

It is if anything even worse than the Forest Spirit described. Gaia's ichor meets Maia blood and there is a cascade of green sparks almost like an arc welder has just ignited and then that fire is moving inside of her swimming through her veins. This is not "like" anything, it is foreign, alien, wrong, and it is all coiling up and knotting inside her. Intensely painful, at first, and then less so as nerves and synapses begin to overload. Gaia's ichor is changing her. Will change her. But that is when it brings life, and right now all it brings is a slow death. Compared to what is going on inside the first of the roots of the great tree spearing into her leg, penetrating divine flesh and lodging deep into muscle feels almost like a pinprick, a second wraps around her arm to tug her closer to the trunk snapping it in the process.

It is not all about gruesome death. Not all tragedy. That long stretch of barren bark begins to heal, the stretch of dead and barren trunk becoming smaller and smaller as healthy new bark closes in on it. In the topmost branches leaves begin to show, small, newly formed but so very different than the stark barrenness that existed before. Death and life, give and take, to the sound of gently falling raindrops.

Back on Earth, Haldor drifts in and out of consciousness. Something niggles at the back of his brain, something is wrong with his surroundings. He can't quite put a finger on what though - falling asleep and waking up again repeatedly certainly doesn't help matters. It slowly occurs to him though that there isn't a normal, comforting presence behind him on the bed.

Within seconds of that realization and just how much time must have passed with him drifting in and out of sleep, Haldor's icy blue eyes snap open. It's not uncommon for Maia to get up early these days, to get breakfast going for the whole apartment or to practice her violin, but Drake and Black Frost have taken over her place on the bed. Haldor's eyes narrow as he reaches out to snatch the slightly slobbery, ice-slickened piece of paper upon which Maia wrote her note to him.

There's a scream of agony. Wait, that's not even adequate to describe what she's feeling right now. It's a scream that would cause even the souls in Hades and Yomi to shiver in fear of what is causing that sort of sound. It's a shriek as she shivers, the pain overwhelming her body. The ichor of the Titan Avatar courses through her veins taking over. It's worst than a poison. it's more like a virus that threatens to tear her apart from the inside out.

And that's what it's doing. It's tearing her apart from the inside as organs begin to melt from what should not be there. This is not right. Yet ironically it is. In her pain, in her agony, in her sacrifice the World Tree heals. Like the sacrifices of many world religions, it's apropos that through her suffering gives new life, and she flutters back and forth in consciousness.

Meanwhile, back on Earth.

The note is simple. It's on pink stationary in the shape of a heart. It reads:

Dearest Haldor,

I am happy today for I know what to do; and my heart is not torn. Spirits know when to fly when it's time; there's no reson to mourn, for the great sacred bird is reborn. From the ashes he'll rise and upon his wide wings, I'll watch you from above. I will never be far. No one can stop what I must do, my love, I swear I'll give my life for you.

Always yours, Maia

After those first waves of initial trauma things get.. easier. There is time for delirium to set in. The pain does not go away, no, but it becomes the subtle backdrop hum of the universe. The last poignant reminder that one is alive, something to be grateful for when one is facing death so very soon. The tree continues to draw upon her life, and shall do so until she has none left to give.

In all the long history of The World, Haldor suspects that no one has ever hurled themselves out of bed and gotten dressed in quite so much of a hurry before. He hurtles out of the room after tying knots into the laces of his boots to hold them in place on his feet, still pulling on his silksteel hoodie as he surges with impossible speed toward the apartment's front door. The Viking has never felt such terrible urgency as he feels this minute, grabbing Johanssen and his sunglasses from a table without missing a step, slinging them on almost haphazardly.

As Johanssen complains, Haldor adjusts the straps on his bracer, *WHOOSH*ing out the door of the apartment almost before the poor kami can open it. He snarls a nearly incomprehensible statement to Johanssen, something about danger and Maia that quiets the dvergar spirit within while adding stil more urgency to Haldor's footfalls as he takes to the roof. Vainly Haldor hopes that Thor and Sif, in their infinite wisdom in providing Maia a way to return to Yggdrasil alone, sent something to ferry him to the World Tree as well.

No. There is no one waiting for him on the rooftop. There is no one from the Aesir anyway. Instead Sojobo stands on the top noticing the rushing Haldor. There's a rather large dragon floating by next to him. How the mortals cannot see him is beyond comprehension at this point, but there is a somber bow from the tengu.

"There is an opening. A rift between this world and that where Yggdrasil is contained. Head to the black forests of Germany and you will find it. You have my condolences." the old man says, bowing respectfully towards the Thorson, even offering the dragon should he require it.

Oh good, there's a Sojobo and Tatsu at the edge of the roof. Haldor plants his feet on the growing wave of ice being exuded by his feet and skids across the roof to meet Sojobo with a deep bow of respect. The Viking vaults over Sojobo and onto Tatsu's back, though he doesn't sit.

"Thank you, sensei," replies Haldor before he patpats Tatsu on the neck. This is, apparently, intended to put Tatsu into motion in spite of Haldor not taking a seat upon the great dragon's back. Intercontinental dragon surfing sounds like a great addition to the X-Games, doesn't it?

It seems Sojobo knew this would happen. Or did Maia tell nhim? Who knows. Either way, Tatsu starts to curl before disappearing in a flash. There's no traveling. Instantaneously Haldor and the dragon are over the black forests of Germany once more where night is day, or at least early morning.

He undulates underneath the Viking, much like a wave would. This is dragon surfing most definitely! And with that, there's the portal. "Only you can pass through. It is meant for one with your blood." the dragon speaks into Haldor's mind before 'parking' in front of the swirling rift..

"… Since when can you just do Instant Transmission? Don't you nee- No. No, Haldor. Bad. Rift first, be gallant second, get answers last."

The Viking surges forward and ramps off of Tatsu's head and backfilps as he disappears into the great and terrible swirling rift. Haldor sails through The Never for what seems like an instant and an eternity, his body executing the flip with all of the grace of a cat. Whenever and wherever he arrives, Haldor is likely to land on his feet on a new wave of ice.

"I only reveal my true powers when in dire need." the dragon tells Haldor before slipping through the rift.

It's an experience, but soon Haldor will find himself back at Yggdrasil. Instead of the area being decaying and dying, it's lush with new life. New growth. Plants surrounding the base of the tree growing from the decayed bark and ichor. Of course he'll see the same 'teenage' tree spirit now who would look better, if a bit weary as well. There is no surprise on the spirit's features when the Viking arrives. The spirit just remains somber and calm, not saying anything.

Crumpled at the base of the tree over by it's roots is Maia. There's cuts where her skin has torn from her ichor mingling with that of a Titan's. She's drifting in and out of consciousness, but fortunately, 'DOIN FINE' makes her look a lot better than she really is. Even in death she'll be pretty. She's unaware that he's there though as she's a lot more pale from before, though there's a bit of a greenish hue to her skin, even with her blood still pouring out of her wrist into the ground.

Haldor lands on his feet and skids across the revitalized landscape on a slowly diminishing wave of ice. The Viking quickly sets back into motion once more, running toward Maia. Silence is lost upon Haldor, the Viking dropping to his knees in front of her, one hand reaching out toward her slowly.

"Maia? What's… What's going on?"

Long distance to Jason: Maiawaits for the spirit to interject?
Jason pages: Nah. He did not ask the spirit anything. Dying lovers. The spirit is being respectfully quiet.
You paged Jason with 'K.'


Her voice is weak at this point, her life force still being drained by the World Tree itself. She's becoming more pale with each passing minute and her breathing is becoming weaker as well. She lets her fingers entwine with his own, her grip weaker than before.

"I fixed the World Tree. Everything will be better." she says, forcing a smile onto her lips.

"I thought I was going to be doing this, beautiful? I made the mess, I should clean it up."

Haldor holds Maia's hand gently with his, his icy blue eyes gazing into her dying eyes. For the moment, Haldor doesn't seem to know quite what to do. Certainly he doesn't know what to say to this. Tears faintly start to well up in his eyes as he stares at her.

"I can't let you do that. Besides, I've already been to the underworld, it's no big deal.."

Maia coughs as she tries to add a little bit of levity to the situation once more.She smiles and scrunches up her nose as she looks towards the Viking.

"Don't cry for me. IF you do then I'll cry. You have to be strong, okay? I know you're strong. You're all muscley.."

"I'm sorry, Maia. If I hadn't acted so stupidly you wouldn't be in this mess…"

Haldor trails off with a quiet sigh. The Viking glances down at the ground, squeezing Maia's hand very gently with his own as he fights back tears. It takes him a few moments to regain enough composure to look Maia in the eyes again.

"No need t'apologize, Hal. I'm sorry too. We won't get to have that white picket fence and two point five kids. Just have to deal with the point five.."

Of course she means Black Frost and Drake by that. She scrunches up her nose as she starts to drift in and out of consciousness as she peers up towards him, smiling as brightly as she can.

"Don't be sad, okay? Promise me you won't be sad."

"I promise. I won't be sad. I won't cry. Just for you."

No. Haldor will just be mad, murderously so no doubt, instead of sad or teary-eyed. The Viking stands by, holding Maia's hand as he watches her. For the moment he waits, watching for her to pass on and her ichor to become one with Yggdrasil and seal the health of the World Tree.

Murder can come after she has passed.

"Don't fret, okay? I just wanna sleep. Then I'll wake up and I'll make you breakfast in the morning…"

She's already delerious. The blood loss has gotten to her and she starts to drift once more. Her gripe weakens by the second, as she remains smiling as her eyes open once more.

"Love you." she whispers. And suddenly, all is quiet. There's no sound. She stop breathing. The World Tree is healed.

Haldor stays there for a long, long while. Maia is gone, he's pretty sure of that, when he leans in and kisses the back of her still, cold hand. Slowly Haldor gets to his feet and reaches back to flip up the hood of his hoodie, head bowed low.

"Love you too, Maia. I love you too."

The Viking twists, his icy gaze falling upon the 'teenage' tree beside Yggdrasil and Maia for a blistering instant. It passes quickly as Haldor surveys his surroundings carefully for several moments more. Finally the Viking turns back to Yggdrasil and stalks up to its healed trunk. Silent as the grave, Haldor starts to climb.

"What are you doing?"

The Great Tree spirit is concerned. There was already one sacrifice to fix the broken World Tree. And now it's being climbed nupon by one of the Aesir. This cannot be good. The tree spirit just stares at the Viking waiting for a response.

"Looking for Ratatoskr."

Haldor doesn't lose a step as he climbs into the Greatest of Ash Trees. The Viking does pause, after several long moments, to peer over his shoulder at the Great Tree Spirit.

"What are you doing?"

Skitter skitter. There's a bit of a scurrying sound on the branches of the World Tree itself. Deciding to not play hide and seek at this time, the squirrel appears on a branch not too far away from the Viking, chittering as he peers at Haldor curiously.

He cants his head to the side and just remains there quiet, as if Haldor will explain himself. "You were looking for me?"

"Yes. You know the gossip of the tree. You know what word the eagle perched upon the highest of Yggdrasil's branches bears for Nidhoggr. I wager you also know the comings and goings along the many boughs."

Haldor stares at Ratatoskr, the Viking rather impossibly perched upon the side of the tree trunk as he stares the squirrel down. Clearly there is a question waiting to be asked, but first… First Haldor seems to want to make sure of his knowledge.

"That would be the case yes. I know all these things and more."

The chittering squirrel seems to bepleased by that knowledge. It continues to peer and study Haldor, his nose twitching all cute like. He'd be cute if he wasn't ginormously big.

Haldor fixes his icy blue eyes on those of Ratatoskr. If he could, Haldor would likely reach out and grab the squirrel by its lapels and hold him close for a proper Batman-style interrogation, hanging off of the side of Yggdrasil.

"Where. Is. Kamui?"

Few. It is a good thing there is no lapel on the squirrel. It chitters for a few moments as it's brows raise as it starts crawling towards Haldor for a few moments. It hops from branch to branch until it's only a few feet from him and soon, it points down.

"Down there."

And as Haldor looks in that direction he can see a man dressed in all black. He's dressed in the robes of an omnyouji as well and he peers down at Maia's lifeless form, muttering something. A mudra perhaps? A prayer? A blessing? Or a curse? Whonkows? But there are ofuda in his hands.

"I'll have to owe you one Hel of an acorn, Ratatoskr," is Haldor's cold reply.

The Viking skitters across the surface of Yggdrasil as nimbly as he can, which is not nearly so nimble as David could, directly into the shadows cast by the branch upon which Ratatoskr sits. Haldor vanishes in the wink of an eye, reappearing in Kamui's shadow.

Well, that's not entirely true. Haldor actually reappears by /LEAPING/ out of of Kamui's shadow and attempting to punch the Corrupted Scion in the back of his head. Needless to say, this is not a friendly gesture.


The fist makes contact at ridiculous speeds, possibly even breaking the sound barrier as it sends a limp ragdoll like body of the dark omnyouji slamming into the tree. This time, there are no cracks as Kamui appears dazed for a few moments and coughs alittle, definitely winded. He isn't hurt thanks to his zen attitude about not getting hurt by things he isn't aware of as he just coughs and stares at the angry Viking.

"I am just here to offer my condolences. I know how it feels to lose a loved one."

"So do I. It fucking sucks like DC's attempt at The Death of Superman or the short form of Marvel's Death of Captain America."

Haldor flexes the hand that just punched Kamui as he speaks, the Viking regarding his palm with uncharacteristic attention. Slowly his icy blue eyes turn their gaze toward Kamui, sliding up the onmyouji's form with a thoughtful consideration that seems almost inconsistent with Haldor's normally high energy persona.

"But you know what? I don't really care about your pretty words, your empathy, or your sudden interest in paying respect to the woman you tried to kill what? Two, three times?"

Cold mist starts to pour off of Haldor's hands as his skin goes pale, cracking in places as he summons up tremendous cold. His ring glows an ominously chilling shade of blue for a few moments before dimming back to normal. Evenly, Haldor regards Kamui as he starts to take slow steps forward.

"Right now, I just feel like expressing my grief. I feel like expressing myself until your head is a greasy smear on the ground."

"You don't honestly mean that. I can crush you. Or rather drive you insane until you kill yourself."

There's a wry grin curling on the olderman's features at the thought of driving Haldor insane. But for now he doesn't do anything about it.

"I will simply blame your loss for such harsh words. But if you want to see her again, I can arrange that for you. You would like to see her again, wouldn't you?" he asks, his brows furrowed as he looks directly towards the Viking, a coy smirk on his features.

"Don't I? You're the fuckwit that got me to break Yggdrasil in the first place. Good job on that, by the way. By the transitive property, you're the reason that Maia's dead now. And, let me just double check my figures here."

Haldor casually strikes a thoughtful pose, making random gestures in the air in front of his face for about two seconds. Promptly he snaps into his murderous stance again and glowers at Kamui.

"Yeah. Your ass still needs killin'. Maybe this time you'll have the common courtesy to stay the fuck dead."

"If P implies Q and Q implies R, then by that logic, yes I did cause her death. Albeit indirectly…" he says witha sage nod.

Kamui doesn't seem too apologetic or sad about that fact. He just shrugs his shoulders and chuckles once more. He hrmms for a few moments while peering towards the Viking once more.

"So on this sad day, you would ruin her sacrifice to save the World Tree by battling me here? So the World Tree can only get damaged again and need the sacrifice of someone else?" he says with his brows furrowed. "Let us not make her sacrifice in vain, Haldor Englund." he says with a sage nod.

There's a flick of his wrist and soon there's a calligraphy brush in his hand. He starts to draw something in the air, though if Haldor is truly perceptive he'll notice that it's the kanji for CHAOS.

"If you wish to fight me, then I will acquiesce. You will join her immediately afterwards." he nquips as a swirling red portal opens in front of him and he steps through.
From afar, Haldor cuddles and licks. "Love you, babe. Have a great day tomorrow. I'll see you in the evening."
Haldor has disconnected.

"Oh look. He opened a portal to Hundun, Titan Realm of Chaos. I am /SHOCKED/. Clearly I was unprepared for such a display of power and malevolence from him."

Haldor's voice is so mocking he can't even sound sarcastic. Instead he just sounds insane and, perhaps, even a bit evil himself. The Viking shrugs and twists a few times, popping cricks out of his body before he launches into the portal. For the interminable instant that he brushes Infinity within the portal before he emerges into Hundun, Haldor considers how much cooler this would be if it had a Stargate travel sequence.

The FX budget is unlimited for this, but still, there's no Stargate travel sequence. Still where Haldor ends up is chaos. Hundun has no features. It has no size, no shape, no distinction between “here” and “there.” It is light and dark, wet and dry, roused to furious motion and utterly static and unchanging. Perceiving such a paradox of Being and Nothingness crushes mortal minds in an instant and even the gods find it difficult to comprehend as well. Chaos starts to swirl around him, threatening to rip him apart from the very core of his being, as he can feel the threads of fate around him unravel. However, he maintains keeps his identity, and he tugs on his threads of fate, keeping him whole in this place.

A disembodied voice can be heard. It's Kamuis but he's no where to be seen. In fact, it's difficult to see anything as it's like you're having a convulsion from sparkly Pikachus or something like that.

"You've kept your sense of self even as you arrive. That is impressive." he says mockingly.

The disembodied voice continues to chuckle and mock. "Visitors to Hundun tend to project their own thoughts onto the Elder Chaos, though. Hundun mirrors their thoughts, building fantasy-realms based on the visitor’s desires, fears and obsessions, and even loves. It seems your mind is as chaotic as Hundun himself."

Haldor finds himself in unfathomable infinite nothing. No light, no dark, no up, no down, no… Nothing. For a moment, just a moment, the Viking finds himself confused by the experience. And then he feels the strands of fate, the coils of his divine power really, getting tugged away from him. Given the situation, Haldor cannot let that happen.

A muderous war cry erupts from Haldor's throat as he thrusts his hands and feet outward. Haldor's trying to find a landmark, something - anything - for him to really fix his attention on. It doesn't take long for his brain to fill with images of home - the only home he's ever cared to call home at any rate - in New York City. That is to say, as Haldor focuses himself and draws his power inward, back into himself, New York City starts to resolve into being beneath Haldor's feet.

Floating in air doesn't trouble Haldor in the least, he has flown practically since he was first Visited after all, but the resolving landscape is vaguely troubling. As is Kamui's mocking, disembodied voice, but that is a wholly different issue. Rage filters into Haldor's brain as Kamui continues to talk and, as a result, New York City starts to burn.

The Hudson River turns nuclear green and the East River becomes a boiling moat of something that is definitely not normal water. Blood fills the lakes and ponds of Central Park, bubbling and sizzling as though it were on a hot plate. Skyscrapers turn to towering monoliths spewing flame into a chemical-warped sky and the city streets get lined with Kamuis. Hundreds of thousands of Kamuis shuffling about everywhere, a lone Maia crucified burns phosphorous and LEDs on the giant screens of Times Square while all the little Kamuis shuffle about their dim, meager existence.

And, upon the horizon, there looms a Viking fleet. Its ships are carved of icebergs and its sails, full with the strongest sea wind there can be, are made of naught but shadow. Faintly Haldor's magnified auditory nerves can pick up the beating of war drums, fast approaching an unsuspecting city. Of Kamui.

Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaah. Haldor might not have the best mental status right now. What with the Long Island Sound and the Atlantic Ocean being made of liquid quicksilver that reflects the nightmare staccatto of dayglo colors the toxic sky is colored.

It's hell on earth. Or at least hell on New York City. The city is tattered in ruins as Hundun tries to exert his own control over the land scape. The buildings are burning. The skyscrapers are falling apart. There are the loud cries of those he loves being tortured. In the distance he can see his mother being ripped apart by the multiple Kamuis.

Down where she's crucified in Times Square, the Kamuis are stabbing at her stomach, water flowing from her torso. Then the chaos continues to flood his mind. Just how Maia suffered when she sacrificed herself fills his mind, burning it's image into his brain. Kamui is not cruel, but Hundun is, wanting to break those who enters his realm. THere's a reason why he doesn't have any avatars, for he is primordial chaos itself, and the fact that Haldor is resisting is troublesome.

Still, in his mind's eye Haldor is bombarded with images of his fiance's brutal fate. He can hear her screams of pain as her body literally rips apart form the inside. How the Great Tree Spirit merely watched as Gaia's ichor melted her organs, how it dissolved her bones and very nearly drove her insane from the pain and anguish she was feeling. Hundun tries to make it a sort of empathic link, trying to give Haldor this pain as well as if to try to dissolve away what he is trying to create, wanting to burn away the order within his chaos.

In the air over Manhattan, Haldor's body flickers and shifts. The Viking ripples with his power and the powers being levied against him. And through it all, Haldor's pure, undistilled rage seems to be what keeps him sane. When Hundun subjects Haldor to Maia's emotions and her pain as Gaia's ichor floods her body and dissolves her, destroys her from within, Haldor's blood just boils hotter and the landscape below him shakes with his pain.


Lightning flashes overhead as Haldor clutches his head, fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to draw blood as the Viking's fury starts to mount higher still. He breathes deep and fast, snarling and nearly frothing at the mouth as he supes upon the pain that consumes his body and mind, fueling his fury and intensifying his focus. It's not pretty, but really, when is anything Haldor does pretty?

At Haldor's yell of anguish, the clouds in faux New York start to gather. Is he bringing them together or is something else coming, manifesting from the hatred that is Hundun. As the clouds gather, black pea sized globoules fall onto the ground, splattering and looking like poisoned blood.

It starts off at the pace of a drizzle at first, but soon becomes a full storm of pea sized black gloubules that starts to form puddles on the streets of New York, crowded around the crucified form of Maia. Already, the black liquid starts to form something. It forms sickening beasts, dogs really made of flesh and bone. They're rabid and they're hungry and soon they bite and tear into the poor body of Maia, threatning to rip her apart completely eviscerating her. This is Hundun's purpose. To drive Haldor mad.

Haldor revels in the rain. The rain is his great and terrible friend, even if this black rain brings still more pain for the pseudo-Maia in Haldor's post-apocalyptic New Kamui City. Instead of descending toward Hundun's murderous beasts, Haldor points his head toward what he believes to be the sky and howls his ravenous fury.


The Viking whips himself into a miniature cyclone. Wind whips around him as he builds up speed, the black globules starting to get sucked into the vortex of wind about his body. Haldor howls in vengeful glee as he builds his speed ever higher before he suddenly pivots and angles toward Times Square. In a blaze of speed and fury, Haldor plows toward Times Square like some kind of IDRM - InterDimensional RAGE Missile - hell bent on… On.

Wait, what /IS/ Haldor's plan? He's just plunging toward Times Square at high speed with a huge mass of black /STUFF/ caught in his wake. Aaaaaand *WHA-THOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM* goes the Haldor as he crashes into the ground with such tremendous force the ground actually ripples outward from his point of impact. The Viking digs a crater that seems to just go on forever as its tremendous force pulses outward through the core of the City, the ground rippling and quaking from the force of Haldor's meeting with the heart of Times Square.


And in a flash, all the black globoules around Haldor disappears. Even though he's still spinning, the globuoules are gone, digging deepinto the earth as he's soon surrounded by darkness. It's damp where he is, but even with his night eyes there's no features that he can see. He's in a terrible void, the abyss of sorts even, having been struck down as he's banished into another realm, the oubliette of darkness.

"He serves me. I will delight in unraveling your pattern, Viking. Your anguish, your rage, all has summoned me before in the real world. I offer you a chance, to remake you into something more. I can unravel you and remake you, morepowerful than Kamui even if you are willing to become mine."

Another abyss; at least this one isn't yet ripping at his "pattern" yet. That's something, Haldor supposes as he smolders with a great big ball of murderous fire in the very core of his being. Haldor sneers into the darkness, flexing his left hand into the Viking Fist for several long seconds before he decides that it's not yet time to release his power.

"Tch. Tug all you want, man, you ain't gonna get very far until I have wrenched Kamui's head and spine clean out of his body and jam his still beating heart into his own lying, cheating, dumb ass mouth. Now either fucking let me kill his ass or kill his fucking ass for me."

"Kamui is a god now. Rather he is an avatar, a being higher than a god. You think you can defeat him? It is suicide."

The voice scoffs for a bit before suddenly there is silence once more. Things start to coalesce in the darkness. There's a light not too far. As Haldor gets closer to the light he can hear the roars and the cheers and jeers from outside. And suddenly, there's a bright light.

Haldor finds himself in a colliseum of sorts. Surrounded and gathered in the stands is a tall, powerfully-built man with the hooves and head of an ox, four eyes and six arms. He wears bronze armor and a fearsome helmet adorned with an aureole of blades. He stares down at Haldor, letting out a faint snort as the area itself is surrounded by an energy of some sort.

On the other end is Kamui, a cocky grin curling onto his lips. This time he isn't surrounded by the five elemental spirits which he had summoned before. He's dressed in all black in the same fashion that Maia was dressed in when she sacrificed her life. In his hands are black ofuda as he peers towards Haldor and gives him a respectful, perfectly 90 degree bow.

"I will send your soul to the afterlife where perhaps you may find peace once more. Maybe Maia will be waiting for you."

Haldor pads along toward the light, his fury growing by the moment as his brain runs through the whole situation again and again. As he enters the colliseum proper, Haldor lets his icy blue eyes flicker to and fro to consider his surroundings carefully. Interesting place to find an energy field, he muses, but not unexpected all things considered.

The Viking puts on his sunglasses with one hand and draws his drumsticks with the other hand. He knows just what Kamui's ofuda can do, after all, they have shown down with Speed 1 weapons before. Even so, Haldor feels compelled to execute an equally perfect bow to Kamui. Just because Haldor aims to kill a man, it doesn't mean he has to be disrespectful to the culture that bred him and his brand of crazy.

"Or will it be that I will send your soul to the afterlife - again - where it will be chained into place and made to suffer for your crimes?"

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