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+ S P E N C E R +




Traveler.   Magician.     Dragon Rider.     Swordsman.   Librarian.

H u m a n  //  E l f

A g e l e s s - U n k n o w n

H e / H i m  T h e y / T h e m

S p i r i t ?  D e c e a s e d .

N o  K i n  L e f t  - A m o n g  f r i e n d s .




You might be wondering how this could have happened… 

Spencer knows little of his origin. Date of birth. Where he was born. What grounds he walked upon in his youth. He knows not of his father, not the color of his mother's eyes. Even the man's own name comes as a mystery he woke up without. The one he bares presently was something ... given, after he found himself awake midst a plane of grass he did not recognize, all the same. What Spencer did remember, however, was a sensation. The coldness, as it had grasped hold of him. It felt as if falling into an utterly heavy, yet peaceful sleep... He knew little of what he was, let alone who. He started walking. There was nothing else that could be done. He had risen in a prairie-esque plane that seemed to spread onward no matter what direction his head would turn. Spencer walked until he reached a point of familiarity in the form of a small village some thirty kilometers from the place he had woken up within. The village came with hospitality, yet held very few hints. No answers.


“ To decipher it was one thing... Controlling it was another.  

For the early years, the world was an undoubtedly strange place. He recognized nothing of his surroundings or sense of self. He slowly came to the realization that he was capable of things beyond the average man whether he liked it or not. The capabilities, in the earlier times... lacked any direction or control. The occasional passing through objects was a problem that shook him not long since he had woken up. His form was corporeal, yet at times, only loosely. It was truly as if his body and soul wrestled to commit between a physical or spectral form without any indication of what kept them tethered. It would happen in a bout of panic, or the wrong twitch of a muscle. Often he couldn't recollect what seemed to cause the shift and changed his form to something far less physical and very much... ephemeral in nature. It would come over him like a cold mist, and left a tingling sensation throughout his nervous system. 


At first, it was just his fingertips. Then his wrists. Soon it was whole portions of his being that seemed to pass through its environment on a whim and leave him stricken with panic on how to make it stop, only to make matters worse. Spencer was stumbling straight through walls and phasing through objects on a whim during the early years of his newfound life, where the anomaly was creating more immediate questions than he had to start with. Among the strange symptoms, Spencer noticed how seldom he had felt exhaustion since he started waking. He walked for a few days from where he had started before he felt any urge to sleep, and hunger likewise. His body still felt the aches and pains of being alive, although it was as if it felt numb to what it truly meant. With every time he lost control of his form, the ends of his hair had quickly started to lose its color, spare a short length closest to the roots. These changes among others brought forth a rough transitional period where he struggled to have a grasp on anything around him. Eventually, these skills were to be trained with the right amount of mastery over the years.






She called it a gift, like it was something given to the world.  

Spencer had come to a point where he had lost all sense of what to do with his situation. Time dragged onward for longer than a lifetime, and he was faced with the realization of immortality that grew more evident as the number counted upward. He had traveled, he had remembered and forgotten countless names, and yet found no answers as to what had occurred. His nomadic life eventually took him South, across the seas and over mountains in pursuit of anyone that might offer information. His first encounter that could offer such things came from his passing through the bustling streets of Amsterdam in the early 1600s. He met a curious soul. The woman seemed to stare him down from a distance like she could sense just what he felt to be off about himself. She spoke questions and statements that felt like they were pulled straight from his head, and for the first time in his immortal life, he had answers.

“  You are a spirit, my dear boy. You are as real as this world around you, and yet this world does not own you. You will watch its trees rise and fall with each passing life. You shall experience beyond that of your fellow man. How will you use this gift? This curse? Will you choose to see it like so?  

Natalia was a practitioner of magic, and most adept in her craft. She was the person to shed light on Spencer's spectral dilemma, possible heritage, and one of the few that looked at him like his claims were not outright insanity. She introduced him to her studies and assisted him in utilizing the magic that had been gifted at birth and recessive in his veins all those years.
Spencer spent the next decade or so under her wing in Amsterdam, researching just what the nature of his origins might have been, and learning to utilize that magic for healing purposes when the world greatly needed it. When it came time to leave Amsterdam and continue on with his searching, he was promised a place in the city should he ever return, if he were to look for it. 

To this day, he isn't sure what she is, or where her knowledge she possesses has come from. Any questioning throughout the years was met with riddles or parables to send him in circles. In the seldom times he finds himself in the region, he is sure to make his visit to the woman who has changed as little as he has over the centuries. She remains a mentor, good friend, and the first one to confirm he wasn't crazy all along. Following his departure from the Netherlands, he resumed his traveling for the next century or so, using what he had been taught at each stopping point as he went.




I paused only for a moment to ponder what was asked of me.

Fate brought him into the Nightwing Empire where his nomadic life changed for the next several centuries. It was an accidental stumbling into where two-legged kind stepped foot merely on occasion and the territory seemed to span onward without an end. He soon came to learn that within it dwells dangerous creatures and beasts alike. Dragons commanded the air, with their dens settled within the mountains and deep within the chasms of its valleys. Warbeasts lingered within the darkest of the forested regions and the swamps of the neighboring lowlands. The region came not without conflict, whether it was between the beasts, or from the external influence of hunters, slayers, or militant forces alike. Although prone to friction, wartime, and hardly a peace-filled place, soon enough he called the mountains and trees of the regions as home. He fit in among the vast array of species with ease and called them as friends.nfdjSTz.png?profile=RESIZE_400x

When fate would throw him into shock once more, Spencer eventually found himself worthy of being chosen as a Rider to one of the larger dragons within the Nightwing Empire. Chanook was someone who quickly had become familiar. While he had grown to no longer fear the dragon, Spencer ultimately came to regard him with the utmost respect. Due to his physicality, the man was not readily affected by the high altitudes, nor the storms that Chanook brought forth in flight. His first flights were among the more interesting moments during this era, but soon enough he had learned to stay steady in the sky with ease. Spencer set himself forth to become an excellent Rider and swordsman. With the skills learned, and the harsh environment the territory offered, Nightwing shaped Spencer as a formidable fighter when he would need it, and a peacekeeper at his core when he did not.

All truly great things come at a risk of being lost.  

As the conflict would eventually come to pass, the territory now shows signs of its age and scars. The enemies have long departed. The hostile beasts settled their disputes, and all in all... with the conclusion of such hostile events, the territory was left with an odd amount of silence. The Empress came to rest at the bottom of one of Nightwing's lakes. Her second in command, Skya, rests in a shrine-like state deep in her mountain den. Spencer still watches over the late dragoness' horde of a library and doctors their pages in his passing time. Among the absences and tragedies, Spencer had been parted from his dragon for reasons that still remain unknown. He knows little of Chanook's whereabouts, nor his condition. While Riders generally feel sensations of their partner's wellbeing or status, he feels little other than emptiness when he attempts to reach out. His only hint is that the connection can still be felt, leading him to believe his dragon is out there. The thoughts weigh heavily on his mind to the point where Spencer has achingly resorted to trying not to think about it at all. He keeps his hopes up to see the dragon's return, just as long as the connection is still felt.


And so we march on.

Following the fall of Nightwing, the man found himself in a period of travel that spanned several decades. Along with clearing his headspace, he was in pursuit of any hints or clues that may lead to Chanook's whereabouts no matter how small the chances might have been. The drawn-out journey nearly brought him across the Earth in doing so. The ex-Rider would pick up many other useful skills and mementos on his way. He heightened his mastery in a small variety of languages, as well as his study of healing magic that had been partially set aside during the last conflicts of the Empire. His traveling had become as much of a pilgrimage as it was a search for Chanook. He returned to hid home in Nightwing years later as a successful Swordsman, historian, and a more proficient Mage. Just as soon as he would settle, he also resumed his role as Librarian to the Nightwing collection as well as his own.

Thirty years have passed since Spencer returned to his home within Nightwing's Western edge of the territory, to which he comes and goes on occasion. Weapons of old battles have been set aside ever since. His shelves are littered with artifacts from his time spent traveling. A collection of books and magical supplies are stacked and housed just about everywhere to make the interior rather claustrophobic to newcomers. His home stands as something more likely to be found on accident than sought out, nestled in the trees. He resumes his studies rather diligently, hardly seen without a bag over his shoulder and a book within reach. His primary endeavor included fresh attempts at deciphering an old tome that had been entrusted to him by Skya prior to her passing.




I opened that book and Hell came from its pages... 


The book was a gift. He didn't know the importance at the time the dragoness gifted it into his hands. Skya spoke of the discovery in her collection, like it could offer the wandering spirit of a man all the answers he had been hunting for so long. Her eyes had seen something he has yet to find in its conflicting, cryptic pages. The book's author is unknown. As to the writing contained inside, one page to the next is a labyrinth of coded twists and turns that would leave any linguist or philologist perplexed. Over the years the man had all but given up on the object that sat dusty on the shelf over his workbench. It served as an old memory for a friend that had eventually passed on without granting him any more secrets on why she had given it to him in the first place.

“  It's always the furthest corner, the overlooked space... if history hasn't erased it.
Dark Arts and magical studies alike have not been a favorite of history.


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 I'll finish the war I never knew I started.  




On his person, there are a handful of items kept handy as a constant throughout the years. Spencer keeps a messenger bag slung over his shoulder that has considerable wear-and-tear to its edges. Despite it, the bag is laced with its own magical properties. Within it, a journal or two are usually kept to catalog what he comes across during his travel away from Nightwing, along with writing materials. Precariously, the longsword he carried as a Rider is hidden within the bag and can be pulled out at a moment's notice, defying the physics of the small bag when it appears in full. A small array of weapons and other survivalist material accompany it. A spare change of clothes or two is kept on standby. He keeps a spellbook handy with a series of useful spells, diagrams, incantations, and objects to assist, should he need them. He usually has a free-reading book, alongside the mysterious grimoire that has caused him misfortune over time. In more recent years, he also carries an outdated brick of a cell phone that he claims no expertise in using.

+ Now Carrying :
 [The Water Nation Handbook]  [Lore of The Invictus]
[The ??? Grimoire] [Traveler's Spellbook]  [Field Notes]



  And so, I learned to walk tall... 

but I walked taller among them than I ever was alone. 

Travelers.   Friends.   Mentors.    Comrades. 




 Spencer had his hands full from the moment he first encountered the Water Drake. He was traveling the coast of Nightwing when Tempest came barreling in, and proved to be the first sign of anything draconic that Spencer had seen in countless years. Tempest is considerably younger than the dragons the Ex-Rider had been accustomed to. While testing his patience at times, the Drake has sparked some life back in the melancholic rider after the years spent alone in the territory. The two have since teamed up in their traveling when Temp was not the only thing that washed up from the shore: with great fortune came great dangers when the threat of a tsunami means that something else is looming under the sea floor, threatening Nightwing's main land. The task of getting to the bottom of the disturbance has paired the two together, and effectively dragged Spencer out of his element. 




 The woman had Spencer's utmost curiosity from the moment they spoke to one another. She was all the things he didn't expect to run into on accident, but in truth, Cass was someone wrongfully drawn into his troubles at a time when he might have needed her most. Following a run-in late at night at a library, the night was filled with mischief for survival-sake. It was also filled with chatter when he realized she was a linguist, scholar, mage, and plenty of other things he has yet to decipher. The two are now travel partners as she graciously offered her skills to help him in deciphering the book in his possession that has proven to be most dangerous. Spencer worries about the reprocaution of bringing another person into his personal troubles with the book. On the same token, so rarely does he travel with someone so formidible. 





 Cael was met by pure circumstances of walking by a park bench at the right time to hear a phone ring. After taking up the task of returning it to the rightful owner, he now finds himself in Birdie's Emporium where the quaint storefront holds its promises to anyone that walks in. Spencer can sense something is strange about the woman, but hasn't quite placed what it is yet. Only time will tell what [More to come]. 




 The two met by chance during one of Spencer's rare visits to the city, where the library doors closed early and had locked the two in for the night. After becoming acquainted while sneaking back out using Spencer's abilities to do so, it took the walk back to the boy's apartment to decipher that the two had something in common. While Spencer had studied magic for a large portion of his life, Nemo's skillset held more promise than he could imagine at such a young age. Despite how long the two could have visited and chatted, their meeting was relatively short that night. Lone behold, the short meeting opened the door for a visit that would come a few years later when Spencer would need his assistance most [More to come].  





 Irrlith was a visitor to Nightwing not from another continent, but from the outer edges of space. Not much is known about the beast aside from his origins being somewhere distant and the looming fact that Earth's gravity is what trapped him here after a crash landing many, many years ago. The space beast has taken up refuge in the territory after conflict with humans and remained for quite some time under the Earth Nation's ground when Nightwing grew dormant. That was, until recently, when Spencer and Tempest woke the behemoth from its slumber in order to help them with the task of keeping the beast's second home safe. Not much is known about Irrlith's origins or biology, but he seems to have a sense of trust toward Spencer who is always looking for what he can learn about the brute. 




Raiya will forever be Spencer's best friend when it comes to two-legged kind. She resided in Nightwing well before he ended up there, and the two grew attached at the hip once Spencer had taken the oath as a Rider. Having once been one herself, she was responsible for much of his advice while training, as well as the swordsmanship he honed during that era. The two have fought, struggled, and laughed, and are always up to something when they cross each other's paths. Rai has since moved on from the territory and runs her supernatural shop known as Omnia. Spencer pays a visit on sparse occasions, allowing the two to pick up their friendship right where it leaves off. Time has changed how often they might see one another, but some things never change. 




No practitioner of magic is complete without a loyal familiar. Cloudfeather is a leucistic red tailed hawk that can often be seen in off in the distance whenever Spencer finds himself far enough from the cities for her to follow. The raptor is capable of flying miles on end when needed to deliver messages in times of need, or exchanges between Raiya and Spencer when they find themselves apart. Cloudfeather has a seemingly mystical connection with the man, when no matter where his travels take him she is bound to find where he is once called. The bird is clever beyond its appearance and reliable beyond measure. She leaves his side only when delivering, occasionally switching roles with Raiya's own hawk, Cyr




Having first gotten to know Zoriko as a hatchling, she is the daughter of Skya and a dragon of the sky underneath her human facade. The dragoness was someone Spencer had the privlege of re-acquainting with after his absence from the territory when she actively sought him out following the advice of another former Rider. After re-acquainting from when she was young, Spencer took upon himself the task of teaching her magic from the ground up, helping the young dragoness tap into the magic that flows through her veins just as his own mentor did for him. After some time of training together, the two eventually parted ways. To this day he hasn't seen Zoriko again, but thinks back to their magic lessons together fondly when it was a time that his house didn't seem quite as empty. 



 Until we meet again.  



 To this day, Spencer still looks back in wonder to the moment where he had been asked to become a Rider. His partner was none other than Chanook, a dragon of rolling thunder and electricity that stood as a general among war beasts in Nightwing. While others knew him as a goliath, to his Rider, he was a lumbering beast at times and above all, his guardian and most trusted friend. The two spent their days in close proximity and fought wars by one anothers' side. Following the last conflicts of the territory, the two became separated and the man has carried a hole in his chest ever since. Spencer still believes that Chanook is out there due to the feint, yet present connection between the two that has not yet been severed. As a result, he has an occasional knack for dropping what he is doing at the slightest hint of a lead toward his whereabouts. 




 Spencer saw much of the dragoness during the height of Nightwing, down unto the end. Sibling to Chanook, Skya was second in command to the Empress and was a formidable force come times of conflict. However, Spencer knew her first and foremost by the library hidden deep within her den near the center of the territory. He was a trusted visitor over time and has been responsible for the upkeep and mending of the books within it for countless years. He knows every main twist and turn to reach the hidden collection, down to the dragoness' den. Since her passing, the room has erupted with plant life, where she remains in a shrine-like state to present day. He vows to keep up his work of guarding the collection under her keep for as long as he is able. 




 The two first met in the earlier years of Spencer's settling in Nightwing as a crossing of paths, and they would come to meet again by the time the territory grew dormant. To the deities and spirits that had their eye on Novak, Spencer's spiritual nature being present was a trigger for alarm. Little did they know that their meeting would turn into a chase that would lead them to a chase that sent them cross-continent. The end of their trek lead them straight into the Underworld in order to settle the issue once and for all. As fate was never kind to either men before meeting, things hadn't gone as planned. What the spirit gained was his life and peace from being pursued. What he lost was the friend that had his back through it all. Spencer isn't sure what happened to Novak in the end, or whether he still exists somewhere in the realm below. The thought weighs heavily on his mind.   







[OOC: Things are coming together.] 


+ Active Threads :

Tempest  Water Nation Temple  |  "Did you say a sorcerer?"

Cassella  | Melbourne, State Library Victoria  |  "He's gone..?"

Raiya |  Letters via Hawks   |  "I'm so happy to see you."

 Brona (AU)Forest, ???   |  "Come on, we need to go."

Unity (AU)On The Highway   | "Who's side are they on?"


This character originates from around 2011-2012, and much of the lore and stories told originate from events written within that timeline until now. As a writer, especially with Spence here, I'm fairly lenient with response times. He is a 'support' character primarily, but I have a few goals I would like to finish in his plotline yet. Great starting locations include libraries, cafes, the woods, natural landmarks... although I can put Spencer anywhere, he has versatility in settings. | FC: Nariman Malanov 


Ghost Stories

Coming Soon..?


"Oh, don't leave me here alone
Don't tell me that we've grown
For having loved a little while."

I am open to new roleplay threads

Threads are Closed

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  • This place never failed to amaze him with its architecture, and it was difficult not to admire it during their trek. With how complicated its layout felt, he kept mentally reminding himself to avoid zoning out and simply keep following Yuna, however long it’d take.

    Once they arrived, the young reptile listened at what she had to say without any thoughts of interrupting, more than curious about what she had regarding ancient history he wasn’t even alive for. What times those must’ve been. A slight nodding motion was given by slightly raising his head up and down, keeping a more neutral expression as she gave more insight.

    “You’ve probably heard this a lot, but it really is a beautiful place out here. Didn’t think anything like it existed nowadays. The world above has been dying to the point there’s few places where anybody can hide from humans; Forests are disappearing, megafauna is going away, trash being dumped into oceans, overfishing, you name it.”

    Right before Yuna would part ways, she was given a response from her slightly larger guest, who turned his head forward. “Will do, and thanks for sharing all that stuff with me by the way. Sleep well later.” He’d say to give the female his goodbyes, shifting his head back as the Monarch took her march back to where she came.

    Now facing forward again, his gills fluttered until Tempest stepped forward, in which he’d begin floating normally once out of range from gravity. From there on, his finned tail would sway side-to-side for propulsion, soon gaining a little altitude. A series of clicks would be given so he could find the location of a certain Brute they nearly forgot about, and wherever he was, the beast would swim there.

    . . .

    Regardless of where the Extraterrestrial Dragon had wandered off to, or if he’d gone to those dens close by, the sea drake would eventually discover him again. An approach was made from his right side, ever so casually swimming about.

    His motions ceased, allowing the momentum to carry him closer instead since it was adequate. The sea drake had lowered and pressed his snout into Irrlith’s neck three times in order to get his attention in case the brute wasn’t already awake, assuming sleep was required. “Pssst! Got a lot to tell ya.” Muttered the smaller being in a quieter tone to avoid startling him, given how their first meeting went some time ago.

    “We met the Queen.” He stated to peak his interest, right off the bat. If any response was to be had from him, said water drake would turn over and swim towards a spot conveniently close. Once there, he’d allow himself to sink and rest on top of it.

  • "It's nothing to worry about, the ship's empty, say for a library and personal belongings." Despite Spencer being the one who was questioned and already answered it, his aquatic friend chimed in for some added assurance. If there was one thing he should've been more careful with, it was mentioning the fact they literally had an old warship above them.

    The sea drake's attention was brought to a certain voice speaking in an unknown language behind them. Surprise, it was their first acquaintance from earlier. Both corners on his maw partially rose into a very light smile when making a turn on all fours. Now that they had sleeping arrangements, Tempest stepped closer beside the Monarch.

    "Let's go I guess."

    Since they really had traveled a long way from the surface, and Spencer required special help for his spell, perhaps it was time for an overnight rest. Without any second thought, the younger reptile walked about to follow Yuna, if she were to start moving down that same corridor. A quick glance was given to the smaller female.

    "Ready when you are."

  • Hearing the response was enough to make her grin at the ceiling. "I'll be a failure of a traveler if I can't even get us from Point A to B, don’t worry about it. If you need to go somewhere important you can always let me know." She was getting the hang of it, all the running and fleeing. It wasn’t her proudest moment, but the confrontation earlier proved that this has been the best option so far.

    “Still, something disturbs me. He’s able to get past my wards. We left a light open when we passed through the walls. I should have been able to feel it when it went out unless I was so distracted by what was going on. The Illustres didn’t even react until we had to actively fight back.” Pale hands reached out for a pillow, hugging it against her chest. Her hold was tight, fingers digging into the cushion. “The latter, I could assume something for. The former, however…” her voice trailed off. She fell quiet. Calculating. Contemplating. Should she expect anything less from a shadow? “I may have underestimated him.”

    It looked like that wasn’t something she was really intending to say, but that was shaken away as she rolled to her side.

    Up͝s͟y-̸u͢psy͘ dais̛ie̕…̛

    Convincing herself to sit up and leave that bed felt like a feat to be accomplished.

    . . .

    Cassella didn't rely on just written and shorthand notes anymore, record keeping was slowly being done with her phone in gloved hands with the amount of material to be sorted through in one sitting. Titles and brief descriptions were given, and photographs were taken and stored. She was gradually segregating them into piles by potential relevancy, from the slips and slivers of information that knitted those eyebrows deeply with either confusion or sheer disdain, those that noticeably piqued her interest but gently placed aside, and the pieces for the languages that noticeably lit her up like there was no tomorrow, to the extent of her excitedly pointing those out. Her mood seemed to have vastly improved the more she made her progress deeper into the night – while she hasn’t confirmed anything as of yet, she wanted to take back all the scolding earlier.

    There was hope, it seemed, and even for a bit of it right here, she would have died for it twice. Cass could only imagine how it was for the man who has been struggling with the thing for decades.

    She might have babbled something about smaller databases and an exported excel spreadsheet at some point, laughingly claiming that she’ll eventually teach the old half-ghost how to use them to see how it’ll go. He has a library of his own, after all. All of these, punctuated with companionable silence in between busy hands.


    “You said you studied language and written word… was it with the family you spoke of, or elsewhere?”

    Questions such as that, however, had a way of taking someone back. “Yes.” That was uttered without much thought, and yet she blinked, carefully setting aside one soggy article to peer through another one. There was the initial hesitation again, but words slowly made their way easier this time. “Well, it’s a combination of both. You do pick up a thing or two if you're thrown in places where you had no choice but to learn. Rebirth is… a random process, at least for me. I wouldn't know where I'll be when this life ends, either I need to learn a new language or remember something I already knew."

    It doesn’t look like it was just the exhaustion speaking in odd little metaphors. She was serious. "It’s one weird roulette, but it just happened that this time I was born in a family that values magic and raced for artifacts. Anything written on it, they try to crack. Any spell, they try to study, tailor or reapply. But with how many systems came and went when it comes to encoding and deciphering things through history, I guess I landed somewhere useful. We had a curriculum for it early on for the younger ones and it’s something to specialize in for those who are inclined to it." One long pause was taken as she cautiously worked through a book that was already split into quarters. When it looked like it wouldn’t further fall apart in her hands, she finally breathed a sigh of relief.

    “You know, one of these days we can try boxing up the ones we can’t use. Hiring for storage will be nice, you can always get back to the ones you think you’d like to keep when all of this chasing is over. If you ever want my folks to help around for restoration I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Will it ever be over? 

    Not anytime soon, she knew, if anything it just felt like they were starting over one more time.

  • “A long time, this wasn’t an overnight project. Before the war I was a technician and demolitions specialist. I found it in parts buried underground with a schematic on how to rebuild it, had a map that gave me the cords on its location.”

    A brief explanation was given on how the bot came into possession of such a wonder device that had every potential to change the world. Interestingly enough, him having a civilian life prior to all this was hinted at, they really were more human-like than most would think.

    Hearing his remark made him turn his beak-shaped head aside to face Spencer with interest, now wondering if he had another trick up his sleeve. “Will it let the both of us sneak in?” He would inquire, shortly before remembering the prior question he almost ignored until now.

    By turning around, a few buttons were pressed on the holographic display to bring up an image, showing what appeared to be a quarry out in the middle of some forest with pine trees. In it were more lesser bots wielding mining drills and other excavation equipment. All around, glowing cobalt, rock-like objects were visible.

    “There. That blue stuff is Energon, it serves as both the lifeblood of all Cybertronians, can be used as fuel, or ammunition for weapons. Explosive and flammable when exposed to open air. Judging by how much they’ve got boxed up right now, it’s safe to assume the Decepticon warship will be stopping there to restock.”

    Another thought had suddenly struck him, and rightfully so. Turning to the mage again, Unity questioned his combat capabilities for when the time would come. “Do you have a means of killing other bots? Or do I need to forge you a weapon fitting for your size?”

    . . .

    “I like your way of thinking, psychological warfare has its benefits.”

    Those metallic lips of his rose up and formed a sick, venomous smirk like the mad man Starscream truly was, they were both equally diabolical. Shock value could be the ultimate weapon against the masses, especially against world governments.

    “Right this way.”

    Heeding his request without hesitation, the Seeker placed both arms and servos behind his back when marching towards the entry corridor behind him. His pace was slow enough to allow the sorcerer to follow with how much smaller he was. He’d be led through a curved hallway down a few doors, eventually taking a right.

    Soon, they’d enter a smaller room containing four terminals, displays, and holographic HUD to act as keyboards. Not much else other than a few seats laying around intended for use by Cybertronians, thankfully the smaller man could just walk across the metal counter up top to access everything. At the entrance was an automatic retracting door.

    “I hope this will suffice, Soundwave is always close by should you need him. Keep us updated on your progress.”

    That being said, the Flyer turned around on one heel-like foot and quietly stepped away, making his way toward the bridge once more.

  • 10547757089?profile=RESIZE_400x

  • "Given that it'll take them some time to turn that reactor into a bomb, we might."

    Turning his pointy head aside along with the rest of his metallic body, said bot shifted all his exterior plates to reconfigure again. In seconds, he was able to change himself back into the two-seater sports car. Once complete, the driver-side door swung upward to open since it was a vertical one.

    "You coming?" His associate questioned, the dash lights flashing with each word spoken.

    . . .

    It was a two-hour drive from their starting point, with Unity having taken control again since only he knew the routes. This led them through a number of long back roads through tunnels of trees, mostly to use the foliage as cover so nobody could get a decent aerial view or their position. Keeping away from any major highways wasn't a bad idea.

    The duo later pulled into a gravel driveway mostly covered by weeds, leading to what appeared to be some sort of junkyard surrounded by makeshift walls. Countless vehicles, pieces of scrap, some rail equipment, and even a few fuselages from commercial jetliners. All of it was surrounded by a forest.

    Moving through it slowly, the rogue Autobot came to a halt. His driver-side door flipped open again, allowing a certain Mage to step out. 

    Should Spencer disembark, the white mech transformed, only to slide the digits from his servos under the soil. Soon, a square-shaped section of the ground, or a giant hatch disguised as part of it, was lifted. "After you." Unity said, waiting on him to step down before entering as well, closing it behind them.

    Inside was a corridor made from mostly concrete, which sloped deeper underground and straightened out. Caged lamps producing a white glow illuminated it overhead, with some pipes running along the walls. Just about all of it was barren, no decorations to be seen as of yet.

    Strolling past a curved section of the hallway, they'd arrive at a large central room. Laying in the middle were a number of giant computer-like terminals, control stands, workbenches, and even a weapon rack against the back wall. Directly ahead of the computer systems was a circular tunnel with a dead end, which had a set of faded white half rings over it, and cables running through its ceiling.

    "Took some time to dig out all this and gather enough cement. That corridor with the rings is a Ground Bridge, it's a device that can open a portal to almost any location on Earth. The only issue with using it is that it requires an operator at the control stand to make return trips. Other than that, I have a jammer installed to minimize the risk of this place being found." He would explain, rather casually.

    Going over towards a terminal, Unity pressed a button to power up the three monitors, one of which had a display of Earth itself. Luckily for Spencer, there was an elevated table for him to stand on so he could be at the same height. 

    "At the moment, we're facing two problems. One, finding the Decepticon warship. Second, it's a suicide mission, us against a whole army. We'd have to sneak aboard somehow." Already torn at what seemed like an impossible situation, his head dipped forward, disappointed in being unable to think of a solution for both problems.

    "Maybe it's not entirely hopeless. The Decepticons have a few Energon mines, and I know the location of one. Either we could go there, wait for the warship to pick up said material, or~ forge a Decepticon beacon, plant it somewhere, and sneak aboard when it arrives. We'd still need to get on undetected."

    . . . 

    “We call it a spark, it contains our minds, our life force, memories, you name it.” The Decepticon told him in a slightly more neutral tone, almost objectively since it was a fact of their existence. At least now they were aware of Spencer’s vulnerabilities, and that he wasn’t as strong as they thought he was.

    This next question brought a venomous grin to the Seeker's metallic face. "What better way to make the government complicit than to blackmail them with a weapon of mass destruction? Once Knockout is finished rigging it, any city of our choosing will be at our mercy. With Lord Megatron's return, humanity will cower before his might."

    Now that his pending goals were made known, both crimson optics glanced towards their ship's view screen. “This world seems to be full of surprises.”

  • "Elvish?" Now this was interesting. "Ya learn something new every day." He added, fascinated to hear about why the place was designed the way it was.

    "Oh, almost forgot where I was," Tempest said when taking a moment to recall what he last shared with her just a few seconds ago. "Now I remember."

    "So after the big die-off, as I've been calling it, I met a man, Gleeon. He was a rich bloke that had a lot resources at the time and wanted to build an enclosure for me. One day he got wrongfully framed for murder and ran away with me on a ship. Because we both had nowhere to go, Gleeon got the idea to make a safe haven for special kinds of people, supernaturals, beasts, you name it.

    But it blossomed into something more. New people started joining in, including a brood of Sirens that took a liking to him after we saved a sister of theirs.

    Long story short, the bloke who framed Gleeon sent armies after us, and I met my uncle again when he found us. Eventually, we beat that villain guy, his name was Nikolai Aras. We lived in peace for a good while until something terrible happened one night."

    For whatever reason as hinted, his expression dulled down into a low, visible frown, having stared at the floor for his next bit of the story.

    "Myself and others woke up to a horrid sound, a demonic, static-like screech I'll never forget. Most of the family went up top on the decks to find out what was going on, and we learned the hard way.

    It was some kind of monster, made from machine parts that could fly, a massive monster. Despite the fact we had multiple drakes in our group, we couldn't stop it. Draven, one of the dragons in Gleeon’s gang, flew into the air so high that only a being with supernatural powers could be doing it. I'll never be certain, but I think Draven died that night.

    After the nightmare began, everyone scattered and fled the ship. We ran, and ran, and never stopped running until I was long clear of it. To this day, I still don't what that thing was, but it was enough everybody scram."

    This was a rather unsettling tale that Spencer likely hadn't heard about before: The very cause of the great separation as he knew it. There was certainly more to this story, but even Tempest wasn't aware of the creature's identity, or why it attacked them specifically. Eventually, he was able to face Yuna again. 

    "Since then I haven't found anybody, but Spence and I did find that same old ship, albeit abandoned. It's at the water's surface on top of us right now. Just about everything in its interior survived, most likely the creature gave up and didn't feel like wrecking the ship since everybody left."

  • A moment was taken to secure the said hat upon her head, the only thing that now kept her damp hair from sticking out in places. Cassella gingerly rubbed a hand against her sleeve as if she could already feel patches of the impending burn. “Here’s to hoping that my sunscreen can do the job just fine.”

    It usually never did, but on a time like this, when did that ever stop her?

    With a sweeping look at the groggy man from head to toe, the woman finally twitched a smile. There it was, that grin that was on that pale face from the very beginning of this trip.

    "Come, let's get some coffee on the way there."

     . . .


    Even copious amounts of caffeine can never win from exhaustion, it seemed. 

    Cassella was already dozing off at the majority of the regional train ride, briefly perturbed by incoming phone calls that were never really answered, or the occasional announcements and reminders through the intercom. She was groggily awake for the remainder of the bus ride at least, mostly fueled by the snacks that she stashed along (as unhealthy as they were), and was still able to sleepily prattle to Spencer from time to time regarding the sceneries and the reconstructions that they passed by. The acclaimed Great Ocean road stretched for two hundred and forty kilometers, she said. But at least, they’re only going halfway – their limit was still nightfall, after all.

    The bay spoke of salt in the air, water and waves spanning the horizon, foam lapping upon the rocky shores and sand that graced the streets bordering the edge of the road. Stores, cafes, and restaurants peppered the streets close to the bus bay where they took off, amongst a few other tourists who unconventionally took the long commute. With the skies laden with sunshine and hardly any clouds for cover until the afternoon, Cass was starting to wonder if persisting through the superficial torment was even a decent idea.

    It was a guest house that she finally landed themselves in later that day. Fifteen minutes away from the shoreline, the hilltop place boasted a glorious view of the slow setting sun. To Cassella who was already an exhausted wreck the moment they reached the wooden porch bordered by metal rails, perennial vines, and shrubs of flowers, it was a peaceful ending to the day that started off the hinges, just in time for their destination without anything eventful happening along the way. Their very concerned host who received them to check-in was a pleasant old lady who spoke in brief instances of Italian, already recognizing the woman right away from a previous phone call.

    It wasn’t usual that a tourist would ask for an indefinite retreat on an inquiry, but sweet little Cassella has her personal fool-proof excuses backed up with pleasantries, along with the discounts and deposit to match. Agreements were easily finalized in person, and perhaps it was the fatigue and the mild sunburn speaking, but the young woman can’t remember the last time she was that overjoyed to receive the keys.


    The place itself was fairly old with brick walls and polished hardwood floors, but the second-floor suite was well-kept, and a whole lot more spacious than the last one they occupied, with a television, bigger furniture, and chairs upon the balcony to match. Even the thinly veiled windows, spanning close to the ceiling and the floors provided a full view from the slightly overgrown hills straight to the ocean in the distance. Cassella’s inspection wasn’t as energetic as before, but she obviously wouldn’t miss it for the world. With the utilities perfectly running and without anything strange to pique her curiosity, that was the only time she was able to conclude that she was truly satisfied.

    They are safe. They are alright. 

    Hours later, they are still alive.

    “I specifically got the place because the reviews said that the free breakfast was really nice,” she murmured, finally throwing herself on one of the twin beds close to the window. That was one good enough reason for her, the rest of whatever luxuries offered was just icing on the cake, apparently. “Do you think we should have gone closer to the coast? What do you think?” She sank into the mattress, sparing one long unmoving moment with her face buried against the floral-smelling sheets before she finally flipped herself on her back.

    “Ha, it’s time to unpack.”

  • Raiya gave a curious tilt of her head as the book was withdrawn. She acknowledged the wordless permission, picked up the book from the table and proceeded to leaf through its pages. The elven's eyes regularly rose from the book and towards Spencer as an indication that he still had her attention while he spoke.

    "I believe he has the means to kill me."

    Her eyes snapped up onto him the second that sentence came to completion, and there they remained. Blue hues harbored a sudden and sharp virulence that held through the duration of his explanation. The lesser-seen expression was an involuntary reaction that was in no way directed towards Spencer himself. Rather, it was the notion of his words that summoned it; this faceless man who seemed so intent for Spencer to meet his end, and had the potential means to carry it out. The mere concept was alarming.

    The escalating whistle of the kettle made Raiya jump slightly, breaking the glower with a blink and tore her gaze towards it. The book was gently closed and placed back onto the table, and Raiya said nothing as she walked over to the stove to pull the shrill kettle off of the burner. Two metallic mugs were withdrawn from her bag and unwrapped. Some of the freshly boiled water was poured into them, swished around for a few seconds, then dumped out into the sink. A tactic to warm the mugs up first. The mugs were then filled with the water and delivered to the table.

    "Never a dull moment, is there?" The rhetorical question was chipped from a rigid tone. A sigh followed, as did the completion of her thought process. Her following words came out quieter than the previous ones, and not nearly as acerbic. "Times like these make me miss the dull days."

    She went back to her satchel and withdrew a glass jar of dark-colored grinds, as well as another smaller jar of sugar.

    "All I have right now is instant coffee. I haven't had the chance to go on a supply run in a bit." Her words adopted a more apologetic tone while she placed the containers and a spoon before the other. She settled into one of the other chairs and prepared her own coffee. The elf held the mug in both hands, yet did not drink it immediately.

    "So..." Raiya paused, the syllable fading into a sigh as she worked to gather her thoughts. The elf frowned a bit while she worked to piece things together. "You have the book, you know who is after you, you mentioned the need to find someone who can translate it. Do you have any more leads on someone who can help you with that?"

    She rose the mug as if to take a sip, yet paused.

    "Oh! And this other mage. Does she have prior conflict with Marius as well?"

  • "Melbourne? As in Australia?" She asked, taking a second to mentally pinpoint that location in comparison to where they currently were.

    The left corner of her lip was drawn back in a subconscious grimace to Spencer's latter question. The gesture was short and quick to fade, yet such an expression seemed quite unbefitting for such a monumental achievement.

    "Yes, King was caught." A brief pause allowed her to find the right words. "He was working for someone, Spence. Someone who's still out there. Mai gave me no details of who it is, but it's no secret that this individual is dangerous. Actually, I don't think that "dangerous" even covers it from the way Mai was acting when she told me about it. She seemed unsettled."

    Raiya looked over at the pot on the stove. Steam was beginning to rise from the nozzle, yet it has not yet reached a boiling point. Her focus drifted absently from the steam while she recalled the behavior of the commander when the two of them spoke. Mai's conduct towards the topic was not drastic, yet it had still caught Raiya off guard. The elf could not fault her for not revealing more, but... She was worried for her friend. Something unpleasant and oddly foreboding still stirred when Raiya allowed herself to dwell on it.

    Soon enough, Raiya turned her attention back onto Spencer.

    "On the topic of dangerous and mysterious individuals, who is this "Marius" you wrote of? What exactly happened in Melbourne?"

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+ S p e n c e r + left a comment for Tempest
"After a moment’s thought over the ship’s fate and sudden urgent change of plan, Spencer delivered a…"
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"Day two, done"
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"Day one complete"
Aug 1
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 (Day 1) August 1st: Seasonal: what sort of changes does your character go through as seasons…
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"What was a long time to a cybertronian? They weren’t limited to flesh and bone as the creatures of…"
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"More names lost to history, perhaps lost to the young queen herself if she wasn’t careful in…"
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"It took a handful of miles before the mage settled back into his seat and felt some essence of…"
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"Spencer’s own gaze darted toward the kettle when it screamed. He had some time behind him from the…"
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"“If we go back to your shelter now… do you think we’ll have time?” Spencer questioned. The time to…"
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"The blade returned to Spencer’s bag and he fell into listening for the time being. There was so…"
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