Wayfarer's Point

Kaster opened and closed his mouth, still in shock and not sure what to do. Astoria snapped her hood up over her head and grabbed Kaster's arm, following Beikalan and the strange man.
 
He popped up out of existence, the thin, wry man beside him.
"Damn, Blindfold, heh.. At least I hurt him eh?" He joked.
 
"You didn't. He can just grow that arm back in a second," He said, the black substance leaking out from the crook of his elbow, there he had buried his eyes so that no one would see.
 
“Confirm if this matches the description of your request.”
“Yeah I guess this is it.”
“What do you mean you guess? This is not a mere toy Harold, the Replicator Ray is a weapon capable of creating identical copies of inanimate objects.”
“Even if you say that Toz, after the revolutionaries succeeded in overthrowing the Inheritor, this weapon is no longer useful to our cause.”
“I don’t give a damn about your cause Harold. I have fulfilled my end of the contract, and now it is time for you to fulfill yours. Confirm, and then give me what I am owed.”

Toz was sitting across a green-skinned man at a table with inlaid silver. After a minute of glaring at each other, the man breaks away from Toz’s gaze and heaves a long sigh. Harold deactivates the locks on a metal container with a retina scan and slides the container across the table. Upon opening the container, Toz’s lips parts into a toothy grin. He tucks a small black package from within the container into his backpack and, preparing to end the transaction, offers Harold a hand.

“Always a pleasure dealing business with you Harold, although I suspect this will be the last time you are standing in for the republic.”
“Mhm...even if the political structure switches, the new order will still need weapon suppliers to maintain their authority over the populace. Every government needs a strong military presence after all.”
“And everyone needs a mailman.”
After hearing the cheesy slogan of the X Dimensions Deliveroo, a courier service operating across the universe, Harold sighs once more and accepts Toz’s handshake.

Black and bouncy music was blasting in the backdrop as Toz exits the private room within Celestial Delta. Celestial Delta, a fairly large nightclub in Wayfarer’s Point, is known for hosting back-door dealings and trades due to no governing bodies in the Nexus. The unique system of the Nexus provides the suppliers with guaranteed security when dealing with vicious marauders, would-be tyrants, and other unsavory figures. As long as the system does not deem the materials or parties hostile to the welfare of the city, the trade typically concludes without any problems. After pulling away from prying eyes, Toz stores the black package in his pocket dimension, and begins to head over to a restaurant where he will greet the recent applicants.
 
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Blindfold found an abandoned alleyway to practice. He focused and felt the darkness, the black substance forever leaking out of his eyes. He focused on manipulating it to what he wanted to do. The Ink slithered from behind his blindfold, down his cheek, inside his shirt, down his arm, and out of his sleeve. He looked at the tendril snaking up his wrist and frowned. Why couldn't he have a different power? Empathy, perhaps? Healing? But no, he was cursed to see others' futures and pasts, to see in only three dimensions. And then this. This darkness, this blackness. He needed to understand it, to control it, instead of it controlling him. Slowly, tentatively, He pushed out with it, willing it to go forward, an extension of his body. Suddenly, he lashed out with it, tearing a gash in the wall beside him. He smiled. He was... in control? He didn't know what had happened, but he would take it. Maybe he'd healed. Throwing caution to the wind, He spun around and slashed the walls in a perfect circle, destroying things wildly. Maybe he didn't need help. He laughed, reveling in the new freedom he discovered. Maybe he was in control now!

He wasn't.

As Blindfold spun around and looped a tendril over his shoulder in a particularly complicated move, his heart felt like it had exploded, his newfound 'control' shattering in an instant. He knew what the darkness was saying.

You can't control this.

His control was thrown out the window, the Ink rebelling against him.

He screamed.

The Ink few out, exploding from every part of his body, throwing his blindfold off, and his Sight went haywire. He saw everything that was or will ever be in a single instant, nothing making sense. The future was always changing, shifting, a maddening mass of decisions and butterfly effects. Nothing, no one, could save him from this pain, this oblivion, eating away at his identity.

And all at once, it stopped.

He sat up and looked around. He was in a small room, a double-sided bed in the middle, and a computer in the corner. A boy, tall, but looked about 14 years of age, sat at the computer, typing something. The boy looked up as if surprised he was there. Then, he smiled.
The scene shifted.
The same boy, a couple of years younger, lay on his side, crying. He saw Blindfold and smiled. "You're on my side, right?" the boy said, pleading. Naive.
"You can beat him." He looked toward the door and frowned. "You're more powerful, right?" He started crying again. "You'll help me, won't you?"
Blindfold took pity on him and smiled. He said he would. But his voice came out differently, a powerful voice, one as deep as time and so powerful it could shatter mountains and reach the corners of the universe.

I̶̭̅͛͜ ̷̭̔͗͌͠w̴̧̬̏̑̈́i̸̡̡̻͚͓͘l̷̢̮̋̓̐l̷̗͎̠̪̓͛̍̈́̎͜.̵͙͊͘

surprised, he looked down and saw himself for the first time. He was entirely covered in the inky black substance. His blindfold was gone. He was wearing a top hat and trench coat, clutching a cane.

And Blindfold felt a humongous, far-reaching consciousness touch his mind. It was filled with pain and suffering, so much pain. It thrashed and turned in unexpected directions, a storm unlike any other. He had been abandoned. Cast out. They were supposed to LOVE ME!

Ī̴̖̦ ̸̟͔̓̊p̵̩̒͜r̴͎͗̈́ǫ̷͕̒m̶͖̻̋̇ĩ̷͙͙ŝ̷̖͠é̵͙̹̒.̶̝́

And everything went black.
 
Astoria was walking around Wayfarer's Point, eavesdropping in on people's conversation s when she found a man laying on the floor, a black cloth nearby. She stood on her toes, making eye contact with Kaster from where he was making small talk with a man. Astoria gave him a meaningful look. He said a few last words to the man and went over.
Seeing the man, he rolled his eyes, said, "Silly Bob, falling asleep in public again," a little too loudly, receiving an eye roll from Astoria. He picked him up and, putting him over his shoulder, walked out into the streets and down a dark alleyway.

Cont in Ferlin's Place
 
He looked up, something was following him.. But who..? He turned around, nothing. He quickly turned around a corner, waited for a second, and somebody walked into the alleyway. He grabbed them by the throat, spinning them into a wall, then fire appeared in his hands, dancing around the people.
 
Beikelan suddenly stopped. Several spears getting launched into his chest from behind.. He collapsed to the ground in pain, closing his eyes as the assailants left, confident in there victory.
 
Disdain trailed her fingers up Beikelan's neck, then pushed him to the ground. Beikelan could not do anything but scream. Disdain picked him up, Waving to any passer-by. "Toodles." Then disappeared in a bright flash of light.
 
Alexander arrived in this by sheer accident. One moment, he was at his apartment, doing typical household chores, then the next, he was here, flying about the vast building, barily avoiding colliding into other beings big and small. He had asked a few people where he was, each answer the same: "Wayfarer's point in Nexus."
It appeared to be a huge indoor city, vendors and merchants selling their goods, expansive halls, high ceilings, and floor to ceiling windows. Pushing his initial fear and confusion, the birdman decided to just explore. Rounding a corner, bumping into the wall in the process, he flew sloppily down another hall, white feathers drifting to the ground, some landing on people. With a bright smile gracing his feathery face, Alexander began softly singing in a melodic countertenor with quick vibrato, his voice wafting throughout the massive hall.
 
Disdain popped back into existence. Falling to the floor in the middle of wayfarer's point. Her knees stung and she stumbled to her feet clutching her head. "Quite a handful that one.." Disdain muttered.
 
Zane tumbled out of a rift in Wayfarer's point. Still perceiving he was in battle, he jumped to his feet and wheeled about. Instead of his nemesis, Shiro, all Zane found was the fizzling remains of a collapsed portal. He eased his battle stance and looked around, dazed.

"Where the hell am I, and how did I get here?" he asked to no one in particular. Looking at all of the people flooding the hallways, some human, some... not... Zane got the distinct impression of a train station or similar.

"Fuck," he grumbled and slumped against a wall, out of the way of the shambling traffic.
 
Disdain rolled her eyes, seeing a man pop out of a portal and bruised. Now THAT was interesting. Her golden rings glittered in the sunlight as she walked over to the man, interest written all over her face. "Hey, are you okay?"
 
Zane looked up when a woman spoke. He rolled his shoulders backward, which levered him up, away from the wall.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you for asking," he replied. "But, uhh..." Zane stalled for time, dusting off the pants of the school uniform he wore. "Where exactly am I?"
 
"Hm? Wayfarer's Point, In Nexus." She replied, moving a strand of hair out of her face. "What's you're name?" Disdain asked the man.
 
Alexander kept flying, moving this way and that, amazement turning into elation. His voice increased in volume as he switched to high, operatic notes, the sound resounding through the indoor city.
 
"My name is Zane. Nice to meet you." He gave an over-exaggerated low, sweeping bow. He straightened up with a wry smile on his face and humor in his bright blue eyes. "And yourself?" he countered.

After the words tumbled from his mouth, he heard loud, echoing birdsong and flapping. Large, loud, clumsy flapping. The smile faded from his face as he looked skyward, hoping to identify the source.
 
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