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Welcome to The Cave of Dragonflies forums, where the smallest bugs live alongside the strongest dragons.
Guests are not able to post messages or even read certain areas of the forums. Now, that's boring, don't you think? Registration, on the other hand, is simple, completely free of charge, and does not require you to give out any personal information at all. As soon as you register, you can take part in some of the happy fun things at the forums such as posting messages, voting in polls, sending private messages to people and being told that this is where we drink tea and eat cod.
Of course I'm not forcing you to do anything if you don't want to, but seriously, what have you got to lose? Five seconds of your life?
Jace gave Dedede an inquisitive look from under his hood. "As Henry said, I am Jace Beleren. I am originally from the plane of Ravnica... but much more should be left unsaid. The rest you should know is that I am willing to assist in whatever this endeavor may be."
He then turns to look at Henry. "So you know how you got here from this... "Subspace", with Velian's help... but you are unsure how you ended up in such a place first?"
"Right," Henry told Jace, "Kolar zipped me to this taiga as soon as we found our way out of the Subspace. Come to think of it, I have to wonder why he didn't just planeswalk us out of there. We had to find an exit. It might be covered in his notes."
Henry then tried to recollect what he was doing before being blinked into the Subspace.
"Well, I was playing a game of Magic," Henry recalled out loud, "a tournament, actually, and I cast Oblivion Ring, targeting my opponent's Jace-"
He caught himself. It would certainly be extremely awkward to finish that sentence, considering the Mind Sculptor himself was right here and the only way Henry could be considered a planeswalker was in cardboard only. Henry turned himself around and grabbed the notebook, searching it for anything about the Subspace and it's relation to planeswalking.
Tabuu shuddered again after Cyrus accepted the offer. Gangrel thought nothing of it - the entity was already a bizarre being to begin with, this was likely something else that it did every now and again. His attention was soon after caught by Cyrus' rat-thing - a scout of some kind, perhaps Gangrel thought - had become rather alert to the presence of a ghost in the vicinity.
Tabuu looked in the direction that the rat-thing - which Cyrus had named Weavile - had been gesturing in. "Smoke out... this spirit," he ordered, I would rather it be... scared as opposed to... harmed... for now." "Yeah, yeah, you're the boss," Gangrel said, casually striding into the direction that Tabuu was looking in, "scorched, not fried. I get it." He flipped his sword in his hand, now holding it in a reverse grip stance. The sword itself started to glow faintly, arcs of energy coursing along the blade.
"Now watch, Cyrus, as I show you just the sort of stuff we Plegians are made of." Cackling, Gangrel started to run, and soon after slashed the sword upward. For a moment, nothing. Then, a point of light appeared above where Gangrel's slash had finished. Immediately after that, a bolt of energy erupted from that point of light, and in an instant, struck near where Gangrel hoped the ghost was. He had indeed intended to miss, but with no clear sight of the ghost, his aim could be far off, for all he knew.
He didn't care, so long as this mysterious ghost reacted to his attack in some way.
Jace was quiet after the whole explanation. The hood on his cloak hid his face, so it wasn't sure if he was confused, bothered, or, well, anything. He seemed to just... stand there for a moment.
After a minute or so of silence, he nodded slightly. "The only reason one could not planeswalk is if they were either somehow bound to the essence of a plane, or if the location was beyond a plane."
He shakes his head after another pause. "I have yet to hear of something beyond the planes, though. At least, not something readily accessible to that extent...."
Dedede looked confused. Game of Magic? Planes? This was way beyond his knowledge. "I guess we have to planesrun or something? Should I call Kirby and Meta Knight through that weird portal I came in through?" he said. The King turned to his troops. "You are dismissed. Go back to the castle, play ping pong or something".
WX-78 scoured the barren landscape of the mysterious island it had been dumped on over a week ago. It had one thought going through its Processing Unit: fuel. having exhausted a great deal of its resources the previous night, WX-78 was in dire need of fuel, in the form of vegetables or meat, lest it deactivate. This part of WX-78's design had always perplexed it; why must its fuel source be food? Why not something more convenient and plentiful, such as rocks or dirt? The only explanation it could think of is that its human creators had seen fit to force it to rely on food for energy, as they did. Making others perform in ways comfortably familiar to them, regardless of the benefits that may come of having them preform in a different manner; this seemed like a very human thing to do.
WX-78 started to list more reasons it found humans unpleasant, when it noticed a strange source of energy off in the distance. WX-78 moved closer to investigate. What it found appeared to be a strange rift through space. The rift emitted a peculiar energy that was not unlike that of the Shadow Manipulator WX-78 had back at its camp, albeit this rift's energy seemed less unstable and much, much stronger. "WARNING: MYSTERIOUS SPACE ANOMALY!" WX-78's danger sensors blared, "APPROACH WITH CAUTION!" Still, could this be a way back off this accursed island? Whatever was beyond it, it couldn't be much worse then here. "INITIATING RECKLESS EXPLORATION MANEUVER!" WX-78 blooped, as it stepped into the rift.
Crimson spurred his Loftwing. The great skies had been changed quite a bit since Link's time, and he took this all in. Knights were able to travel on the surface, and civilizations had begun to be built down there. Beams of light shot from the cloud layer, where any Knight with a sailcloth could safely reach the surface.
A unique beam of light caught Crimson's eye. It was some kind of black light, with a frightening kind of purple light enveloping it. Where did it lead?
Crimson looked around to make sure no one was watching. All of the Knights were busy training their pupils for the upcoming Wing Festival. No one had time to pay any attention to the long-time Knight.
Spurring his red Loftwing in the side, they took off at an unbelievable pace, almost knocking the red hat to Crimson's uniform off his head. The more the Loftwing approached the strange black beam, the more it slowed. Eventually, it stopped in front of it, uncomfortably flapping its wings and remaining stationary.
"What's the problem?" Crimson asked. Loftwings had long since known that the beams were nothing to fear, and his Loftwing in particular had never been even a little fearful of the portals. "Well, get on with it!" He spurred his Loftwing, but it only cawed in anger.
Crimson sighed. "We've been through these beams a hundred times, and you've hardly hesitated before. What could be the problem?" The Loftwing looked back at Crimson with an unsure look.
I'm not sure, it seemed to say. I just don't feel good about this.
Crimson sighed again. "Perhaps your gut is against this, but it's gotten to the point where, as your master, I command you to fly into that beam." The Loftwing shook its head sadly, and flew into the beam.
Instantly, Crimson felt as if each and every cell--no, atom-- that made him up were split apart and pierced with a burning needle. All of his pieces began to stir and move freely before they charged into each other, making him whole (and completely sore) again. He was still on his Loftwing, who was crying something awful.
They were in some kind of disturbing void, with trails that reminded him of the lights that he saw as a child in the night sky. Standing by him were a few odd characters-- a buff looking man with black and gold attire, a huge, obese Loftwing holding a hammer, a man with butterfly wings that somewhat resembled the spirit called Fi that resided in his sword, a normal looking man who seemed entirely too nervous, a pale man with a peaked face and oddly colored hair, a rat wearing some sort of crown, a white kind of ghost, and another normal lad who looked ahead of himself.
"Erm... hello," Crimson squeaked, entirely aware that some kind of important meeting had been broken up by a red-clad man riding an oversized bird. "I hate to interrupt, but... where am I, what's going on, and how can I leave?"
"You know, that might actually be the case.", Henry replied to Jace, "Sections of a world caught in a Subspace bomb are ripped away into Subspace. Maybe this basically puts them beyond a plane? Kolar doesn't seem to have much info on this, probably because of how dangerous it would be to try and gather."
"Whatever weird portal you came through," Henry then told King Dedede, "was probably his work. Otherwise, how else would you get here?"
Speaking of arriving here, it sounded like someone, or something, else had arrived here. Everyone so far seemed to have arrived at the right place, and now there were actually powerful people with him, so Henry did not instinctively reach for his no-dachi.
All of the people standing in the dark void seemed important, and Crimson felt awfully ashamed for having interrupted them. Nonetheless, he had been trapped in this strange dimensions and had no intention of being courteous enough of waiting on them to get out.
"Excuse me," he squeaked, just a little louder this time. He didn't feel like pushing his luck. "My name's Crimson, I'm from Skyloft. You all must live on the surface. I don't know where I am, but if you could direct me to the nearest exit, that would be nice."
Of course, it wasn't Crimson's fault that he didn't know that everyone there was from some kind of far-off dimension. He had seen many things rivaling this situation on the surface, as many knights had. Who was a regular knight like him to comprehend such an immense and amazing phenomenon?
