Showing posts with label Eclectica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eclectica. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2026

Engine Room/Camp Syndicate: So Hungry (Escape from Club Apophis, 60)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: “Hungry... So hungry…”

The voice pulsed in Kyle’s head like a corrupted audio loop that refused to die.

He panted, crouching low as he dragged Jihoon through the narrow, suffocating crawlspace. Jihoon was far heavier than he looked. All dense muscle and dead weight. And Kyle was rapidly losing patience. Crawling through the damp, reeking depths of the Forbidden Zone was bad enough, but doing it while hauling a comatose body was pure hell.

To make matters worse, their only source of light was the old, gutted television strapped to Jihoon’s head like a makeshift helmet. The damn thing flickered to life whenever it touched Jihoon’s skin, projecting a pale violet static down the muddy tunnel.

Jihoon. Comatose. Haunter of old televisions.

Just another cursed day in the Zone.

Up ahead, their guide, a massive, scaly beast known as the Shadow Serpent, slithered effortlessly through the dark, completely ignoring Kyle’s struggle. Low fog swallowed Kyle’s boots. Overhead, copper pipes dripped with a maddening rhythm.

A startled bat squeaked, its leathery wing brushing Kyle’s cheek. He jumped, jerking upward only to slam his head straight into the ceiling pipes. The metallic clang echoed down the length of empty tunnel.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, "That had better have been a flying rat and nothing else."

He dropped to his knees to catch his breath, easing Jihoon onto the mud. A second later, a dull thump echoed back from the dark.

Kyle froze. Echoes were supposed to fade, not boomerang back.

The television screen flickered and slowly died.

Total pitch darkness.

The Serpent was lurking nearby. The strange beast took many forms. Sometimes pure energy, sometimes a shadow. But right now, as it led them, it was corporeal. He heard the heavy rasp of scales sliding against scales. And when its rattle tipped tail brushed his hand, it felt icy and slippery.

Kyle dug through his backpack until his fingers found an entropy-powered battery light. It turned on with a heavy, satisfying click. Violet light flooded the narrow space. Finally, he could see where he was. Or at least, he could if there wasn’t a wall of undulating obsidian scales blocking most of his view.

The ground trembled. A cold draft rushed through the passage, carrying the smell of wet stone.

The Serpent suddenly hissed, its massive coils tightening into a defensive knot. Its head swung forward, then whipped back toward the way they had come.

“I told you Snakepoo,” Kyle grumbled. “Not the best route. Now we’re too far to go back, the hell if I know how much further ahead we have to go.”

The Serpent turned its massive head, giving him a look that somehow resembled a sheepish shrug.

"Right. Physical dead-ends aren't something a Shadow Serpent thinks about when picking a path."

Snakepoo suddenly looked up and flicked its tongue.

A deep concussion rolled through the tunnel walls, followed by the distant screech of tearing metal somewhere above them. The pipes shuddered in their brackets.

The Serpent froze, every muscle in its coiled body instantly rigid.

Fine grit rained from the roof.

Kyle frowned. “What?”

The Serpent leaned down, tenderly nudging Jihoon’s limp fingers with its snout. Then it looked straight up.

Far above their heads, something massive groaned beneath the weight of the earth.

Without a sound, the Shadow Serpent dissolved into a column of black vapor and shot straight upward through the solid rock ceiling. Just like that, the scaly bastard abandoned them.

“I don’t know if I should be happy or worried," Kyle muttered, letting out a long breath. That big ass snake made his skin crawl.

He gently placed a hand on Jihoon’s shoulder, “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Buddy.”

He unbuckled the dead TV helmet and pulled it off to give the guy some air.

“Hungry…” the voice murmured in his mind, like a recording stuck on repeat.

Kyle unzipped his pack to search for rations, but he already knew the truth. There were none.

He wiped sweaty bangs from his eyes and finally got a good look at Jihoon. The shy, nerdy runt he knew in school was gone, replaced by someone strikingly sculpted, pale, and otherworldly. Jihoon had been the first person to escape the Zone alive. And the Zone takes back what belongs to it.

“So hungry…”

“Could you stop that, Jih… I mean… Lath… Urgh. I don’t even know what to freaking call you anymore. Jihoon? Lathandro? Jihandro?”

Kyle grumbled as he gathered up the ridiculous mass of silky white hair spilling across the mud. In the tight, jagged crawlspace, floor-length hair was a massive liability, one snag on a copper bracket could snap Jihoon’s neck if they had to run.

“Seriously, dude, the hair is a problem,” Kyle muttered. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he began weaving the heavy strands together. “It looks badass, sure, but in the real world? Total pain in the ass.”

Jihoon remained motionless. Kyle tied off the braid as best he could with a frayed strip of cloth, resting his friend's head back down.

That was when he noticed Jihoon’s lips were parted slightly. He saw something white gleaming against his lower lip. Long. Sharp.

“Need…”

Kyle shifted uneasily. Sweat ran down his face.

Those teeth didn't belong in the mouth of his friend.

He looked left and right, then leaned closer to inspect them.

They weren’t what he was expecting. Not vampire fangs. They were thin and translucent, almost like quartz, with a delicate hinge at the gumline.

Kyle reached out with a trembling finger and tapped one.

The fang folded backward neatly against the roof of the mouth. When he released the pressure, it snapped forward again.

That’s when he realized what they were.

Snake fangs.

“Feed…”

A chill raced up his spine.

He used his thumb to gently peel back one of Jihoon’s eyelids.

The eye was rolled back, but the bottom edge of the iris was visible. The pupil wasn't a round human circle; it had narrowed into a vertical slit. And the color made Kyle's breath catch. He realized Jihoon’s teal eye color, that thing that had always made him unusual, was the exact same color as the Serpent's eyes.

Kyle gasped. As he recoiled, his hand caught the edge of the exposed tooth.

A thin line of dark crimson bloomed where the fang sliced his skin.

He stared at the blood welling up on his hand.

Then he looked back at Jihoon.

“Hungry….”

Kyle’s heart hammered against his ribs. "I know."

“So hungry...”

He gulped. He wanted to say something smartass about this situation, but the words died in his throat. He just sat there in the dirt, staring at Jihoon like an idiot.

Against every instinct he possessed, Kyle raised his bleeding hand back to Jihoon’s lips.

The hinged fangs deployed instantly, driven by pure reflex, and sank deep into the flesh of his hand.

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sharp hiss. It felt like a white-hot needle driving through his palm, but within seconds, the pain dissolved into a weird, numb warmth. The sensation hummed through his core, heavy and intoxicating. He gasped, a faint moan slipping out before he could stop it. He knew he should be terrified, but a strange euphoria hijacked his brain.

He fell into a daze… falling.. falling… once more into sleep….

He found himself standing in a blinding, sterile white expanse. There was nothing here. No walls. No ceiling. No horizon. Just Kyle, standing in the light, and the dark silhouette waiting before him.

He kept his eyes fixed on the polished floor. His reflection stared back. His security guard uniform was immaculate, stripped of mud, blood, sweat, and exhaustion. This was what he was supposed to be. A guardian. A protector. An unbroken sentinel.

This dreamspace was different. Honest.

Kyle swallowed. He didn't want to look up at the figure standing in the blaring light. The figure reached toward him. A pale hand. Long black claws.

Kyle's gaze followed it only as far as the chest, and stopped. A golden serpent rested against the black-and-white robes. His breath caught. He knew that necklace. He had seen it around the mummified nun. The symbol of the Children of Apophis. But this wasn't the little golden brooch the Children wore. This was larger. A ceremonial necklace. Roped gold, heavy enough to look like an emblem of rank. A much higher rank.

Kyle's stomach tightened. Why was that around this person's neck?

He still didn't look up. Every instinct he had screamed at him to run. Run now. But he didn’t.

The figure's fingers slid easily between his, silky and graceful. Where their palms met, blood welled up. Kyle flinched at the sensation. It was a covenant. A sacred bond sealed in blood.

Vile. Wrong. Permanent.

Then he smelled it. Clove. Heavy. Sweet. Suffocating. He felt dizzy.

The other clawed hand caught his chin. Slowly, gently, it tilted his face upward. Kyle braced himself. Dark robes. Regal posture. Terrible authority. And that smug, predatory confidence. He knew exactly who he was going to see. But when he looked up, it wasn’t MasterGin. It was Jihoon, his strange serpentine eyes deeply amused, his lips curving into a mischievous grin.

“Boo.”

Kyle gasped, his eyes flying open as he yanked his bleeding hand back.

“Something about you is very, very wrong,” he yelped at the comatose figure on the ground, cradling his wounded hand against his chest. “Not cool! Not cool at all!”

Soil rained down from the ceiling.

He didn’t like this. Not one bit.

At least Jihoon had been fed, and would shut up now. Who knows how long MasterGin had kept him locked up and neglected. Once they got out of the Zone, his friend could get proper medical care.

Then came the sound. A horrible, wet choking from deep in Jihoon's chest.

Kyle looked down in horror.

Black, viscous fluid bubbled up from Jihoon’s throat. His chest heaved violently as he fought for air. His skin turned a mottled grey, the dark hollows under his eyes bruising into deep purple.

“Shit!”

Training took over. Kyle rolled Jihoon onto his side, supporting his head as another surge of black fluid spilled from his mouth. Don't panic.

A thick splatter struck the mud. Then another. Far too much. Far more than the few drops of blood Kyle had given him.

What the hell had he done?

Finally, the heaving stopped. Jihoon lay limp in the dirt.

“Hungry… So hungry…”

Kyle let out a shaky groan and pulled off his outer shirt to wipe the black sludge from his friend’s face.

“Don't you dare," he said quietly. "Don't you dare die on me after all the bullshit we all went through to get you out of here. Do you hear me? Man up.”

A sharp burning sensation pulsed in his hand. Thin violet veins were creeping up his forearm from the bite mark.

Infection.

His skin prickled with an icy, metallic heat, like frozen needles marching beneath his flesh. Kyle’s breath hitched, his heart hammering against his ribs in a full-blown panic. His vision swirled at the edges. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palm flat against the damp soil to anchor himself, but the heat surged straight up his neck and into his skull.

When he forced his eyes open, the pitch black of the crawlspace was gone.

The dark had bled into a faint, violet-tinted luminescence. The world was rendered in eerie thermal contrast. Every crack in the freezing masonry radiated a dull violet hue, while the heat pulsing from the overhead pipes stood out in sharp, unnatural focus. Like a viper tracking prey in the dark, he could see the very temperature of the room.

“What the…?”

He rubbed his eyes, then opened them again. The tunnel still glowing.

A familiar voice echoed through his mind. Because, of course it did.

"Still hungry…”



On him, Jihoon:
Hair: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, basics [M][mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Hair emissive: RavenBell - Persephone Hair, emissive overlay [M][mesh](Engine Room)(200L)
Tattoo: Nuuna - EVI Metallic EVOX 2K tint [BOM](Engine Room)(300L)
Makeup: Rubedo - Blanche, 12
[BOM](Camp Syndicate)(290L)
Outfit: SOMNIUM - Aether Magus set, black, - Legacy M/A[mesh](Engine Room)(850L)
Boots: MEMENTO - NEO. Boots V2 [LEGACY M] [mesh]
Crown: UNA - Ruise crown Silver [mesh]
Claws: Subject Thirteen - Solstice Set - LegacyA [mesh]
Snake Necklace: SIGMA Minos necklace [mesh]

Skin: outernaked - #evox - juhoon skin [NF: natural] - wb [BOM]

Eyes: Poetic Colors - Jaded Eyes - Jade [BOM]

Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle:
Shirt: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Shirt, white, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Shoes: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Oxfords, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Pants: ARCHIVEFACTION - EIGENGRAU Pants, black, LegacyM [mesh](Engine Room)350L)
Tattoo: Izzie's Face & Body Blood & Wounds (199L)
Hair: TRASH Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh](299L)
Eyes: Mana Jelly Eyes,  Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Head, bloody tattoos: LeLUTKA - Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Window: Eclectica - Steampunk Round Windows [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Pipes: SIGNΛ - Modular Pipes Kit [mesh](Engine Room)(900L)


BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots,  midday sky, default camera:







Sunday, April 19, 2026

Engine Room: Mirror Mirror on the Wall (Escape from Club Apophis, 41)


(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE:   In the mad dash to evade the Enforcers, the team scattered. Lost and half-blind, Minjo ducked into the nearest available door.

The corridor was a jarring contrast to the plastic surgery clinic's sterile white above. Here, everything glowed warm and decadent. She couldn't read the details clearly. Her world had been a smear of shapes and color since the sewers took her glasses. But she could feel the difference. Thick carpet underfoot instead of tile. The air tasted faintly of mahogany and expensive old perfume. Warmth instead of clinical cold.

At the end of the hall, a brass door radiated importance. She didn't need sharp eyes to recognize that shape of authority.

She ran for it, heart hammering against her ribs. She pressed the gold serpent brooch to the kiosk by feel.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant chirped. The heavy door hissed open.

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Minjo slipped inside and dropped to the cold floor. She dove beneath what felt like a bed. Her hands found a brass frame, heavy embroidered fabric, the scent of dust and trapped air. She pressed herself flat and waited.

MasterGin's voice cut through the corridor like a razor drawn across velvet. "Trying to break what belongs to me? How ambitious of you."

"You can't do this to me." Paine's voice was tight. Desperate.

"Oh, I already have."

"I built this clinic. I run it."

"And yet here we are. Think of it as a sabbatical. A very long one. Your only duty now is to ensure no one else harms another glorious hair on his head. Now go. Before I'm forced to correct what jealousy has done to your face."

Heels receded. Precise. Unhurried.

The door swung open.

"Welcome home, Mistress Paine," the automated assistant repeated, just as brightly.

Minjo shifted backward into the shadows.

Something heavy smashed against the wall. She flinched at the sound. Glass, by the pitch of it, shattering across the floor. Something small skittered under the bed skirt and came to rest near her knee. She felt the edge of it with careful fingers. A shard. Mirror glass. She moved her hand away.

From under the folds of fabric, she listened more than she watched.

The clinic administrator's breathing was ragged. The rustle of fabric, a zipper, something heavy dropping to the floor. A change of clothes. Minjo filed this away. Paine shedding the white coat in private meant the white coat was a performance. What came after was the real thing. The unmistakeable shape and colors of a nun habit.

Then the soft thud of a body sliding down a wall. Knees pulling in. A choked sob that the room swallowed slowly.

Minjo had expected many things from Nurse Paine. Crying was not among them.

She inched forward carefully, staying low, until she had a partial sightline through the gap in the bed skirt. Shapes and light. The glow of a halophone activating. Paine's blurred silhouette on the floor, something small held up in the amber light, a lock of something pale, silver-bright even to her damaged eyes. Hair. Long and silver.

Jihoon's hair.

Paine gripped it like a lifeline.

"April 13, 2055," Paine said, her voice hoarse. "Club Apophis. Five minutes to midnight."

The phone projected a hologram into the dark room. Minjo couldn't make out faces clearly, blurred shapes and moving light, but she didn't need to. She heard sounds. Clinking glasses, upbeat music, layered chatter. A birthday party. Someone singing Happy Birthday with theatrical confidence. She recognized the timbre of that voice even muffled through projection speakers.

MasterGin.

She heard the wink in his voice, "It's going to be you."

The crowd began to chant.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Minjo held herself perfectly still. She was beginning to understand what she was witnessing.

Three. Two. One.

A sound she could interpret without seeing: heavy doors opening. Streetlight bleeding in. She could tell by the way the room's light shifted even through her limited sight. The music stopped mid-note. Absolute silence.

Then a voice she knew.

Uncertain. Slightly embarrassed. Completely ordinary.

"Hi."

Minjo's hand flew to her mouth.

No one on screen moved.

Paine killed the projection. The room plunged back into suffocating silence.

The sound that followed was harder to listen to than anything in the recording. Not sobbing exactly. The specific, ugly sound of a person coming apart when they believe no one can hear them. Ragged breaths scraping against the quiet. The wet sound of grief that has nowhere to go.

Minjo shifted her weight slightly to ease the ache in her knees. Her knee grazed something, the glass shard barely touching it, and the tiny sound it made against the floorboards detonated in the silence.

Paine's breath stopped.

Then the bed was gone. Hauled back with a jarring metallic scrape. Cold air rushed in. A shape loomed over her. Minjo couldn't see the expression clearly but she could read the body language in the set of the shoulders, the raised arm. Something sharp and metallic glinted the ambient light. Shears.

Minjo froze. She calculated what she could: the distance to the door by memory, the approximate angle of the blade by the glint, and her absolute zero percent chance of survival.

She waited.

Above her, something changed. The raised arm didn't fall. Minjo could feel the recalculation happening in the pause, threat assessment shifting, the quality of the silence changing from predatory to something else.

Slowly, the shears lowered.

"I didn't mean to pry," Minjo said. She kept her voice perfectly even. "I just needed a place to hide." She nodded toward the silver strands she could make out in Paine's hand. "You disguised your betrayal with a smaller one. Brilliant."

Paine looked down at the hair. "Twenty years," she whispered. Her voice was entirely hollow. "I gave him twenty years of devotion. I bled for him. He forgot I existed the second that boy walked through the door."

Minjo considered this. "He told you it was going to be you."

"I was the strongest of his disciples," Paine said. "MasterGin had been preparing for centuries. I thought I was the culmination of it all. The pinnacle of his achievement. But I wasn't. None of us were."

The shame left Paine's voice. What replaced it was worse.

"I followed the false god," Paine said, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "And I was envious of the real one."

Paine sank to her knees. She bowed her head deeply, almost pressing her forehead against the dusty floorboards.

"I didn't understand, but I do now. Someone appeared by chance. Seemingly unworthy. And..."

"Chaos," Minjo interrupted flatly. "Just the kind of surprise a god of chaos would find funny."

"No." She shook her head. "Jihoon is one of us. A Child of Apophis. He has to be. He's the Lost One. Please accept my apology," Paine whispered to the floor. "My envy blinded me. I will serve the true Chosen One. As the advocate of Yoon Jihoon, how may I assist you?"

Minjo looked at the blurred shape of the woman kneeling before her. She didn't offer comfort. She didn't offer a speech about forgiveness. The variables of their survival had just changed. She needed to exploit them.

Minjo dusted off her knees and rose.

"Can you get us into the ceremony?"

"Yes."

"Good. I need to know exactly what happened to Jihoon when he entered Club Apophis. I need the logistics of the Opening of the Mouth ceremony, Monstrum, the Old Ways." Minjo reached out and found the silver strands by feel, lifting them from Paine's hand. "And I'll be taking this mutant DNA sample. Thank you for your assistance."




For those still following along for the continuing storyline, this chapter just revealed who the Magic Mirror is in my cyberpunk horror retelling of Snow White. Paine is the mirror to MasterGin's evil queen. lol The Prince and the Huntsman will be revealed, as well as wrapping up the character arcs for Lisa, Ghost, Echo and Jihoon. I estimate there are roughly 4 more chapters left and an epilogue. What a journey!

This post was inspired by the series and wonderful items on this round of Engine Room which ends tomorrow. The setting has so many lovely things, and both outfits are gorgeous.   ...On MasterGin is the Nixon outfit by OneDays. It's one-piece outfit you buy in a single color or fatback.   ...On the long suffering Paine is the Rebis Scholar Garments. It comes in fits for men and women. It has textures in PBR that give the metallic edges sparkle, and a tattered hem.   ...From Milkbath is the Censer. Just wear it and it will trigger a 1 of 4 poses which you can alter in the texture hud. It comes in left and righted version, swing, and non swing.   .... From Cult is the Cornelia boots (shown below) for female avatars. The boots include gear details, and a spooky spinal vertebra heel. They are elegant gothic style with metallic details. But I really love the suede texture options, along with the leather.   ...The Bedroom set is by Eclectica. It includes the bed, dressers, mirrors, and lamps. The mirrors are PBR and will reflect the environment. It comes with a texture hud to change the metal color, and fabrics.   ...From Lore is the Captain's Lounge Chair, tables, and lamp. They are PBR with a hud to change the chair textures.   ...Also from Lore is matching skybox, Nemo's study. Its fantastic with elegant PBR textures.   ...From Duplexity is an art deco Radio.   ...From Ishiku is another stunning crystal glass set, Vintage Floral Decanter. It's mod, so I tinted it green to match my theme.   ...From Puddles is the Royal Scribe's Collection with lectern, feather pen, and book stack.   ...From Apika is the spooky Madame Palmelope, a hand holding a teacup, that when touched, will give you your fortune.   ..In the back, is the Architect Volta fireplace. I tinted the flames green for a spooky effect.

The Apophis series will be taking a break for the first time in almost a year, as I shift to blogging the Fantasy Faire. Be looking forward to it.  Apophis will return after that. 


On Her, Nurse Paine:
Outfit: REBIS - Scholar Garments . LaraX . OMNIPACK [mesh](Engine Room)(2000L)
Censer, pose: MILKBATH - Samael Censer [mesh](Engine Room)(799L)
Boots: CULT - Cornelia [mesh](Engine Room)(369L)
Headdress: ONEDAYs - UNHOLY HEADRESS [UNRIGED]
Hair: Limerence - Tamesis hair [mesh](990L)
Gloves: ContraptioN - Dapper Dandy's Glove, Maitreya [mesh]
Tears: SAXO - Bleeding Eyes lel EVOX Unisex [BOM]
Eyes: VelvetVue - Hibrida blue eyes :: sclera #1 [BOM]
Skin: VOGLIA - ELEKTRA Skin, EvoX, Icy With Brows [BOM]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - RAVEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]

On Him, MasterGin:
Outfit: ONEDAYs - NIXON OUTFIT, Black, LEGACY [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Shoes: Deadwool - Dandy shoes - non rigged - black/silver wingtip [mesh](360L)
Claws: L'Emporio&PL - Oblio Vampire Claws male [mesh](350L)
Hair: bonbon - tame hair, naturals [mesh](439L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

Setting:
Bedroom set: Eclectica - Steampunk Bed [mesh](Engine Room)(850L)
Chairs. tables, lamp: LORE - Captain's Lounge Chair [mesh](Engine Room)(1700L)
Radio: Duplexity - Aetherys Lux Radio - Wood/Gold [mesh](Engine Room)(299L)
Glass set: ISHIKU - Vintage Floral Crown Decanter Dispenser [mesh](Engine Room)(490L)
Books, scroll, feather pen: Puddles - Royal Scribe's Collection [mesh](Engine Room)(300L)
Hand, teacup: Apika - Madame Palmelope [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)
Fireplace: Architect - Volta Fireplace [mesh]
Skybox: LORE - Nemo's Study [PBR] [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.




Thursday, November 27, 2025

Salvage Station: The Pen (Escape from Club Apophis, 28)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: Lisa Liemawr held her phone up like a holy relic in a cathedral of rust.

“Welcome back, Dragonlets!” Her voice hit that perfect, chirpy register, the one that usually sold energy drinks and scandal. “It’s your girl Lisa, coming to you with the exclusive from…”

She dropped her voice to a haunted stage-whisper.

“…The Forbidden Zone.”

She fluttered "spooky fingers" at the lens.

The bold and brash Hexa Herald reporter checked her reflection in the black screen before the recording started. It was a disaster. Her bangs clung to her forehead in greasy, tragic ropes. Her eyeliner was a smudge of war paint.

“No glamour filters today. #NoMakeupChallenge: Hellscape Edition,” she said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. "Today’s vlog is pre-recorded since Wi-Fi here is literally nonexistent, and my battery was raised from the dead via sketchy Monstrum Tech, thanks to our secret mole. #HumanSympathizer. Yay for having enough juice to record my last will and testament! Say hi to the fans, team!”

She whipped the phone around with influencer bravado.

The lens struggled to focus, grainy and grey. It swept across a row of rusted, modular housing units stacked like coffins under a flickering green sign: ATOMIC ESTATES.

Huddled in the long, jagged shadow of the structures were the captured students of Jae Won University. "The Avengers have assembled, folks." But they didn't look like heroes. They looked like refuse.

Ghost wasn’t looking at the camera. He was crouched against a corrugated wall, eyes scanning the laser perimeter like a caged wolf, his fingers tapping a silent, frantic rhythm against his thigh. Calculating.

“Check out the latest in post-apocalyptic streetwear,” Lisa narrated, zooming in on Kyra’s torn pants and the found scrap metal doubling as a prosthetic leg. “Derelicte. So hot right now.”

“Put the phone away, Lisa.”

Kyle Baek surged forward, his hand filling the frame. He didn't look like the sarcastic guard anymore; he looked haunted.

“We are in a concentration camp,” he growled, shoving the camera down. “People here look half-dead. Have some respect.”

Lisa gasped, pulling the phone back and feigning outrage. “It’s called a documentary, Kyle. If we die, I want my autopsy report to pull at least five hundred thousand views.” She turned the camera back on him, zooming in until his furious, dirt-streaked eyebrows filled the frame. “Tell us, Kyle, how does it feel knowing your little dare to Jihoon landed us in Monster Disneyland?”

Kyle flinched as if she’d slapped him. His eyes went wet, then hard. He didn't speak. He just smacked the phone out of her hand.

The camera spun wildly, ...sky, dirt, sky, capturing a blur of dense gray fog and the high-voltage shimmer of the fence. It landed with a thud, face-up.

Auto-focus adjusted. It locked onto what loomed above the camp.

Projected against the dark, smog-choked sky was a massive holographic poster. It showed Jihoon, no, Lathandro, clad in radiant white, luminous and holy, eyes downcast like a golden messiah forgiving their sins.

WELCOME HOME, LATHANDRO.

Lisa knelt to scoop up the phone, her hair brushing the lens. She paused, seeing the image on her screen. The bravado slipped, just for a second.

“That, my followers, is why we are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Nerdy nobody becomes Prince Charming of Monsters. Crazy, am I right?”

She aggressively wiped the lens on her sleeve. “Anyway, here’s the 411. We’re trapped in a radioactive 1950s sitcom running on sewer fumes and despair.”

She swung the camera toward Minjo. The robotics genius was sitting on a pile of scrap, grimly sharpening a stick against a rock.

“What do you think, Girl Genius? Are we glowing yet?”

Minjo stared at her as though Lisa were a misfiring toaster. “No. The radiation warnings are a deception to hide what's really powering The Zone.”

“Oooooh, conspiracy time. Whisper it to Lisa… and to my future Pulitzer committee.”

Minjo didn’t whisper. She lunged.

Thwack.

Her sharpened stick speared a mutant rat inches from Lisa’s boot. It screeched once, then went still. Minjo lifted the fresh kill by the tail, staring dead-eyed into the lens.

“I’m calling it the Entropy Engine,” Minjo said flatly.

“Right...” Lisa side-stepped her, as if Minjo was the first to go insane. “And speaking of despair...”

POOF.

Strawberry-scented smoke billowed around them, too sweet for the filth it drifted through.

“Whoa! Caught in 4K!” Lisa shouted, jumping back as Ghost instantly leveled his own sharpened stick at the pink haze.

The smoke cleared. Standing there, immaculate in a white suit that defied the grime of the camp, was Romance. He looked like he had just stepped off the stage at Inkigayo, smelling of crushed flowers and ozone.

“That, Dragonlets, is a bona fide Jeoseung Saja,” Lisa narrated, masking her relief. “Blink and you missed his career. Give it up for Saja Boy’s own DJ Romance!” She added fake cheering noises. “Tell us, how does a soul-sucking idol end up guarding Hell’s worst zip code?”

Romance covered the lens with a manicured hand. “Stop recording. You want to get us caught? The Children of Apophis have eyes everywhere.”

“No can do, my Maestro of Pink,” Lisa said, ducking under his arm with the agility of a paparazzo. “Lisa’s gotta scoop just as much as a fish’s gotta swim. If I don’t film, I get anxious. And when I get anxious, I cry. And when I cry, I get blotchy. Nobody wants that.”

He sighed. Then his gaze fell on Kyra.

“Kyra,” he said softly.

Lisa zoomed in tight.

The cheerleader was slumped against a crate. Her skin was a terrifying greyish-blue, and the neon veins in her neck flickered ominously. Her cybernetics whined with the brittle, dying-hard-drive sound of something begging for mercy.

“I’m... fine,” she wheezed. “Just... low power mode.”

“Liar,” Romance murmured.

He checked his surroundings, then reached into his pristine jacket. He pulled out a chip with the Monstrum logo on it. It buzzed with energy and smelled faintly of cotton candy.

He knelt, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. With the gentleness of a bomb disposal expert, he slotted the chip into the port behind her ear.

Kyra arched, light washing through her like a pink sunrise. Her optics flared, then stabilized. She gasped, color returning to her cheeks. “Better,” she breathed.

Romance smiled, that practiced, devastating idol smile that had once been plastered on bedroom walls.

Lisa whispered into the microphone. “#ForbiddenLove. One-hit wonder rocks the cradle with a cyborg. Leave your comments below.”

“I heard that,” Romance snapped, standing up. “She’s a college student. Shut your mouth.”

In the background, Ghost watched them, face emotionless. But the camera caught it: the precise moment his hand snaked out. While Romance was distracted defending Kyra’s honor, Ghost pickpocket the Idol and slid the ill-gotten gains into his wrist-mount with a surgeon’s stealth. His Halo-gloves, dead since the boundary, flickered. A tiny, pale blue light pulsed once.

Access.

Ghost hid his hands instantly. But he stiffened.

High above, on a rusting catwalk, a familiar figure stirred, black robes, amber eyes.

Hwan.

Ghost went statue still.

He locked eyes with the Guardian. Hwan had seen the theft. He had seen everything.

Romance was still fussing over Kyra, oblivious. Hwan could have shouted. He could have alerted the Nuns from hell.

Instead, the figure in the tower slowly turned his back.

Permission.

Ghost let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled. A cheerful, tinny jingle played, a distorted, minor-key version of Mr. Sandman played on a broken xylophone.

“Attention, Happy Residents! It is time for the Gratitude Feast! Please proceed to the trough for your daily calorie intake!”

“The trough. Great.” Lisa gagged. “Okay, Pinkie. What’s going on?”

“It’s a mandatory celebration,” Romance said grimly, looking up at the glowing poster of Lathandro. “Master Gin is happy his ‘son’ has returned. So everyone must celebrate too.”

“…Right.” Lisa clicked her tongue, forcing the smile back on. She slapped Plague on the back; he jumped a foot in the air. “Let’s go review the catering, Nerd Snack.”

Lisa followed the shuffling crowd to the center of the plaza. The "Feeder," a man with a scarred face and a butcher’s apron, was happily ladling grey sludge into cupped hands, humming a nursery rhyme.

“Look at them,” Plague whispered, nudging Lisa. “They’re eating it like it’s five-star dining.”

He was right. The residents were shoving the flavorless paste into their mouths with frantic, mindless hunger.

“Okay, Dragonlets. Today on ‘Dystopian Eats,’ we have...” She zoomed in on the grey, bubbling sludge being ladled out of a rusted oil drum. “...Protein paste? Porridge? It smells like wet dog and pennies.”

“Okay," Lisa whispered. "Taste test.”

She took a tiny, tentative sip of the grey soup.

“Oh god.” She coughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It tastes like sadness. Zero stars. Would not recommend.”

She lowered the cup, wiping her mouth. As she did, the camera panned across the crowd, capturing something off.

She zoomed in on a man’s neck as he swallowed.

“Whoa,” she mumbled.

Glowing softly under the grime of his skin were rune tattoos. They pulsed in time with his heartbeat. *Thump-glow. Thump-glow.*

“Marked,” Plague whispered, shivering. “Like inventory. All of them have it.”

Lisa wandered away from the trough, looking for better content—anything to distract from the glowing necks. She found Echo near the drainage outflow, kneeling in the mud.

“Echo?” Lisa gasped, zooming in. “Doing some spring cleaning?”

The camera panned across a neatly hanging row of used tin cans and rocks arranged in a pleasing geometric shape. A garden of garbage.

But Echo was acting strange. Regressed. She was digging in the mud with frantic, childlike intensity.

“What did you get there? A hidden gem? The key to getting out?”

Echo froze. Slowly, she lifted something from the mud.

A teddy bear. Or, it used to be. It was soiled with clay, missing one eye, its fur matted. Next to it lay a small red ball, deflated with age.

Lisa felt the air leave her lungs. The snark died in her throat.

“Lisa?” Echo asked, holding the bear out gently. Her voice was small. “I think... I think I can fix him. I can replace the missing eye with my shirt button...”

“Stop,” Lisa whispered. Then, louder. “Stop right now.”

She stared at the bear. Then she looked toward the edge of the camp, where the drainage pipe poured dark, oily water into the fog. A river that flowed *out* from the city.

“Echo,” Lisa said, her voice shaking violently. “I need you to do me a favor. Find me a bottle. A plastic bottle. Airtight.”

Echo handed the dirty bear to Lisa and darted off.

Lisa held the bear up to the camera. Her hands were trembling.

She stared at the lens. The mask was gone. The influencer was gone. There was only a terrified girl holding a piece of evidence.

“I had one of these,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Back when I thought monsters weren’t real.”

She zoomed in on the missing eye.

“Okay, folks... Time to get real.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and angry. She didn't wipe them away.

“This belongs to a child. A child who probably chased that red ball across the barrier. A kid who never came home.”

“Lisa, please,” Plague appeared at her side, looking terrified. “Keep your voice down. Let’s not draw attention—”

She tore her arm away. “Keep it down? “You think I’m being too loud?” She slammed the ball into his chest. “Tell that to the parents still stapling ‘Missing’ posters to rain-warped bulletin boards. Tell them their babies aren’t lost! They’re here! They’re livestock!”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve—a messy, unglamorous motion

“I will not rest until the world knows about this disgusting place. #ParentsDeserveToKnow.”

She shoved the phone into Plague’s hands.

“Film every face you can find in this cursed place,” she commanded.

Suddenly, a low, heavy thrumming sound echoed from the main gates. The ground vibrated.

The eating stopped. The residents froze, eyes wide with a conditioned terror.

The rusted gates groaned open.

Through the fog rolled a procession of vehicles that belonged in a museum or a nightmare. Vintage Rolls Royces drifted through the fog like funeral carriages.

Figures stepped out — gowns shimmering like spilled oil, jewels blinking like predator eyes.
They crossed the filth with the bored amusement of aristocrats at a petting zoo.

Lisa stared, horrified. “What... what is happening?”

Romance stepped up beside her, his face grim.

“The Gratitude Feast,” he whispered, watching the elites take their seats around the stage. “The humans eat first to look plump for the buyers. And now...”

He gestured to the vampires raising their auction paddles.

“...Now the real feast begins.”



Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoy this ambitious post, (7 characters all in one post. The "7 Dwarfs" together at last). There are lots of sweet post apocalyptic goodies from Salvage Station in this. (And if you look hard, you might even spot Jihoon "Snow White" making a cameo.)  Gobble Gobble


On her, front row left to right, Lisa Liemawr (Happy):
Outfit: FenDuDu - Wasteland Verdict, fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(3688L)
Hair: CAMO - Nyx Braids  [mesh](Salvage Station)(699L)
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: Meshbody - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]
Group Pose: 10sai - Group Pose Stand #WEFIE

On her, Kyra (Sleepy):
Guest Appearance: Aarya Phantomhive, of the Dark Phantom blog.
Pants: AsteroidBox - Deteriorate Pants [mesh](Salvage Station)(289L)
Jacket: CHANDRA - Hyperion Jacket Reborn FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Jaw: Evil Baby - Jaws - Accessory [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)
Makeup: eyecing - Ieku - eyes - liner [mesh](Salvage Station)(30L)
Tattoo: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Polished 02 // Full Tattoo [mesh](Salvage Station)(199L)
Tattoo: SOMEONE - Infected Wounds - Face, Body, Eye [mesh](Salvage Station)(550L)
Tattoo: Fallen Gods - Skychylde, female body +FGInc.+ Canary PG [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Makeup: Stelio - Grungy Eyepaint - Black (EvoX) [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget - Legacy F
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya - Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)

On her, Echo (Dopey):
Helmet: Waffle Science & Research - [W] Civil Defender [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Outfit: The Muses - Triste Bouffon - Ivory [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh]

On her, front, Minjo (Doc):
Outfit: BEARCAT.EGG - Mira Top, Skirt, Legacy [mesh](Salvage Station)(500L)
Pet: AxisMundi - Bittersync-(B)ox-Hand L [animesh](Salvage Station)(800L)
Goggles: MILKBATH - Axel Goggles - Unrigged [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)
Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh]

On him, back row left to right, Ghost (Bashful):
Scanner: Starlit Endeavor - Nomada Scanner, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(300L)
Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Mask: Pucca Firecaster Creations - PFC Ninja (Male) [mesh]
Headband: Last Ride - 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]
Pants: REBIS - Werk Trousers [mesh](350L)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, back middle, Plague (Sneezy):
Helmet: Apika - Femm of War - Helmet [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Shoes: CULT - Wasteland - Legacy M [mesh](Salvage Station)(369L)
Outfit: toksik - Invasion Top (Legacy M) (Black)
Cape: toksik - Invasion Cape M (Unrigged)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]
Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle (Grumpy):
Outfit: ONEDAYs - CLOUD OUTFIT - LEGACY [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Tattoo: AURO - The Prophet : White // 25 // EVOX  [mesh](Salvage Station)(450L)
Necklace: HAUNT - Choke Chain [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)
Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]
Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)


Setting:
Neighborhood: LORE Atomic Estates Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1200L)
Bench: Dirty Rat - Derelict Bench [mesh](Salvage Station)(415L)
Cart: Dirty Rat - Derelict Cart [mesh](Salvage Station)(375L)
Billboard: Dirty Rat - Vintage Billboard w/o probe [mesh]
Bathroom: Eclectica - Wasteland Bathroom Set  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Broken Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Old N' Worn Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Alarm Stystem: Puddles - Tin Can Trap, Soft linked [mesh](Salvage Station)(200L)
Jeweler's work area: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Desk: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Desks [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Toolboxes: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Toolboxes [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Necklace display: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Necklaces [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Welders: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Hand Welders [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Lamp: Duplexity - Nuk-a-Lamp (Ceiling) [mesh](Salvage Station)(249L)
Dunes: Fundati - Beach Cliffs C1 [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: character shots, inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.  








Thursday, August 7, 2025

Midnight Order: Escape from Club Apophis, 10

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: A dense fog curled over the stadium like a digital filter gone rogue, muting color and casting everything in a washed-out grey.

Still, the crowds came.

Fans poured in from all sides, decked out in crimson Jae Won Dragons jerseys, reactive face paint, and pulsing halo banners. One projected a flickering “GO DRAGONS!” in bold red above a kid’s head. Another shimmered with a sarcastic thumbs-down emote, aimed squarely at the freak weather.

Overhead, news drones buzzed like flies drawn to prophecy.

Then Lisa Liemawr’s voice dropkicked the stadium speakers like a pop idol crash-landing onto the PA system.

“Don’t adjust your glasses. No, your optics aren’t glitching,” she purred. “It is seriously foggy out here! Like—OMG, who ordered the haunted mansion DLC for opening day? Someone cancel the séance and bring back the sun!”

Her laughter crackled like static glitter.

“But don’t panic. Your girl Lisa is locked in with a full drone squad, so you won’t miss a single steamy second of our cyber-prince, Lathandro, making his legendary baseball debut!”

She winked into the cam drone. “This is Hexa Herald Live, your #1 source for everything scandalous, cyber-beautiful, and definitely not school-sanctioned.”

A sharp burst of static.

Then a clipped male voice: “We apologize for the unauthorized transmission. For official coverage of the Jae Won Dragons Season Opener, please connect to the Jae Won Athletic Portal.”

Cut to Lisa, already halfway up a stairwell toward the upper deck, red hair swinging as her drone hovered behind. “Okay, okay. Maybe I wasn’t technically authorized to hijack the PA system. Boo, censorship!”

She gestured behind her at the looming glass skybox, carved like a luxury mausoleum into the stadium’s upper ring.

“That, my scandal-hungry sweets, is the brand new Obsidian Lounge. Gilded ceilings. Black-tinted views. Total donor drama. And I’m getting in.”

Cut to her crouched by the matte-black door, holding up a silver device.

“I know what you’re thinking. Lisa, isn’t this wildly illegal?”

Grin.

“Only if you get caught.”

Click. The door hissed open, icy air slipping out like breath from a crypt.

“Behold. Where megadonors sip nutrient wine... and pretend to care about sports.”

She steps inside. The drone follows, revealing sterile opulence: hover chairs without a crumb in sight, temp zones, anti-UV glass, mood lighting like a Bond villain’s spa.

“Bougie much?”

No chatter. No drinks. Just rows of blank black monitors. 

Lisa’s grin falters. She shivers, rubbing her arms. “Okay, exclusive tour complete. Time to bounce before they send security.”

She spun to leave, and froze.

Where there had been an open doorway, now a thick curling fog coiled inward, slow and deliberate, seeping across the polished marble like something alive.

Her Cam Bot whirred, zooming ahead, just before static fuzzed the lens.

The tall figure stepped from the fog like royalty arriving late on purpose. His heels clicked with absolute disdain. A cape of white trailed behind him like smoke. He paused on the marble threshold, lifted his gloved hand, and slid his sunglasses up just enough to hide the faint, unnatural glow beneath.

Lisa’s eyes widened. Her camera bot hovered uncertainly beside her, still streaming.

She forced her signature grin. “Okay, Dragonlets, plot twist! We have a surprise cameo from none other than Dr. Lucien Ginerva, founder of GIN AESTHETICA™, biotech visionary, and the megadonor behind this gorgeously extra Obsidian Lounge! Aaaand I definitely did not break in to get here.”

She gave a theatrical shrug, trying to keep it light. “So, what do you think, Doc? Worth the donation?”

MasterGin's smile was elegant and rehearsed, yet somehow colder than the fog curling around his boots. "Functional. Though the security is appallingly thin."

Her laugh flickered, high, hollow, and a little too loud. “Haha, classic rich-guy shade. Sooo... you here to catch your golden boy’s debut? Lathandro’s big moment?”

He turned slowly, savoring the question like a fine wine. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he purred. Then his smile thinned. “We need to speak privately.”

He pivoted with surgical grace, navy leather gloves catching the light, each fingertip tipped in gleaming gold. As he flexed his hand, a visible arc of electricity jumped claw to claw.

The first thing to die was Lisa’s cam drone.

Zzzt.... A snap of blue light. The drone spiraled and crashed in a plume of smoke.

Then he turned to her, claws still humming.

“You and your cheerleader accomplice should have stopped at fan merch,” he said smoothly. “But you profited off what doesn’t belong to you. You sold what I created: the face, the body, the name, the branding. Everything Lathandro is a registered trademark under GIN AESTHETICA™... right down to the perfectly placed mole on Yoon Jihoon’s ass.”

Lisa stepped back, posture faltering. “You can’t… you wouldn’t,” she said, her voice stretched taut behind the flicker of a falling grin. “Let’s make a deal. I’ve got reach. Influence. You want to control the narrative, right? I can help—”

“Enough. Your little puppet show’s over,” he said coldly. “My lawyers are en route to your apartment. Yes, where your real body sleeps behind a firewall that won’t hold.”

Her avatar twitched, lips flickering with a static stammer.

“I look forward to your prison stream, my dear. No filters, no enhancements. Just you, as you really are. A tragic downgrade.”

Zzzt.... Another flash of voltage.

Lisa’s avatar collapsed like a doll with cut strings, glassy eyes flickering once before going dark.

With a whiff of ozone and scorched plastic, MasterGin stepped past her crumpled body as if she were a steaming pile of refuse befouling his polished obsidian floor.

From behind the tinted windows, Lucien Ginerva raised his chrome-sight binoculars.

The thick fog gripped the stadium like white velvet steeped in rot, soft and suffocating, leaving just one immaculate sightline: Jihoon, alone in the dugout, head bowed.

He wasn’t wearing the high-tech gear personally designed for him. Not the UV-proof bodysuit laced with nanofibers. Not the smart boots. Not the reenforced carbon-fiber bat etched with the Lathandro™ brand.

Instead, Jihoon was with her, that grimy little machinist with a spinal column of schematics. She was touching his Lathandro, defiling those perfect cheekbones with drugstore sunscreen.

Gin’s grip tightened on the viewing rail. His rings creaked.

*I warned you, Little Worm… You don’t belong among them anymore. Daylight will crack your pretty dollface.*

Jihoon’s eyes immediately flew open and frantically searched the stands for The King Cobra.

From his lofty perch, the doctor stepped into the hazy daylight, his long white hair whipping like fire. In one hand: an ornate bottle rimmed in gold—an exact twin of the SPF 100 Nano-Serum he had sent Jihoon.

He flicked a gold claw. The bottle opened. Then, slow and deliberate, he poured its priceless contents across the ground. The serum hissed as it hit the warm concrete.

No smile. No parting glance. Just a turn, heels clicking into fog like a metronome counting down to tragedy.

Outside the skybox, he paused.

Above him, the stadium’s half-dome loomed, the curved jumbo screen flashing Jihoon’s face in slow motion as he stepped up to bat, smiling nervously at the crowd.

The fans chanted, “LATHANDRO! LATHANDRO!”

And by the time the King Cobra reached the garage, the fog had thinned. A black limousine idled. Diplomatic plates gleamed. Gold flags on the hood bore the crest: a snake swallowing the sun.

Just behind it, sleek, low, and quietly seething, hovered his personal car, penned in by the limo.

His eyes narrowed. 

This wasn’t a pickup. It was a leash.

The chauffeur stepped out: tall, faceless, chrome-masked, “The Ruler is expecting you. Your flight to America is waiting.”

MasterGin said nothing. His claws tapped once against each other. Then he turned, flung his cape over one shoulder like armor, and entered the waiting car with a haughty sneer.

The door hissed shut behind him like a blade into its sheath.

Through the rear window, the fog that cloaked the stadium began to dissolve, retreating like a fading shield.

The crowd roared. A bat cracked. Then a gut-wrenching screech cut through the air.

A terrible hush fell over the stadium.

Ambulances screamed past as the limo glided onto the elevated expressway. 

Enraged, MasterGin’s hand slammed the console. Mozart’s Requiem surged through the cabin, loud and relentless.

He sat rigid, every muscle locked tight as he fought the flood inside, -- the grief, the anger, the silent plea.

A single tear slipped down behind his dark sunglasses. Hot. Traitorous.

He wiped it away.

No one should ever see cracks in a perfectly sculpted mask.


For followers who made it this far in the ongoing Apophis series, thank you. This is an ending but with a strong option continue in a sequel. 

Midnight Order is going strong and this round there are several gothic themes not covered before, such as Kpop Demons and the Dark Ages! For this image, I focused on Elegant and Gold. MasterGin is wearing the OneDays Regalia Outfit gold fatpack. The cape comes separate. A single color version is 350L, You know I love me some fancy.   ...Speaking of fancy, check out the gorgeous ISHIKU Dionaea guided crystal drink and bootle set. I hope you can see from the picture how nice it is. Masterful textures and materials.  ...And it goes perfectly with the Eclectica- Gothic Bar Set. I love the arches on the wall and dresser display! The barstool includes several poses, the bar includes useful poses for the bartender including cutting limes, polishing glass, pouring wine, stacking glasses. It can Rez bar items like tap, port, wine, limes, and anyone can sit on bar to trigger items. Just touch the glass/bottle/barrel to get your drink.   ...My bartender for the image is the Whats Lost Spirits TV MAN. His face inside the tv is an aniamated eye. It's mod so I gave him a slight gold tint. to make it fit with slightly cyber theme instead of retro, I hid his rabbit ears antennas. He is a very fun sculpture!   ... {anc} always excells at elegance and mood. The panel lamp stands are more soft winners that can add a dreamy polish to a room.   .... From Random Matter is the Stargazer [Part II], part of a themed set. You can find other items in the at thier booth in Midnight Order.  ... From CABALPIER is the elegantly twisted Forgotten Birdcage. I included a 2nd image below so you can see the poor bird who didn't make it.


On him, MasterGin:
Outfit, cape: Onedays Nightborn Regalia Outfit gold fatpack, Athletic [mesh](Midnight Order)(1500L)
Bottle, glass: ISHIKU Dionaea Guilded Crystal Set[mesh](Midnight Order)(470L)
Hair: Ginko Hair #97 Hair - Rigged, Male [mesh]
Gloves: CURELESS[+] Nepenthes Glove L / LEGACY M[mesh]
Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)
Glasses: Kumaki Glasses K_gs Kasha_R2 [mesh]
Eyes: S0NG Vampy, Old Ice Eye [BOM]
Skin: Skin Arcana Maverick, FAIR [BOM]
Head: LeLUTKA CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Pose: ZZANG Strength 002 (edited in firestorm)

Setting:
Bar: Eclectica Gothic Bar set [mesh](Midnight Order)(550L)
Globe: Random Matter Stargazer [Part II] Globe, Gold [mesh](Midnight Order)(125L)
Lamps: {anc} panel lamp stand 2Li (amber) [mesh](Midnight Order)(269L)
Birdcage: CABALPIER Forgotten Birdcage <PBR>  [mesh](Midnight Order)(345L)
Bartender: Whats Lost Spirits WLS - TV MAN  [mesh]
PBR Walls, Floor: Erfe Design Medusa Floor PBR Material [PBR]
Skybox: CANARUN Rock/Concrete Loft Skybox [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots, hi-res, midday sky :