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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Esmii'nesta'tawaar




Event: Cold Comfort


When the fight started everyone in the group was ready. Esmii got her staff from its holster on her back, ready to defend herself. However she noticed that the enemies were more interested with the others in the group, this annoyed Esmii a bit, which added to the anger she was already feeling. While she wasn’t getting attacked she used this time to plan her next move, and she decided to help by powering up one of the members in the group, when they can attack the enemies. While she was doing this she noticed that an Assassin had casted a big attack at Sven and she was extremely worried, but Khaliun was able to help him defend against the Assassins attack. Esmii shouted to Khaliun, “Thank you for helping Sven.”

After everyone else in the group had defended themselves, and begun their offensive spells. Esmii used this opportunity to cast a boost to help power up Sven. She drew in her manas required for the internal Chemical spell. “Sven, I hope this boost will help.” After she casted the boost and Sven had attacked, she began to feel someone staring at her with murderous intent, she glanced round and noticed that the Assassins attention was now on her. With the Assassin staring at her, she felt slightly terrified as his eyes locked onto her, like a predator hunting their prey.

With the intimidation getting to Esmii, it almost proves to be a mistake. She was more focused on the Assassin, she didn't notice one of the blue monks attacked from her blind spot. "Oh no." she mumbled. Somehow by pure luck Esmii managed to avoid a fatal strike, instead they grazed her. Then out of nowhere a powerful Kinetic slam that knocked back the Blue monk. That was close. she thought, all while wondering where that Kinetic magic came from. A second Blue monk attacked Esmii by charging straight at her, this time she was ready and created a protective bubble from Binding magic. Just as she finished defending against the second Blue monk, the Assassin decided to attack her. Giant rusty claws came from the ground and straight for her, she tried to defend herself with Chemical magic in the form of corrosion, sadly it wasn't enough and the claws grabbed her and began tearing into her flesh. Esmii thought she was going to die, however the same thing happened to the first Blue Monk. A Kinetic blast dislodged the claws from her flesh causing more damage. The Assassin was pushed back away, but it didn't affect him as much as it did as the Blue Monk.

Once she was free, Esmii crumpled to the floor. She was in agony from that attack,she had multiple wounds on her body and she was bleeding pretty bad. This is bad. I need to stop the bleeding. The Assassin thought she was finished and decided to gloat. "Tick tock!" Then with a menacing smile decided to let her bleed to death and walked away. Esmii used this opportunity to draw, once she was ready she used Binding to stop the bleeding. It took some, luckily because of her medical skills she was successful in stopping the bleeding.

Once she stopped the bleeding, she realised that so much of the battle had passed. The Abbot was trying for a big gamble, wanting to wipe himself and the students from existence. She dragged herself over towards another student, it was Yulia. Together they used their most powerful spells to defend against the atomic energy that was upon them. They were successful, but Esmii was too exhausted, she fell to her knees, panting. Yulia helped her up for a second shouting for Sven to come get her. He picked her up so she could rest and recover her strength, it seemed like the chaos that had just happened, could just be the beginning.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren, Oksana @Ti, Yuliya @Suicharte, Marz @Th3King0fChaos, Yvain @jasbraq, Roslyn @Fallenreaper, Khaliun @YummyYummy, Sven, and Penny


The Aftermath ||

It was, simply put, a brawl. Even as the Hegelans fought their way out of confinement, the world above shook with magic and fury. It all came to a head with a crazed hegumen losing control of an atomic blast when he found himself once again cut off from his ability to use magic. It was only a momentary lapse, but it was enough to unleash further devastation across the surrounding countryside.

Kirimansk was not spared either. If those strong in the Gift were able to resist the incredible force of the explosion, those not were - as usual - helpless amid the collateral of their magical betters’ clash. Some hundred fifteen souls perished in one fell instant, but the heroes stood triumphant, the tyrannical enemies vanquished at their feet. At least a dozen of the monks - false and true - lay dead around them and about a third of the monastery of St. Artyom lay in ruins. Some people embraced each other or the newly-recovered Marz. Some celebrated.

Sven flopped onto his back, laughing, crying - his emotions in turmoil. Esmii fell to the ground beside him and embraced him. The enormous lad thrust one arm in the air and stretched out his middle finger. “And fuck you one more time.” He shook his head, lying there, adrenaline still coursing through him. “Yeah, fuck you!” agreed Penny. Esmii stuck her middle finger up in the yanii way. Yuliya chimed in with a few words in Vossoriyan and Oksana joined her. It was cathartic. It was a desperate sort of relief, and Sven recognized it as such. He was alive: alive and well - and so was Esmii, but how many others had died because they had picked a fight with some very bad people? Would it have been better to step aside? Marz and a few dozen other hegelans were now outside, blinking, stretching, glancing uneasily up at the sky. The monks that had survived were being rounded up by the mountain-dwellers. Some turned tail and ran. Some accepted their fate.

Penny sat on the ground as well, ‘cross-legged’. She leaned back and took a few deep breaths. People were already healing each other and she would assist as needed. It was a binder’s sacred duty, after all. First, however, she just… breathed, feeling her lungs fill, the life that yet carried on in her chest. Yet, it was unsatisfying. Looking over at Sven and Esmii, she was - as she had often been during this week and a half - keenly aware of Ashon’s absence and the danger he was likely in hunting that vile beast in Kerremand. More than that, though, it was the smell: there was dust and fire in the air. For all that she lived, other people’s stories had ended, in sudden flashes of fear and pain that they had been helpless against. The past year had taught her to not give a damn about those who initiated violence - she had sent a dozen or more to hell by her own hand and would continue to do so as was her divine prerogative - but the innocents had done nothing. To callously employ magics that killed indiscriminately… She started to gather herself.

Then, a shadow fell across her and the perrenchwoman looked up, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon glare. It was Marz, and while he stood closest to her, he addressed them all. “Aye, take yer moment,” he allowed, “I reckon’ ye’ve earned it. We all ‘ave, but it’s only fer a moment.” A few of the other hegelans nodded somberly, and one - a great, grizzled giant of an older man - spoke up. “They’ve been keepin’ us in there, working underground.” He sniffed and glanced about at the scenes of devastation nearby, muttering under his breath momentarily. “Workin’ on chaos marble weapons.”



The Enemy Moves ||



Marz turned the weapon in his hands over a couple of times as the other hegelans and then his fellow students looked its way. “An’ there’s a lot more where they came from,” he confirmed.

Khaliun floated quietly nearby, her two mercenary companions no more than a couple of yards distant. The light of the setting sun burned vast and golden-orange behind her. Yvain crossed his arms. “And, correct me if I’m wrong, but we still haven’t found the boxes that we came here for.”

“I think is safe we can say they are ones with anti-magic device, no?”

Penny, brow furrowed, clambered to her feet and nodded. “If we can use magic again, we can use that to track them, right?” She nodded further, recalling. She glanced about, realizing that she was the only one who had been part of last year’s clandestine operation on Isla d’Amato. “Last year,” she admitted, “I was called by the late Paradigm -” She quickly made the sign of the Pentad. “To undertake a... task. There, we encountered… items similar to these. When active, they would give off a very particular sonic and magnetic signature.” It was burned into her memory and there was no forgetting the feel of it: how she had nearly died, how those horrid snake people that the others so loved had kept her locked up and isolated, how they had turned those infernal devices on, how they had done it again and again. “I can recognize it. I can track it. If I’m within sensing range, I can lead you there.”

“But the shchool wants us to retrieve theshe thingsh?” Sven retorted. He shook his head, unafraid to question authority. “I shay they’re a weapon of terror. We should deshtroy them.”

Yuliya pursed her lips and nodded. “You know what? I agree with him.” She glanced about. “How many people still alive if these things are not here?”

Penny, once again, found herself disagreeing with her friend. “Guys,” she interjected amid the burgeoning consensus, “We’re forgetting something.”

“And that is…?” Yvain pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against.

“We don’t know who made them,” Roslyn interjected. “Or where they came from,” Penny agreed. “And if they’re still out there, they’ll just make more.”

Marz nodded uneasily, stroking his scruffy beard. “Aye, and we should be ready.” He scowled.

"Yes, and magic keeps going in and out now!" Oksana chimed in, sharing the others' concern. With so many speaking and so quickly, it had been difficult for her to keep up, but she'd caught that much. Penny nodded. “I mean, it's an improvement,” Roslyn offered, “but also another mystery we should probably get to the bottom of.”

“Ehhh, eheh." Marz scratched at the back of his head, a bit sheepish, but proud, nonetheless. "That was... actually the lo’ of us." He gestured towards his fellow mountain-dwellers. This wondrous thing -” He gestured towards an arm-sized mechanism held by a rather heavyset fellow, who smiled at the compliment and blushed. “Not you, yeh tub o' lard!" he barked, and a few of them laughed. “The device. It's an anti-anti-magic device, I guess yeh could call it." He shook his head and another hegelan interjected. "Needs a better name." Marz waved him away dismissively. “I know, I know, alright!?" He turned back to the others. “Anyhow, Thah's what's been givin' yeh yer magic back in fits n' starts." He posted hsi hands on his hips matter-of-factly. “And if we could manage somethin' like that in secret, in a Gods-damned prison, then I give us a damn good shot o' reverse-engineering one o’ them things an’ finding an even prettier way teh counter it.”

Yvain crossed his arms again. “Impressive," he admitted, nodding along, "But isn’t it all a bit of a moot point when this town is crawling with Volti and their hired thugs?” He looked to Yuliya for support. “Have we not forgotten that she and I were accosted and nearly murdered by them?”

Not quite facing the perrenchman, Sven rolled his eyes. Hard to forget when you’ve reminded us at least three times already, he thought, but he said nothing.

"Is true," she confirmed. "They need death."

Esmii passed a concerned look around. “We can’t just forget about the chaos marbles,” she reminded them, and the hegelans nodded in chorus. “I’ve seen what they can do and it’s... terrifying.”

“We need get them,” an elder hegelan rasped in half-way passable Avincian. “We need break them.”

“And who here can handle a chaos marble?” Yvain asked, glancing at Khaliun’s hammer. “I know of two.” Penny and Yuliya glanced at each other. “I think Yuliya and I can,” the former advised. “Maybe we should split," she continued. "At least two who can handle the marbles with our hegelan friends to lead them. The rest with me to find the crates.”

“To destroy them?” Roslyn asked pointedly, still aware that they were not necessarily all on the same page.

Then, Khaliun spoke her first words since the encounter. “They’re moving,” she said simply, raising her mighty weapon with the help of kinetic magic. “Who?” Yuliya prodded, shaking her head. “Always I tell this girl, say full sentence! She never listen.”

The tethered tilted her head to the side. “The Volti.” She blinked. “Dozens of them.”



Action Opportunities ||



Welcome to the penultimate chapter of Cold Comfort! Our group of students has not only managed to finally reunite with the recently-escaped Marz, they have also become aware of the anti-magic device managed to survive the battle with the crazed abbot and the false monks of the Order of St. Artyom. However, the town of Kirimansk has once again paid a heavy price. As the ten youths weigh whether or not that was worth it, a new opportunity and a potentially deeper crisis present themselves, intertwined: The hegelans reveal that they were kidnapped from their homes specifically for the purpose of crafting a weapons using the terrifying power of chaos marbles. There is, in fact, an entire arsenal of the things hidden within the sacred caves. The anti-anti-magic device (better name pending) that they have developed will allow people within about a three hundred yard bubble to use magic normally, even within an anti-magic zone. Doing so, they may finally be able to find the crates that they were sent here for. What they do when that comes to pass remains up in the air and very much undecided. First, they need to get there, and fast. Before any further discussion can take place, Khaliun reveals that she has sensed multiple forms moving in a coordinated manner. She believes these to be agents of the infamous terrorist group known as the Dieci Volti Nascosti, one of whose members assaulted and nearly murdered Yuliya and Yvain a few days earlier. The clock is ticking and now things become a desperate race against time and a well-ensconced enemy with considerable resources as well as nebulous motivations and potentially hidden power. Before any action may be taken, the group must decide:

OOC: Where each of them stand on what to do with the boxes and chaos marbles.
IC: Where each of them stand on the boxes and chaos marbles.
IC: How they'll be splitting themselves as a group, if at all, and how they'll approach the Dieci Volti agents at work throughout the city.

Best of luck and happy posting! Most of this will be handled in our discord server, aside from your main forum posts. I expect that a good deal will be played out live this coming Saturday.
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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Cold Comfort


Character Development Scene
Aftermath: Pain with a Hint of Guilt.
Scene Timing: During Force’s post, when they took time to heal up.


Roslyn's ache began to numb, but her limbs were still heavy. She gritted her teeth as she fought past the sensation. She didn't even know what caused the most damage, the fight or the explosion. Not that it mattered in the end. Her hand flopped over her bag's cover and reached inside. The sound of glass clinking caught her attention.

She frowned at the odd noise, but Sven's shout caught her attention. Her eyes turned to the direction just in time to spot the man fall backwards. Upon hitting the ground, he let out a few laughs followed by crying. All of it seemingly because he was glad they had survived. Esmii, his Yasoi girlfriend, fell beside him while giving him an embrace.

A pang of longing hit Roslyn. Her expression softened and lingered on the pair.

Maybe one day I might have something like that, she thought.

Sven and Penny exchanged gestures and insults, their tone the casual play. Others swiftly joined in with their versions. The aftermath's tension lifted from the air. A question prodded her from the hidden crevices of her mind.

What about the boxes? Roslyn's frown returned, but for a different reason now.

Impulsively, her gaze studied the surroundings around her. The monastery's grounds, once plain and simple, lay in shambles. Pieces of rock buried deep in the ground while Helgeans rounded up the surviving false monks. Some broke down and others tried to flee, only for their prisoners to give chase.

Could we have... handled this better? Were we the best choice for this mission? Part of her mind whispered no, but her guilt echoed differently.

Lost in thoughts, Roslyn hadn't noticed the sound of footsteps approaching her.

While Esmii is hugging Sven and trying to find out if he is ok, she looks around to see if Roslyn was fine, worried about her new friend’s safety.
Roslyn, where are you, are you ok?

Just then, Esmii noticed Roslyn. From the expression that she had on her face, she looked very emotional or possibly hurt. Feeling a strong urge to help she tried to get to her. Esmii tried to get up off the floor, she was struggling, still feeling fatigued from the attack from that yanii assassin.

“Sven, could you help me stand please? I want to check on Roslyn.”she asked with a smile, hiding her exhaustion.

Sven wasn't sure at first, but he agreed helping his Esmii to stand up then she slowly limped. She almost slipped a few times, but regained her balance quickly and pushed forward making her way to Roslyn. As she got closer to her, she held her hands out in front of her. Upon reaching Roslyn, she sat down beside her and hugged her.

“Roslyn, is something wrong? Do you need me to heal you?”

Pulled from her daze, Roslyn's eyes widened when she felt the girl’s embrace. Her chest inhaled and her head turned to see Esmiis' worried expression. Words escaped her, unable to form the thoughts in her head properly. The most dominant sensation, numbness, washed away everything else.

"I-I'm sore. I've never been in actual combat before. Just sparred at the school..."

A shakiness edged into her voice as she closed her eyes. Roslyn let the soft breath inhale and fill her, anchoring her to the moment.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay, but I did get hurt. I have some bandages in my bag...give me a second."

Her hand reached into the bag. Something sharp sliced into her flesh causing her to jerk it back. Blood dripped down from the small cut on her finger, the pain throbbed slightly in the muscle.

"Shit, what?!?"

She glanced down and pulled open the small flap. Instantly, she spotted the shattered glass. Cautiously, her eyes traced the source to one of her bottles. The blue bottle had busted into many pieces. It rested against the inferno blanket now drenched in the strong liquid. She sighed then thumped her head against the wall's ruins.

Seeing Roslyn twitch in pain, Esmii guessed that Roslyn's hand was now cut from something in her bag. Going through her own satchel that's on the side of her waist. She pulls out a small medical kit. Placing it on her lap, begins rummaging through it, she pulls a small cloth from it. Taking Roslyn's hand she inspects the wound. Looks to be a minor cut, nothing too serious, so no magic was required. Esmii's nose twitched, an odor caught her attention, It was alcohol. Roslyn's hand smelled of it. At least the wound was disinfected. With ease, Esmii began to warp Roslyn's finger up in a bandage.

“I can smell alcohol on your hand. Did you have a bottle in your bag that broke?”

She asked Roslyn while wrapping the bandage. Once Roslyn was sorted, she went through her satchel once more, pulling another bit of cloth.

"Let's get the shards of glass out of your satchel so you don't cut yourself again."

"I don’t think just one broke... The potato vodka doesn't really have a smell, but the Blue Boomcherry Buster does. I should've known better than to bring them along, but..."

Roslyn released a breath at her idiocy. They didn’t exactly stop anywhere else before reaching the blacksmith.

Esmii took a small bit of cloth from her med pack. Using this, she tied it around on top of the bandage so the blood doesn't seep through.

“There we go. This should help. Also if you need to I can put some things in my bag.”

Esmii smiled and started to help Roslyn to empty her bag, sort out the broken bottle and pieces of glass, and helped her to sort out her things, to see if anything else was broken.

"Thanks. I didn't expect this task to turn into... well, this."

Esmii gave her a warm smile.“You're welcome, it’s no trouble.”

Roslyn cautiously dug through her bag and surveyed the damage. She gingerly plucked the shards out before passing them to Esmii. Once she took the last piece, she paused. Her eyes narrowed as she brought up an unharmed bottle of Blue Boomcherry Buster.

"Well, that's really lucky. We’re having a shot of this when we get back to the academy. Please hold that, I think the other two are just cracked."

Taking the bottle from Roslyn. She carefully places it down, not to break it.

“That's lucky a bottle survived, hopefully that is every bit that's broken.”

Once all the glass was emptied from the satchel. Esmii began folding the cloth on itself, covering the shards of glass so that no glass falls out onto the floor and causing an accident when the cloth is folded and the glass covered Esmii moves it to one side.

“So, apart from the cut on your finger, how are you feeling? You don't have to answer yet, if it is too difficult. I am here for you, whenever you need to talk.”

"Aside from a few nasty wounds, I'm okay physically. Mentally and emotionally, I'm... not sure how to explain it. Numb, maybe?"

Roslyn's voice cracked a bit before she turned to focus on the bag.

"Damn it, just like I thought. The other two bottles cracked."

She pulled each one out to show Esmii, unsure how to save the meager liquid left.

"The rest -aside from the soaked blanket- looks pretty good. Even the puffer chicken eggs."

Roslyn chuckled then pulled the makeshift first aid kit from her bag.

"I was worried this might’ve gotten soaked as well. It’s just the outside that’s damp."

She shifted it to the side while she lifted up her sleeve to reveal a shallow gnash beneath. It ran up the length of her forearm from midway to the elbow. It appeared to be fresher than others as she presented her arm to the healer.

"Ready?"

Esmii looked at Roslyn, she was angry. she asked her before, then looked at the gnash on her arm. Esmii wanted to shout at her, but refrained from doing so. Taking Roslyn's arm, placing it on her lap. She looked at the arm up and down, analyzing the wound. Bandages won't be able to heal this gash, it's going to have to be healed with Binding. She wasn't sure if she had the energy to fully heal it, but she had to try. Esmii started to draw, her hands hovering just over the wound as the cells in Roslyn's arm started to reattach themselves.

“WHY DIDN'T YOU SHOW ME THIS EARLIER.” Esmii let her emotions take over her Calm down Esmii, calm down. “Sorry I didn’t meant to shout”

When Esmii shouted, Roslyn jerked. However, her arm remained on Esmii’s leg. She stared at her friend as her words became unstuck in her throat.

"It's just a gash. I've had worse in the brewery. No point in getting worked up over it." Roslyn quietly answered.

“I got upset because it could of been worse, I'm sorry I let my emotions get the best of me”

"It's okay. And yes, it could've. But it's not. You don’t look so good yourself. I'm not really good with binding...but we can use the bandages."

Roslyn relaxed as she let the healer finish.

Slowly the gnash healed. Exhaustion was starting to set in for Esmii. But she pushed through it as she wanted to heal Roslyn properly, she didn’t want her to be in any pain or discomfort.

Come on Esmii, you can do this.

"Esmii, are you going to be alright? We can use the bandages, it's not an issue. Don't drain yourself."

Immediately, Roslyn's other hand rested on Esmii's shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in concern and pleaded for her to stop.

"It's all right. You're exhausted. I'm okay, really."

Esmii looked at Roslyn, with tears in her eyes, as she was trying to push herself.

“Ok Roslyn, I managed to stop the bleeding, but I think I'll stop and rest after I've cleaned the wound.”

Esmii started to feel really tired from her injuries, however she was starting to feel drained and if she had carried on longer she might have put herself at risk by pushing herself. She rested her head on Roslyn’s shoulder, and hugged her again.

“I'm sorry again for shouting, I'm just feeling really tired, and I think that I might have pushed myself too much.” Great now I feel like I’m hindering everyone

"Okay, just lean on me."

Roslyn gently wrapped Esmiis' arm on her shoulder. Watching her footing, she raised her right leg first and brought the taller woman up with her. The difference five inches made was ridiculous. With wide eyes and pursed lips, Roslyn managed to help Esmii to Sven who quickly aided her.

Mumbling a thanks, she released her grip. She flashed one last worried glance in her friend's direction and went to help the others.

Esmii notices that Roslyn is worried about her and feels bad.“Thank you Roslyn, I think of you as a good friend. I will be ok, I just need to rest a little.”


OOC: Omitted last bit.

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by dragonpiece
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dragonpiece

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The Little Sad Mouse



The little sad Mouse had left the meeting to 'get some air', which was code for the youth's building frustrations. He stepped outside, standing apart clearly from cazenax and sirrahi alike as a human, and let his senses rove across the city.

He found An Zenui a lively place at night, despite its outward veil of tranquility. Repair work of more silent varieties was being carried out up on the large houses that perched atop the cliffs. The thin coating of sand from the previous morning's storm that seemed to cover everything was under attack from teams of sirrahi who made their way up and down the streets with brooms, dusters, and sacks. They talked and sung quiet work songs as they went, the team closest to him gradually making its way out of sight. Fiske turned his attention elsewhere. In the distance, cats yowled and dogs barked. A quartet of men in dark uniforms headed vaguely in the direction of the hideout's entrance down a midsized road, chattering amongst themselves in their native tongue. The youth knew virtually none of the language, but he did recognize one word: Potés-Palix.

Then, there was a scream, south-southwest, in the direction one of the sirrahi work teams had been heading. The uniformed men hadn't noticed the human interloper yet, but he saw two of them turn and look in that direction. He could certainly get there before them if he wished, but perhaps he should do something to delay the other two or at least provide warning. That was, if he cared enough to do so. Fiske had always been good at looking out for himself, and there was likely a reward should he turn in dangerous conspirators.

Frustration boiled up in the young boy as his own prowess was downplayed and made to look like a childish joke. He would've loved nothing more but to punch a wall as hard as he could yet with everything bustling around him made it too risky for his liking. Then he heard the one word he knew, annoyed by it. Potés-Palix again? Who did we involve ourselves with? Why did we involve ourselves with them anyway?

The scream caught Fiske's attention. He knew he should avoid to be involved with that, yet it seemed as though his curiosity had taken over. He tried his hardest to distract the two that had yet to look the way of the scream. A couple of illusionary Sirrahi punching each other might've kept their attention. Once that would be dealt he could see what happened.

For a moment, confusion reigned. One of the guards shouted and pointed. He started moving in the direction of the surprisingly complex illusion. The other hurried to catch up. However, as they drew nearer, the illusion became less convincing. Perhaps Fiske should not have tried something so complex and involved: two separate figures of a species he had less familiarity with, moving in a rapid and complex manner. Perhaps it wasn't curiosity that had killed the cat, but overconfidence. Nonetheless, it drew them away for some time, before the second one paused and they began speaking to each other in an animated fashion, gesturing emphatically as they argued. Then, they began looking about.

As the two figures approached his illusion he knew it was time to get ready to make a run for it. He made sure he had himself cloaked and ran the scream's way. His illusion did not need to perfect, it needed to work... Although much to his dissatisfaction. The little Mouse's heart broke as his illusion began to look worse and worse as he moved away from it. He could cry.

While he was able to gain on the first set of guards, who appeared to be in no particular hurry, the set he'd fooled momentarily earlier made their way toward the unknown commotion at a full sprint, gaining slightly on him. There was a second scream, and a harsh exchange of words between two voices. The uniformed men closer to it began shouting as well. Curse the language barrier! What could he do?

Is this just a fight or an argument? Why was he so driven to see it it was anything serious. Had his heart softened due to all the others around him? preposterous! Why would he ever care for others? Could it perhaps be a way to prove he would be someone important if he helped someone in need out? Keep your mind on going as fast as possible, Fiske. See what caused the scream first, then start thinking about potential outcomes. his eyes focused on the two uniformed men closer to the spot than him as he trailed them.

The sad Mouse threw any further illusion aside and put everything that he had into running, enhancing his eyesight and hearing as he went. He blew past the closer pair of guards and outdistanced the ones who'd been closing on him before. Around the corner were a handful of sirrahi workers and a cazenax woman. One, in particular, seemed to be arguing with her. He seemed frantic. She seemed frantic. The woman screamed again, and it was a shrill, ear-grating noise. She stared the sirrahi square in the eyes and said something else with an aggressive tone to her voice.

What the?.. A confused Fiske landed upon a scene that gave him the chills. Is this woman offended by something they did, working under her or.. He'd rather finish that thought process. With all these screams he could hear his ears ring to the point he turned down the amount of noise his ears picked up. If this is what I think it is... Could I even do anything?... Wouldn't me doing something potentially make it worse?

Maybe you should stop staring at him so aggressively, lady... He approached the woman and touched her, temporarily taking her eyesight away. Maybe that will teach you a lesson no to stare so much.

For a moment, it seemed as if she'd seen him, but then sight was no longer her problem. The screams went from words to shrill and distressed, and it was mere moments before the guards came into view. They did not ask questions. Two of them whipped out wands and, with a flick of their wrists, dropped a pair of sirrahi to the ground, spasming.

A third stalked up to the snake-person she had been most engaged with and made demands of him. He replied adamantly back, but they gestured to the woman. She wailed and pawed at her eyes and the fourth guard set about comforting her. Her face was streaked with tears and she pointed repeatedly to the sirrahi who now found himself under questioning of the third guard while the other two finished binding his accomplices who lay there semi-conscious, foaming at the mouths. They, two, stalked up, brandishing their wands like weapons.

As he spotted the sirrahi spasming on the ground his heart skipped a beat. These aren't great people... He stared at the wands and knew they were the problem. If I could just get rid of them, this might be a bit more even He prepared a blinding light to disorientate and potentially stun them before using his kinetic ability and mostly his high capacity to punch the wands out of the guards' hands.

The flash burned incredibly bright! Blinding and stunning most of the people in the small sideroad.

All three sirrahi were left sightless and stunned. Two of the cazenax as well. The others, however, retaliated immediately, shouting angrily. One shielded the woman with his body, speaking as calmly and comfortably as he could given the circumstances. The other was able to expertly seize upon the area where the attack had come from if not the precise culprit. He drew in energy and released a powerful shockwave.

The Mouse scurried up the wall to avoid the officer's attack. The mouse grew brave and scuttled over to the officer and spit in his eye, blinding him! What a master of the senses this little sad mouse was.

The officers realized this was no ordinary mouse and called in the big demons cats to come and deal with him. Out of the void came The Watching Demon of Special Investigations, a Book, a Paper gremlin, a literal turd, and worst of all the grand Fly demon!

The little sad Mouse was scared, jittering with fear. He had to escape and he tried! Oh how he tried. The Eye chased but the mouse was ever so agile, evading each clumsy grab. Too slow, the mouse taunted only to then slip on the turd. How mortifying.

The poop demon was instantly destroyed by Fiske's mighty attack. It was a one shot kill. However, the demon bit back. The youth stumbled and fell. A smear covered one side of his pants and, when his hands shot out instinctively to catch himself, some got on there as well. Some got under his fingernails. If there was no serious physical harm, there was ample psychological harm and hygienic harm. He was now very easy to track. The page gremlin was immediately on his tail.

But the Gremlin was nothing even with the moment of failure. The Mouse had ran his whole life! But attracted to the mouses odor, the Grand Fly tenaciously followed.

Meanwhile, the blinded people continued to shout and wail. The sirrahi shouted their innocence.
Others began to take notice. Fiske could hear distant calls. So much for being quick, smooth, and incisive. This was fast becoming a spectacle.

The Grand demon fly was menacingly close to the Mouse's form before losing his... rather manure-esque smell. He could run from this, he could just run and not look back yet in his chest stung every time the thought of making off.

What should the little mouse do! He was scared and he only ever seemed to make things worse. His little heart hurt and but then he could sense it. A friend. She would help because he was her ally! The little sad mouse's heart thumped and thumped as the now courageous Fiske made his show!

The buffoon of guards fumbled about like caricatures, one punched another from behind and a third slammed into the remaining two with bone-breaking forced. Then, on top of it, an absurd amount of heat was drawn from the entire heap by the one and only Fiske! However they were not dealing with just guards, the Watching Demon went for his ally Marceline.

The demons were strong but the guards weak. The world turned for Fiske as they made him feel woozy And Marci was slammed into a wall. When she struck back she delivered one guard to Eshiran. She begged for Oraff's forgiveness.

The fight continued even with the pleas to Oraff. Fiske the mighty cast his illusions to deceive the demons and did so expertly!

The two images of the boy that remained burst out in laughter "Hahaha, Are you blind? Do you need a little check up?" Their hands made a motion as if they were crying before they stuck out their tongues. "Duuuuummkopf!"

The Watching Demon calls down a terrifying pillar of nuclear fire.

Fiske is vaporized.

But it's not the real Fiske. The other Fiske let a single tear drop. "Your honourable service shall be remembered, me."

Despite the grim circumstances, Marci lets out a snort.

Marceline takes a moment, amid the mockery, to heal herself, but she catches up to Fiske as well. She lays a hand on his shoulder. "I've got you, now that I know which is the real you." She focuses and he finds himself healed too.

Fiske smiled as he tried his hardest to keep up the cool act after the nuclear attack. Putting a hand on his mouth, faking a gasp. "Oh dear, you found me!" Fiske winked as he was healed. "Thank you kindly, Marshie." He snorted.

Fiske the Awesome's illusions kept distracting the demons until with the power him and Marci were able to combine their effort and friendship onto the Watching Demon! A lance of pure light and a well of gravity was too much and they vanquished the most terrifying demon.

The fight continued like this. Fiske gathering their attention with his showmanship while expertly never being where they attacked and Marceline supporting him with support. Things should've ended like this for the now brave Mouse. But then the Book opened.

A colossal explosions rolled through the city, building were destroyed and with Reshta's help, Fiske and Marci were okay. People stumbled and the sirrahi fought with the guards. Things have went from bad to worse. Whatever could they do?

The explosion could be heard throughout the city and it attracted more guards. But also more allies. Desmond and Tku broke on to the scene to save their own. Tku unleashed holy wrath against the Book Demon and Desmond lined up a magical shot. Tku's holy wrath only distracted the fowl beast and Desmond's depleted uranium rounds landed on the book. Not enough to kill it however.

The tongue snapped and lashed about as it felt the pain of its wounds. The dynamic duo Fiske and Marci would not miss the chance to strike! Fiske skewered the massive book with Blizzard of Knives and then Marci leapt in for the finish, slicing the demon in two with a lightning blade.
It burst into ribbons, its knowledge flying everywhere. It was slayed.

The fight was nearing its end but there was still a gremlin and a fly, Easy right?

No, the Gremlin and Fly raged about. The gremlin ripped and teared at the heroes and the Fly stabbed Tku in the back, poisoning him throughout his body. But the fly seemed to be tired and angry, just staying in the same place and angrily glared at the team. The Gremlin was dodged by Fiske once again, it even went after his eyes this time. Scary stuff.

The Fly had more hate than you could imagine. And all at Tku for some reason. It buzzed and Tku's bowel's loosened. Oh no! He held it and then suddenly blood busted from his stomach. Oh god what let this exist. A truly evil entity.

Lightning, Fire, and Bullets only irritated the Fly. What was this monster? Tku on his final moments removed it from reality. He hated it more than anything and it was finally gone. But dozen of guards came. They needed to run and the sirrahi freed.

"Free them Desmond, just point and think!" Tku shouts out how to use the wand

Desmond snatches the wand from the ground with a quick slide while saying, "Yoink! Mine! Oh yeah okay"

Desmond points the wand at them and releases them from their command bond.

The sirrahi, freed from their catatonic state, roll over gratefully, but then there is a bigger issue: eight guards approach, and they are heavily armed. There is a good distance between them and the group. Do they try to explain the situation, turn themselves in for their crime, fight, or flee?
For a moment, Marceline seemed frozen. Guilt ate at her, but so did an intense desire for self-preservation. The original sirrahi - the one who the cazenax woman had been screaming at - shook his head. "She was trying to accuse me of..." He trailed off for a moment. "A crime." His face hardened. "The sentence would've been death. I didn't do it."

"I think we have to go now." Fiske rushed over, placing his hand on her shoulder this time on the guilt-ridden Marceline.

Tku throws his stuff at Marci, including his wand, "Go, you helped your friends child. I'll stay here and take the heat. Go!"

Desmond noticed the many guards, he knew that many were just coming to help, there was only one that needed to die. Desmond began to hide away and load another bullet, this one was a simple stone. A shot normally so hard to trace to any one person, as in the end it was just a stone.

Yet when Desmond heard the Sirrahi speak, he knew there was something else, something the required a more steadier touch.

He deprimed his gun and realized that this might be something they can fight.

Desmond began to put away his weapons, this might be something they could fight.

They just might have something they can do.

"I think this one might need us to take this lump". Desmond let out a sigh as he realized what is going to be happening next.

Desmond threw Marci and Fiske his bag filled with his things and his weapons, leaving him his suit and other smaller accessories he can't easily take off, "Go, you two need to leave now, someone needs to take the fall".

He set his hat onto Marci's head as he began to try and push them away.

"You won’t win," Marci called out, shaking her head, but Desmond's mind seemed made up. So did Tku's.

"She's right," the sirrahi agreed, as the police drew nearer. "It’s stacked against us." He shook his head. "You two should go. At least I can go knowing that someone stuck up for me."

Tku heard how they felt nothing could be done and he tried to comfort, "There is change here, Nyax-Acan is coming. He is going to free your people."

Heart heavy with regrets, Marci ran. She had always been a cockroach: the one to survive everything and anything. She had murdered, and for what? There was no two ways about it.
The sirrahi had been the victim here, no doubt. So had the officers, though. They'd only been doing their jobs. Or had, they, really? She didn't have the full story. Only Fiske did.

For Desmond and Tku, the forces of Cazenax law and order drew nearer. They shouted in their own language, and then in broken Avincian once they realized that the suspects were human. "Down ground! Hand on head!" When one of the sirrahi was a bit slow to react, they wound up and kicked him in the ribs… repeatedly. Rapid exchanges in their mother tongue followed, and neither of the remaining students could follow.

Before they were too far and Desmond would be unable to say this to either, he used something he picked up from the many interactions he's had with the tethered within his life.

As he began to lay down onto the ground, he felt the energies of both Fiske and Marceline fade away, but before they fully left him, he pinched the back of their ears. Giving them a simple message, "See. You. Soon.". And one final message, one that neither could fully understand as it didn't follow normal tethered pinch signals. But had the same feeling as a double long pinch or Opportunity/I'm ready.

But seemed different, like the feeling was different, something happier, but more somber. Something that had more weight to it all, maybe it was like this was a great opportunity. A great opportunity that they are in this situation, or that this was a great opportunity to be there. But there was something more. Something much more sad possibly.

Possibly, this was a goodbye.

Tku knew what could follow them getting captured. But he faced it well. Zarina, Ayla, and Marci were strong. They might be his wards for the time being but Tku didn't think they needed. Hopefully Marci won't be too hard on herself. His mind was scattered just as much of them but he had faith and hope to drive him into taking some of the weight they made for themselves.

The boy frantically picked up Desmond's bag and darted in the same direction as Marceline.

Fiske ran. He ran and ran as if his guilt tried to catch up to him. Why did this happen? He only wanted to play the hero for once instead of always being perceived a sniveling coward. All he wanted to be was someone people could look up to and be proud. To be someone, not a nobody any longer. Why did he always make things worse? He not only did he need someone to save his worthless rear, but also someone to catch the blame.

Worthless idiot, weakling, waste of space... You only tend to make things worse. His own thoughts only intensified the further he ran away from the scene, eyes focussed on the girl in front of her. I'm sorry... You did something truly awful just because you wanted to help me..... His throat dry as the desert itself from the overwhelming emotion. If only I'd actually be one of the strong ones... Fiske scoffed at his sorry excuse of a performance. Capacity be damned!... Niallus, Sven... Nazih all would've done better than me. Hells, that wily girl Maura might've been able to get out of that situation better than me. Annoyed by his own thoughts he enhanced his senses further until it became hard to think further than basic thoughts.
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Th3King0fChaos The Weird

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Cold Comfort: A Race Against Time




"Okay. That means we don't have a lot of time. What we doing?" Roslyn continued to let herself breathe.

Penny nodded, agreeing with the earlier assertion that they should split up. "Does anyone else know how to sense an anti-magic device?" she asked urgently.

Roslyn shook her head as she answered, "No, but I'll try to help best I can."

Penny nodded and looked about for others. She was likely the only one, and that would make this much harder.

Marz shook his head, "Nay, I've been in 'em never sensed 'em"

Oksana speaks fluently with her hands, though no one is able to make much sense of it. The gist they can gather is that they should retrieve the devices and rescue the town.

Sven shook his head as well with Esmii saying, “No I can't sense them”.

Roslyn tilted her head as she tried to understand what was said to her, "Oksana, and I'm struggling to understand, want to go after the devices first?"

Penny struggles to interpret much, but she agrees that they should retrieve the devices.

Sven, meanwhile, scowls. "Thoshe marblesh are too dangeroush to be left ash ish. They need to be deshtroyed."

She mimics the marbles with a fist, and the devices with an open hand. When the open hand goes near the marble, it starts shaking around. When the device is removed, it appears to be a lot more stable.

“The marbles need to be destroyed, as fast as possible”

“Yes!” Penny exclaims, the gestures clicking. With nobody else able to sense them, she realizes that she has a lot of work ahead of her. “We should find the devices to allow us to handle the marbles!”

Roslyn nodded her head as she said, "Both are dangerous, I honestly don't trust anyone to weild then. However, someone made those devices so I doubt it's the last we will see of them. Right now, we're a bit helpless without magic. Especially against the Volti".

Oksana warn both Sven and Esmii whilst she agrees, she does an explosion affect and points to all the buildings around them. Perhaps she is indicating that they need to be removed into a more barren location before being destroyed.

“Both need to be destroyed, but magic is needed. I agree with Penny on this, we need to get the devices destroyed before we can take a crack at the marbles”

Roslyn spoke out to try and "So should we split up and find the devices or what? Cause we're wasting time."

Yuliya looked to her comrades, having divided into two teams. Marz was a dear friend, but not someone she could trust with the marbles, or with the future of her nation. She spoke to Khaliun in hushed Vossoriyan, away from prying ears. "These hegelans suffered an injustice, but don't let them get their hands on the marbles. You know what will happen if we lose them. Just try not to kill them. she patted her on the shoulder.

“Without the box, they can't do anything to the marbles anyway.” Khaliun pointed toward the town. “We should move as we plan.”

"You're right. I just need you to be prepared for what's to come." she continued to whisper, but turned to shout in Avincean. "We get boxes, yes? I can sense too! I have one of my own, but smaller." she grinned proudly, thinking of her great victories in the trials.

Khaliun nodded whilst float-dashing with her associate. Pokerfaced. “Don't let these foreigners get their way with the marbles.” she spoke in Vossoriyan.

Penny perked up as she heard Yuliya call out to them, "Two teams then, yes!"

"So should we split up and find the devices or what? Cause we're wasting time." Roslyn gestured lightly to the people around her, "Who's with who? Each group should have someone who can sense a device at the head."

Oksana gestures that she is going after the devices, as they are the biggest threat, and wants to ensure everyone's safety.

"I'll take Esmii, Yvain, and Oksana!" Penny called out.

“Ok Penny” Esmii nodded to Penny as she made her way over.

"Okay, I'll be with Penny" Roslyn said as she made her way towards Penny.

Yuli points to Khaliun and pats Marz on the back. "I want these two!"

Marz nodded to Yuliya

Sven did not much trust Khaliun or Yuliya. He volunteered to join them, despite his worries about Esmii.

The Landsknecht Fritz joined the Penny group, Sugawara the Ronin stuck with Khaliun.

"We need to start moving out, or Volti will beat us to it." Roslyn pulls out her 2 maps she had made, as the first one was the one she made from her time with assisting the group with figuring out the boundaries of the anti-magic field, and compares it to the magic one that shows where a chaos marble within the wreckage. "Look like there might be one there based on when we figure out the field's range either."

Once both groups had spoken and figured out a possible place an Anti-magic device would be, they began their move. They knew Khaliun could sense that there were enemies. However the moment she even tried to reach out to try anything, multiple bursts of energy occurred. Giant bursts of light, sound, heat, and even kinetic energy that made it nearly impossible for her to even continue to sense without feeling overwhelmed. However the moment she was able to refocus herself she was unable to track them but knew they had to be close, and the entire group knew it.

As both groups began to move, Marz began to run forward as he lead his group as they aimed to go to the center fortress on the river. While Penny began to lead hers. They knew they needed to make a move and they needed to find all the boxes, and Penny didn't waste any time, "We need to stick close. Let's cross the river."

Oksana indicated toward the harbour area and the boats in the north west, perhaps investigating across the way from there or around in that area.

She drew upon her magic to start a flying leap.

Esmii agrees with Penny, She starts to draw magic. Assisted with making a bridge or ice.

Yet as this group leaped the river, one of their own had messed up their jump. Penny began to slightly falling behind, just enough for when the moment she attempted to leap she felt her magic fade for just a moment, a moment long enough for her power to fade. A moment long enough for her to notice off in the distance that a group of masked people were watching. And a moment long enough for her heart to skip a beat and her to lose all focus and fall directly into the water.

The moment the others landed on the other bank, they turned to see Penny had fallen. Among the group they attempted to try and go back, but the moment they tried to go back they began to feel their own magic fading and made a choice, they began to run along the bank to continue to follow the group who were heading to the fortress on the water.

Shaking off her wooziness, Penny realizes that she has been left behind...again. However, she felt a tingle in her ear, a strange low humming sound seemed to have been coming from behind her. She could feel an almost tingling on her tongue similar to when blood fills the mouth. It was a feeling she knew well, she had sensed that a magic nullifier was near, but she knew the Volti were watching. So she tried to slip out of the water and skulk her way towards the warehouse she could feel the magic nullifier coming from hopfully without being seen.

Yet as she made her way closer to the warehouse, from all around her, she was slowly surrounded. Much similar to her allies on the other side of the bank. There her group found themselves trapped in an alleyway with on one side a group of Volti waiting and lurking, trying to jump them, and then the water. Yet Roslyn had an idea, she told the others to run forward as she began to set up some strange cannon she had been given by Oksana. Once set up she began to take out a strange glass bottle with a clear liquid as she opened the bottle and set it into a hole on top of the cannon. When the liquid fell into the cannon it began to burn as it produced a thick gas that began to funnel down the alleyway. She then took up the cannon again and began running once more, hearing coughing and wheezing coming from multiple people behind her.

Much like Penny as she had ran into the warehouse, not having magic was an incredible difficulty for her. She wasn't physically unfit, but with so much running, fighting, and then swimming before, it now was catching up with her now not having magic. Yet it became worth it as she noticed the crate with the faint hum of electricity. She couldn't figure out how to open it, so she leaned back and jumped forward and used her crutch to support her as she but her boot through the box and made many of these strange boxes spill out as she knew them to be Magic nullifiers. Penny fell down scrambling through the boxes.

The first one she found... wrong one! She threw herself into the box further as more spilled out.

The second try... not it! It was not in there as she threw multiple boxes out, each of which clattered and smashed. Penny began to dig more and more until she heard foot steps form behind her.

A group of masked men and women gathered, each one held weapons they seemed comfortable with, and each seemed ready and able to use them, but it was a small woman in a lilac mask who stepped forward. "Save the both of us some trouble. Drop the box and there's no need to risk life and limb."

Penny brought herself to her feet as she glanced at a box right next to her crutch.
"Fuck, your japes are awful."
She lightly flicked the switch with her crutch. Then, she drew magic as quickly as she possibly can, before the others were even ready.

It was one word, and she could feel her manas responding.
"GORGE"
They were all drawing, of course, and she knew they would be.
They kept drawing.
They couldn't stop.
First, one of the men began to bruise.

In that same moment Penny created a wall with her kinetic and binding magics, she knew what was to come next.

The Volti began to feel the energy continued to draw, they couldn't stop, they began to try desperately to expel their magic in any way possible, but it was neither easy nor pretty.
Most revert to quick, intuitive attacks.
Arcane lances
Kinetic slams
Explosions

The attacks laid into the wall Penny had created, no matter the battering, it stood firm.
The Volti agents could not keep up with the energy draw.
One by one, they overdrew.
They bruised.
They purpled.
Some had nosebleeds.
Blood began pouring from the eyes of another.
Penelope of Perrence remained impassive.
The girl she had once been would have been horrified at this display.
These were enemies, however, and one did not show enemies mercy - ever.
"Please!" One screamed.
"What is this!?" hollered another as he began to glow.
Steam rose from a scorched body.
"I surrender! I surrender! Please!"
A couple merely screamed.
"I have a family!" cried one more.
"You should've thought about them before coming here," she advised coolly.
Then, they were gone - all of them - except for Coccinella.
The Lilac Volti was ragged and battered, but incandescent with rage.
"Now, you one-legged cunt, it's time to pay for your murders."

Near the center of the city, Yuliya, Marz, Sven, Khaliun, and the mercenary ronin close in on the location of the hidden magic nullifier.
From across the way, the sixteen members of the Dieci Volti Nascosti move to close in on them.
Soldato, on a rooftop across the river, breathes in.
Breathes out.
He lines up Yuliya's head in his sights.
"Time to sleep, princess."

Then, he feels the magic go back out.
He lets out a hiss of frustration.
He reaches into his pack and lights something.
He tosses it and the area flares with intense thermal, chemical, and then - as it starts to blow off layers - kinetic and sonic energies as well: enough to 'flash-blind' the magic senses of the tethered who was almost certainly lining up an attack on him... as well as anybody else trying to sense him.
The other operatives aren't quite so well-prepared, however.

Marz looks to Yuliya and Khaliun with a slight head nod as he began to head off to the walls. Being prepared to fortify them as they could all sense it in that moment, they were followed here.

Off in the distance a far more magically gifted sniper began to make her move. She began to knock multiple of the Volti into the water. One of the unlucky few clambered back to the shore almost immediately. Two more are washed downstream. But the third was the unluckiest as he drowned.

Yuliya ran to the tower door and nearly ripped it off of its hinges in her eagerness to reach the magic nullifier.

Within she founds a large crate being used as a simple table in a storage room.

Yuli headed towards the box. Upon ripping the top open she found it full. Pack full of these fucking things. And only once being turned on had such a powerful effect. It occured to her that she did not have the means to take these somewhere safe, back to her home, the castle. She had not been there since.. She pockets the one that's still on and looks down at the crate, contemplating for a moment whether to destroy them, or send them back to her school dormitory.

Yuliya sighed to herself as she took the box emitting the strange electrical hum and placed it into her satchel. Upon exiting the tower there was a crack of a gunshot and the satchel at her hip exploded. The device within it was annihilated instantly, and Yuliya felt a scalding burn through her armour that makes her grimace and hiss in pain. Magic had returned to play, and the remaining twelve Volti operatives waste no time launching themselves across the water.

Marz took his hammer and began swinging and breaking the space in front of him. Creating multiple ruptures in space that made those who tried to approach apprehensive. Those who tried to get around was faced with Sven and his hulking mass and greater magic. Khaliun and her Mercenary faced of with more as Yuliya jumped back into the tower as she realized they were pushing and would most likely go for the box, she needed it.

Yuli set her hand onto the crate and focused her senses. This was magic far beyond her capability, magic that even Jocasta had struggled to learn and do. Her time in the forked tower had given her insight into the temporal school, into the capabilities it possessed, and how far she could go with it, but this was a time she needed it to work. These boxes could be destroyed, but the volti had more. But if the government had them in droves, they could reverse engineer and work around them. The only people she could trust with this equipment was her family. Her brother would know what to do. With duty in her heart, she focused so intently, honing every bit of the timestream to send these where they needed to be, HOME.

Home, another bullet cracked and let loose, this one was one the seeped malice. The air around the bullet shuttered at the mere idea of completing it's task, doing what it was created to do. As it flew, the bullet created multiple loud cracks in the air. The sound similar to that of multiple bull whips cracking, as this destructive malice aimed right for the head of the armored princes. Yet it was her faithful companion that saved the Princess as the bullet was stopped right before hitting Yuliya's flesh. Part of her helm was burnt and pierced, but the bullet was just there. “MOVE!” yelled Khaliun, for she knew she could not trully stop this round, only hold it back for so long.

Yuli had it. She had the teleport. Then that fucker ruined it. That bullet would have been a death blow without Khaliun's assistance. Her focus dropped instantly and it went awry, and she was forced to leap out of harms way, knowing that would have been a lethal blow had it connected. She had come so close.. so very close. Only violence would suffice now.

"No mercy. Annihilate them. We can't get the boxes out while these worms live." she spoke coldly. There no was no rage in her tone, only resolution and duty.

The Volti had finally reached the group and began their assault. One tried to create toxins in the air to attack and debilitate the group, yet Sven was too fast. This seemed to just be a set up as everyone saw something ominous, a simple leather satchel flying through the air, and then a terrible chemical reaction within.

Sven dived for Esmii, he had no true recourse, they were both to be caught, but he knew he had the power, as he huddled over Esmii, he began to focus energy behind him into multiple small explosions to cancel out the energy, but he never realized it was a run away explosion. One that could not be stopped. He let up for a moment as the explosion, the heat, the shrapnel flew into him and his lover, he thought death had them until he felt the pain stop. Sven and Esmii saw Marz there incandescent with energy as he had just broke the space that the explosion was in and destroyed it. Leaving slight singes but nothing more.

Roslyn saw this incredible force and was filled with worry as she screamed out, "ESMII! SVEN!", before she could continue her teeth grit as she felt a lance of arcane energy cut across her side.

Blows continued to fall upon the students as they found themselves surrounded on all sides. Multiple Volti ran in to take the fighting up close, while others sat back and shot their guns or used magic to assist their allies. The constant onslaught finally let up as the students began to retaliate. Yuliya scorched many with atomic fire, the Mercenaries cut with fluid and unrelenting attacks, and Yvain even sliced the arm off of one, yet she was different, when she screamed, she did not scream in pain, hatred, or even terror, she cried out, "Do you really serve these bloodsuckers!?" she screams. "You fool! Where is your pride!? Where is your dignity!?"

Yvain was at first admiring his new trinket until his curiousity was piqued by the woman. "Bloodsuckers? Why would I even serve anyone but my country's crown?"

She stumbled, clutching her side with her remaining arm, utterly horrified. "You don't even know!?" she coughed. "Who do you think runs this country?"

He swayed his hand. "From what I remember from reading a bit on it. They're people who left Eskand hundreds of years ago." He shrugged, gritting his teeth from the pain in his shoulder. A contorted smile forming from it. "Can't say I blame them from wanting to leave after losing a war that badly... but to call them bloodsuckers is a bit harsh, no?"

She regards him a bit dimly. "Sanguinaires, you noble twat. They're sanguinaires!"

His expression was no longer the one of a smug know-it-all. "Sanguinaires.. You understand that word is not to be used lightly. Would these people really let themselves be ruled by those things?"

On the other side of the city, Penny faced off with her assailents, "You know, don't you?" Volto Lilla hissed, "You know and you willingly protect her."

"Oh, I'm not doing this for Yuliya," Penny replies.

She shakes her head. "I'm doing it because I hate people like you. Because you don't care," she hisses. "You don't learn. You see the world only in black and white and you'll never see me as anything except something to be destroyed." She shrugs bitterly. "So, then I guess it's my job to destroy you first."

Penny called once again upon her manas. "REVOKE," she called.

Her mana colony wrests control of the others' from their nerves, at least somewhat. Their territoriality revoked, the three Volti operatives are left exposed.

A loud explosion ripped through out the city as it threw multiple people from their feet. Sven, Esmii, Yvain, Yuliya, and even Marz was thrown multiple feet into the air, but it was Roslyn who had taken it the worst.

After barely surviving the last attack, Roslyn screams upon feeling another attack slip past her defense. Her eyes widen and her head dizzy. Her heart raced, but her blood cooled as suddenly a man appeared beside her. His hand reached out and touched her. A frozen sensation drifted across her flesh causing it to curl. Her hand snapped up, pushing it away as she stepped back. Her knees buckled, her world going dark, before she collapses in a heap. The last thoughts on her mind was regret she wasn't better. Her vision slowly faded as she was able to see the one armed illusionist take notice of her and then dissappear.

Surprisingly, she materializes next to Khaliun. This one is apparently some sort of illusionist. "Why!?" she demands. "Why are you taking their part!? They spit on people like you and I!" Suddenly, there are three of her, in a triangle formation round Khaliun.

Khaliun turned her dark gaze onto the assailant, hammer at the ready. But then there was another! And then another. Surrounded, the bitch-faced strazi readied herself for the worst.

They all spoke at once. "You know he's not coming to save you," she hissed. "He'll only be there if she's threatened!"

“And yet, he's nowhere to be seen.” a triple attack! The Tethered sought to draw out the first attack. “Только когда Воссория действительно истекает кровью, он приходит на кормежку!”

Then lightning resounded, 3 bolts flew and converged on Khaliun. Leaving a dust cloud from the explosion of energy.

"Vossoriya has bled plenty today, don't you think?" the illusionist counters. "Why not just let us have what we came for? What is your quarrel here?"

“Недостаточно, чтобы насытить его.” sneered the burnt Khaliun. “Моя страна важнее твоего вероучения.”

"Then if you are not with us, you are against us." She shook her head. "It will nto be your country that bleeds, but the evil within it."

The hammer was readied, although the immense pressure from the chaos marble seemed absent. “Now get out of my sight.” Khaliun swung her hammer at the one armed woman. It connected with her body, if it was there. It was an illusion that had tricked her which allowed the Illusionist to fade away as she said, "Not while I have a job to do.".

Khaliun's head turned when she heard the yelling of another, "You may all still walk away and you will not be harmed."

The Volti seemed to have dodged an attack from Yuliya as he spoke in a tone only she could hear, "Your time is coming to an end, princess. Monsters like you have no place in a civilized world."

"Big talk for terrorist." she snarled back, holding a portion of her neck that still had shrapnel from Soldato's assault.

"One man's terrorist is another's freedom fighter. I am satisfied with my choices," he replied. "Are you?"

Then, he had bigger problems to deal with, he saw in the corner of his eye Yvain had steadied the Burning eye and aimed...yet he halted. Something about the mention of sanguinaire did not sit right with him. His breath heavy from the shrapnel and bullet that hit him during the battle. Eyes opened wide. "This woman is a sanguinaire?"

The Volti operative smiled grimly and nodded. "Not only her."

The illusionist appeared beside Yvain, laying her hand on his shoulder. "We may not agree on much, but can't we agree on this?"

Yvain looked conflicted. Penny's friend was inhuman filth? A dirty bloodsucker? He nodded, his eyes shining with a determined glow. "We can agree on the horrid fact that they rule over man is unacceptable."

Then, there was a flash of temporal energy somewhere in the distance, where none but Khaliun could sense it, much the same distance where Coccinella tore into Penny.

Penny's defense was frantic. She drew the energy from it, empowering her movement, but she was flagging at this point. Multiple attacks came falling down onto her as she began to be surrounded by the survivors of her first spell.

As one rushed her, he took up a dagger as he stepped in to stab her, but Penny retaliated with a punch that took him in the jaw and the lower half of the operative's head came apart in an explosion of bone, flesh, and shredded skin. He slumped to the ground, dead.

Soon enough after multiple attacks she warded off, she finally faced down the Volti. "Not so smug now, are you?"
Coccinella hissed. "I was never the smug one! All you had to do was walk away."
Penny tilted her head to the side. "I could say the same for you."
"Remember that you force me into this," said the Volti.
With that, she wobbled.
She wavered.
She stumbled.

Her skin began to split.
There was... something beneath it.
Something hard and glistening.
Her back arched and she let out a scream.
Insectile arms burst from her ribcage.
Blood poured from her ears and eye sockets and even Penny reeled back.
Four great wings burst from her back.
The rest of her skin split and sloughed away.
In the place where once a pretty young woman had stood was now a great insectile beast, a... thresher of some sort.
A flying one.
A long, elastic arm shot for Penny's head, a wicked claw adorning the end of it.
"For too long have these bloodsuckers oppressed my people! For too long have we have to hide and cower in our own land!"

Penny was too slow. The claw sheared right through one of her crutches and obliterated it, arcing up to slam its serrated edge into her bicep.
Penny hurtled backwards and crashed into some crates.
The Thresher stalked forward.

The main group was in nearly as much difficulty. As the fighting continued, many of them had taken injury after injury, Sven and Esmii were overwhelmed with the damages, but Sven heard Roslyn's cries and ran to her. Sven manages to rush out a heal in the heat of battle. It doesn't do much, but it managed to stabilize her. "Hang in there, Roshie one."

Roslyn inhales, blood dribbling from her lips as she smiles. Her form shivers. "I-I'm t-trying, but-t thi-thinking I should've stayed... fuck, at the academy..."

Sven struggled to hear it amid the crazed clash and the act of defending his life, but he can't help but agree. While Esmii kneels over Roslyn and assists while saying, “You hang in there, you hear me!”

"I'm t-trying, but-t..." Roslyn inhaled, her lungs felt like glass as she wheezed, "I'm not much of a fighter. I'm sorry I let you down-" Another thunderous explosion occurred, this time it had even shook the earth underneath them, yet what was worst was what stepped from it. A massive fireball had occurred, one that had consumed an entire building, and what stepped through was a single man holding up both of his hands.

The first hand reached out and projected such violent kinetic energy it was warping the air and became visible. The energy surrounded Yuliya's neck and lifted her into the air.

His other hand aimed directly at Sven as he said, "You are fighting the wrong battle," and a heavy crushing began to occur.

Sven feels his neck wrenched around and the world grows faint. There's a great deal of pain and he feels muscles and ligaments snap, but his vertebrae hold. It isn't so easy to kill such an absolute unit of a lad. He slumps to the ground, close to unconsciousness. "Oraff," he rasps, "Why have you forshaken me?"
The world swirls.
He feels hot and cold.
Numb and hypersensitive.
His mind, on the border of unconsciousness, dives
and it dives deep.
He finds himself on a battlefield.
The walls of a massive castle loom above him, and the banner of the oriflamme.
Before him stands a warrior of oraff, mercilessly striking at him.
He calls instead, not on this greenlander god, but on Mother.
Sven rises, his hulking figure incandescent.
Heat boils off of him in colossal waves.

His neck twists back around.
Steam erupts from his nostrils.
The very ground beneath him begins to melt.
Everyone around him began to move, Esmii picked up Roslyn and moved them as his heat only got more intense. It felt as if Sven was hotter than a blast furnace, hotter than the fires of a dragon, or even under the full wrath of the sun.

In that same moment, he was gone. Sven had cleared 300 feet in less than a second and was covered in the blood of a Volti. Yet that blood boiled away as he again dissappeared, moving faster than a blur and again turning another man into nothing but pieces.

The air was left thick with iron as blood covered Sven's hulking, shirtless form. He threw his arms out to the sides and roared, all of the blood evaporating off him as his heat only grew. The air warped around him as no light glistened off of him, only the stone emitted light which caused more and more heat to be produced. The battlefield began to get crowded with inhospitable areas and Soldato knew he needed to stop this, as he lined up a shot hundreds of yards away, he thought he had gone unseen, that was until he saw Sven dissappear.

Soldato jumped forward and turned putting his hands up to block his face, but Sven already swung and punched a hole right through Soldato's body. Yet It wasn't enough.

Sven's fist connected with the magusjaeger and punched a hole clean through him, emerging from the man's back.
But...
Soldato grabbed him back, staring up into the massive Eskandr's raging eyes with all of his dying fury.
"We burn," he grated
"you burn with us."

From high above came a titanic surge of energy.
the Orbital Annihilation Cannon had arrived.
Veleno had appeared above.
Of course, that's what they had called.
That was what was supposed to have happened.

It did not.
Something of an entirely different nature appeared.
It was Coccinella instead.
She held Penny's unmoving body impaled on one of her claws.
She tossed the limp form aside and it somersaulted lazily through the air on its way towards the ground.
Then the wildblood hurtled towards Sven.
Sven then dropped the mortally wounded Soldato to meet the wildblood in charge.

The groups below scattered to catch their comrades sparing both from their grizzly fates. Yet for Sven when he took on the Wildblood he found himself far out matched. Her strength was extraordinary, her feroscity met his own, and he himself was feeling his energy waning. Sven never realized that the Wildblood had an appendage he did not account for, a spike. It aimed right for Sven's chest, aiming to put him out of commission, but it would not take his life. A crack of thunder resounded, reality cracked and broke around the wildblood as she felt an intense pressure nearly tear her apart as she was sent flying, there stood another man glowing with heat and fire, holding a hammer almost double his own height. She began her charge once more, but was pushed back as the same short man as he held up his hammer and a lance of arcane energy poured out. But it was differnet, when it made impact it bubbled and burned even the hard plates the Wildblood had. She dived off to the side, as each of the groups began to reconvene.

Yvain stood there, paralyzed by the sight of the limp body of his cousin falling. He would've raged, he would've run to catch her but his legs would not budge.

Then as despair began to engulf him he could see Penny showing signs of life. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief.

Yuliya sees Penny fall into Oksana's arms. And there's nothing she can do to save her. She's no binder. There was only a target. Soldato had been dealt with by the rampaging sven, but this literal insect would pay. This was her mark. She would use the magic of the gods to destroy this creature from the inside out, attempting to RUPTURE. Yet the Wildblood warded it off without even a motion, showing the great difference in their control of their manas.

The students looked to Penny as she was being healed by Oksana. Most were worried yet were also prepared for when the others were going to attack but they never did. After a moment longer, Penny pulled in a deep breath and then let out a cough.
Penny rolled onto her side, sniffing.
She looked up to see Yvain.
and Oksana
"Oraphe soit loué," she whispered. "Tu as ma sincère gratitude."
She reached up and kissed Oksana on the cheek in thanks.
But then they were not alone.
Coccinella landed.
The remaining Volti operatives regrouped.
Giallo and his squad of eight arrived.
Penny and Roslyn were very much out of the fight.
The remaining nine found themselves surrounded, and it was at that moment that Sven's knees buckled, his body unused to channeling the sheer power it had a minute or two ago.
They were now, effectively, eight.
Sixteen surrounded them.
Including one of the original wildbloods.
Coccinella spread her multitude of insectile arms.
"For too long, we have run and hid from these monsters!" the thresher-beast proclaimed. "For too long, they have stepped on the common people, fed upon them, and bled this land dry."

Yuliya walks to Khaliun, eyeing the hammer. She knows there's a way out here. A way to eliminate them all. "Мрамор. Отдай его мне, и я покончу с этим."(Give me the marble and I'll end this.)

Khaliun squinted. “You have one. You're going to want to keep this hammer for what's to come.”

Yuli sighs. She didn't want to have to use this one yet.

It was then she saw it, a small flash of energy, she knew it had to be the Volti magusjaeger who was constantly aiming for her. She slowed down time, just a touch. Just enough to take that doll out, open it, and flick that chaos marble at the gunman that simply refused to die, not saying a word.

The marble hurtled towards Soldato, warping time and space along the way.
He tried to control its flight with kinetic magic, but his capacity just wasn't enough to do it.
Realizing that it is an impossible fight, his attention turned to the houses behind him. People are running and screaming, but some won't be fast enough. Before it could get too close, he launched himself at it so that they meet over the water.

Then time stopped.



A large, dark-haired Vossoriyan man appears, clad in richly-ornamented robes.



He reached out and plucks the marble out of the air between two fingers, pausing to examine it.
Soldato, mere feet from him, was not frozen in time.
His eyes widened and he looks up to behold Radmomir, the legendary protector of Vossoriya and one of the ten elders of the Sanguine Council.
He scowled.
"Oh, you're still here."
He took a knife from his pocket and tossed it at the soldier. "You fought well," he admits. "Do it yourself or I do it."
Soldato takes up the knife.
He rolled up his sleeve.
The two of them locked eyes.

"Fuck you!"

He was then at Radomir's throat, slashing.
The Volti's speed was incredible - inhuman.
Radomir took hold of his neck, snapped it, and then fed.
The knife splashed into the water below. Time, meanwhile, had returned to normal.
The sanguinaire elder dropped the body. Floating in the air, he turned and tilted his head.
He regarded Sorriso and Coccinella as he took a pair of knives from his pocket.
His gaze was cold and unblinking. "You have five seconds to get out of my city."
Whatever they missed earlier, the students, the Volti operatives, and all of those nearby see Soldato's body fell. They saw the power of Radomir. They heared his words.

FIN


The body of a man whose original name was long forgotten and would not be remembered by society fell beneath the waves. His consciousness faded.
Yet, there was the hint of a bitter smile on his face hidden behind a mask few would remember.
As the last stirrings of life left him, Soldato knew that he had left Radomir with a special gift, and it would not be forgotten.
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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Present: Ayla Arslan @Ti, Evander Fino Synesti @RezonanceV, Tku Pictor @dragonpiece, Fiske Flachstrauch @jasbraq, and Zarina Al-Nader @YummyYummy, Desmond Catulus @Th3King0fChaos


The meeting had mostly broken up by the time that they returned, Marci downcast and anxious, Fiske much the same. Egosto-Alguo had slipped back into the workhouse where he would spend the rest of the following day, along with Uixel. Stela had hurried back to her home and children, bidding her sister-in-law a quick farewell and some cautionary words. It was only Cazelui, Jascuan, and Evander remaining, Samaxi having drifted off to sleep. The last of the three was nursing a cigar pensively, as had become his habit of late.

“Care to explain why you’re slinking back in with your tails between your legs?” As usual, the Revidian did not mince words. Marci shot him a hooded look. “Things went bad. We should lay low.” She quickly retreated towards the backrooms. Then, for a moment, she cracked. “I…” her gaze dipped to her shoes for a second. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I need to go.” With that, she disappeared.

For all that he often seemed hard, prickly, and unforgiving, Evander was well aware that he had crossed a social boundary earlier with Samaxi and he was loath to do so again. Marceline was young, she was a lady, and she was clearly hurting. He set his sights on fitter prey. “With her, I won’t push,” he began implacably, “but from you, I need to know.”

Old man Jascuan was there, then, among them, sitting on the table, feet resting on a chair, legs crossed. He nodded slowly. “What happened, boy?” he asked. “Where are Desmond and Tku, and just how much danger are we in?”


| T E A R S D O N ' T F A L L , T H E Y C R A S H |



For Marci, it was all peaks and valleys - almost overwhelming, but now she found herself in the deepest of the latter. The youngest of the students rushed into the other room without even looking, threw herself onto the bed, and pulled her knees up to her chest. A force for good. Leave the world a better place than you found it. Those had been her mother’s wishes. They still were, as far as she knew.




| F L A G G I N G |



Elsewhere, it was Tennaxi who was pushing open doors. It was a slow, arduous process, but she’d been given run of the house, for what it was worth. “Zox?” she called, slipping beneath a saloon-style gate. “Uinza? Zox?” (Hello? Zox?) It still felt like a strange dream, or some kind of game, being stuck at this height, scooting along the floor on her hands and rear. She’d been pumped full of chemical magic and the pain was gone, but there was no shaking the surreal nature of it and the deep-set feeling that she was ruined, and permanently. It bubbled beneath the surface, threatening to boil over, but she’d done an admirable job getting on with things.




| G R A C I O U S H O S T S |



If Tennaxi was set on rescuing her friend, there appeared to be nobody able to rescue Ayla Arslan. Though the wily Torragonese had succeeded in stalling Talo and Wesca while her friend Marci had snooped, she was now alone with the pair: a smaller fish in a tank of barracudas, but at least a somewhat… fabulous one. It was Talo who seemed to be most in charge, and him to whom her question was addressed.




| N E T S A Z A I |



The sun rose over An Zenui, the streets of the great city already coming to life. Thin trickles of people scurried about in the predawn: cazenax, sirrahi, and the others that had been brought into being through the efforts of the first. The barest amount of dew collected on its myriad surfaces, much of it carefully channeled into clay pots or metal pans or catchment basins. Great steel plates on arms were swung out into the sun’s rays to warm for the day. By the evening, thousands would be cooking off of them and eating.




| S M O K E |



Meanwhile, perhaps such a fate would’ve seemed a blessing to the two humans and two sirrahi who were being shoved relentlessly from sideroads to streets to grand boulevards. The officers who had arrested Desmond and Tku were smarting for blood, and they were quick to heap abuse on the cop-killers. If their actions technically fell outside of what the law allowed, well… they were the law, after all, and they allowed it. Bindings were clipped on too tight, weapons roughly confiscated, and any excuse used to rain down kicks and punches.




| N Y A X - A C A N |



They were bound by the wrists, bags tied over their heads tightly enough to nearly suffocate the pair. All around them, the Hall of Justice was packed with bodies - they could sense hundreds on the ground floor, hundreds more packing the balconies, and many more gathered outside, trying to get in. Shouts and jeers rained down upon them and, more than once, the four found themselves pelted with garbage until the perpetrators were roughly ushered out. Angry as the people here were, the dignity of the court could not be called into question.

Desmond and Tku found themselves ‘helped into’ and then bound to their seats as official-sounding voices rose, augmented by magic. By the growing silence around them, one could assume that they were demanding order and silence. Finally, they had it, and the scampering footsteps of Naxos could be heard rushing up beside them. “Don’t worry, guys. We’ve got a good case here,” he whispered. “Don’t be alarmed. They’re gonna announce stuff and remove the bags.”

“The accused will now rise!” called one of the official-sounding voices. “The aggrieved will now rise!” it concluded, as they were forced to their feet.

It was quiet enough that they could hear footsteps somewhere out in front of themselves. There was a loud but soft ‘thump’ and a collective intake of breath and an outbreak of hushed, excited murmurs. Then, they stopped in reverent silence.

The bags were ripped away roughly enough that Desmond’s neck was nearly wrenched, but he held steady. All around were walls of cazenax. At the other table was the aggrieved woman, who made a show of recoiling from the two sirrahi. It seemed that a plea hearing had turned into an entire trial within the span of no more than a few hours.

That was not what drew the attention of Desmond and Tku, however. “Presiding, his eminence, the ever-wise and merciful Nyax-Acan.”




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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Th3King0fChaos
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Th3King0fChaos The Weird

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Once Desmond was cuffed and brought to his feet, he knew what was coming. The law never liked those who were 'one of them' to be attacked. Men who were the 'law' had died, and those who were 'one of them' wanted blood. Desmond knew, he could feel it in every blow that landed on him. For Desmond, punishment was not something he was adverse to, with his armor softened every blow, and his body already hardened, these were nothing. He couldn't say anything for those with him, all Desmond could do was hope they'd shut up, but that wasn't something that would stop them from throwing more blows, it would just stop them from escalating the punishment.

In the city, Desmond felt the heat bare down on his head, the feeling of blows across his body, and chanting. 'Oh, what a time to remember'. Desmond's mind wandered, he had thought this would be the right thing, but was it truly? Why was he here? He couldn't tell anyone, he couldn't even think of why himself. But he had an old memory, the chanting and the clattering of chains. He was a small boy, no older than 8 as he was lifting a stone and setting it down to make a wall. Connected to other children and younger men and women, they were on barren lands with piles of stone being made by other young men and women. Everyone looked tired, dirty, unwell, and without food or water. But they had one thing, a strange hum, one reminiscent to the chanting he was hearing around him.

Desmond quietly hummed to himself, lost in that memory, it was something nice, strangly, maybe it was the last thing he remembered of his mother or father. Or maybe it was just a simple time, one where he felt…normal. The humming reminded him of a time…a time long past. Before memories began and faded, covered in a smoke long forgotten, it was calming in it's own way. Calming to a child, but he had forgotten the words of the song, only the hums remained, yet it was enough for him. It felt like a memory, or like a dream, maybe it was trying to remind him of something.

Yet before he could ever remember, he felt a strike to the back of his head, and it returned Desmond to his present moment. The chanting, the unbearable heat, his current position. An officer who was able to speak Avincian came and let out a laugh and began to chant, "You are fuck". The other officers began to crow the same, Desmond chuckled to himself, he knew they had to be mimicking someone, and there is a possibility of who it was. But it did not matter, they pushed them further and continued to taunt, even with the taunting, it meant nothing, until they brought up others. Desmond's teeth gritted as he nearly snapped out at them, but he let it go, they could try, but Desmond knew they could both handle themselves.

They were finally pushed into a large hall, with a man in bold colored clothing, an imposing height among Cazenax, and a strong aura, Desmond knew this man must have been a 'big wig'. And as he spoke, his words told Desmond everything with his words, Desmond smiled as he spoke, "Good, I wouldn't want you". Another strike landed upon Desmond as he was pushed off into a long corridor to somewhere unknown.

Desmond and Tku were the first to be thrown unceremoniously into a small cell, next came the Sirrahi who nearly filled the cell on their own. Desmond began to look around the cell, nothing, not a single inkling of energy within. Only thick stone walls, and a bucket, that has a bit of a smell. Desmond shook his head as he began to hear one of the Sirrahi wail and cry out. It was the other more stoic one to introduce themselves, and Desmond reciprocated, "Well, Gisté-Luno, wish we could have met in better conditions, but, either way, I'm Desmond. Desmond Catulus".

The wailing of the other Sirrahi continued, between the two, he could see similarities of people he knew. The younger much more like some of the kids he knew, many of the Rat Bastards were quite similar in that way. Allowing something to happen, for fear of being caught in further trouble. The older of the two, Gisté-Luno, seemed to be ready, standing for what he believed, even in the face of danger. Desmond chuckled to himself, seeing his own restraints and thinking, did he really stand for what he believed in.

Desmond talked lightly among the cell, to Tku asking for if he was alright. To Gisté-Luno to tell him a bit more on Nyax-Acan, maybe even knowledge upon the An Zenui. Just something to pass the time, as silence is often more deafening than the roars of your own demise. Yet no matter the talks, Desmond kept tabs on the energies around him, he want to know, needed to know, what is happening around him. A nervous tick that's never left him, he could feel the countless bodies shifting and moving into a larger chamber, sounds continued to build as often it is an ample energy source when larger groups began to form. The heat within stayed neutral most likely the work of magics of those within. Soon the energy grew even more, what would have been an ample energy source became a near blinding sensation. Soon.

What was unexpected was when someone came to their cell, a smaller demon who Desmond and Tku had met before, the Imp, Naxos. When Naxos broke the ice Desmond chuckled and said, "Yeah, it doesn't look that good ya know".

Desmond then began to laugh, "Well ain't that some good luck that you're a lawyer, we needed one of those". Desmond let Naxos continue to talk, listening in and then eventually he gave a light nod before Naxos left.



Gorgeous Gowns and Heavy Gavels



A minute after Naxos left 6 guards threw open the cell door and began to charge in, grabbing onto each of them and pulled them out. Throwing them to the ground as they began to have bags thrown onto their heads and ropes tightened upon the necks, nearly enough to bruise alone. Desmond felt himself then lifted by his wrist bindings and kicked in his side and was yelled at, "UP".

They were brought into the large hall, it filled with bodies, and many more outside and further he could feel. This was going to be something, something that would change everything in this city. Desmond could feel it in his bones, it could have also been the multiple pieces of garbage, bones, and even rocks that were thrown onto them. Desmond did not let himself flinch.

Soon he was forced into his seat, having his hand bindings undone before they were then bound to his chair. Naxos quickly spoke to them, reassuring them they had a good case, which made Desmond slightly more assured. Talking began to happen, however most of the talking seemed to hush itself. The excitement seemed even more growing and then finally their bags were removed. When the bags were ripped off, Desmond felt the bag get grabbed and ripped, the rope wasn't untightened, and it felt as if they tried to rip his head off. Yet Desmond kept his head steady, he kept himself solid. Especially in front of 'his eminence', Nyax Acan.

Desmond saw the quick and decisive work of Nyax-Acan, from simply looking upon the woman, he deduced the entire situation. The Sirrahi were proven innocent in a moment, the woman escorted out, and multiple others seemed to almost run rampant with murmurs and sent out as well. Leaving the place deathly quiet for what came next.

Police died, and someone had to pay for the crime, Nyax-Acan made it very clear and then had his gaze fall upon Desmond, and asked him, who really did it, and why did Desmond take the fall. All that happened was a smile was left on Desmond's face, as he looked to Nyax-Acan, and he opened his mouth…
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by jasbraq
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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A Revelation?




Yvain did not care too much about this fight. His lust for battle has been quenched for a while and now with his magic back did not enjoy beating on the weak. He was hit by shrapnel yet he tried to not be too bothered by the pain. A woman among the Volti stood against him. Does she intend to kill me? I do not wish to kill a lady that much weaker than me. He began to search amongst his belongings whilst holding people back with his kinetic magic. This eye thing might be able to hold her off or at least knock her out, right? Let’s test it out. He grabbed the eye device and aimed it just like the vendor told him.

It shot something so fast that it was as if he lit a small fire. It sliced the woman’s arm clean off. Huh, not what I was expecting… but interesting. When the Volti woman screamed, she did not scream in pain, hatred, or even terror, she cried out, "Do you really serve these bloodsuckers!?" she screams. "You fool! Where is your pride!? Where is your dignity!?"

His curiosity was piqued by the woman’s words. He raised his eyebrow out of confusion from what she just uttered. "Bloodsuckers? Why would I even serve anyone but my country's crown?"

She stumbled, clutching her side with her remaining arm, utterly horrified. "You don't even know!?" she coughed. "Who do you think runs this country?"

He swayed his hand. "From what I remember from reading a bit on it. They're people who left Eskand hundreds of years ago." He shrugged, gritting his teeth from the pain in his shoulder. A contorted smile formed from it. "Can't say I blame them from wanting to leave after losing a war that badly... but to call them bloodsuckers is a bit harsh, no?"

She regards him a bit dimly. "Sanguinaires, you noble twat. They're sanguinaires!" His expression was no longer the one of a smug know-it-all. "Sanguinaires.. You understand that word is not to be used lightly. Would these people really let themselves be ruled by those things?" Why was he not told this at the school? Did they know about this? Something this horrible should not be hidden from the wide world.

"Your time is coming to an end, princess. Monsters like you have no place in a civilized world." "Big talk for terrorist." she snarled back, holding a portion of her neck that still had shrapnel from Soldato's assault. "One man's terrorist is another's freedom fighter. I am satisfied with my choices," he replied. "Are you?"

Then, he had bigger problems to deal with, he saw in the corner of his eye Yvain had steadied the Burning eye and aimed...yet he halted. Something about the mention of sanguinaire did not sit right with him. His breath heavy from the shrapnel and bullet that hit him during the battle. Eyes opened wide. "This woman is a sanguinaire?"

The Volti operative smiled grimly and nodded. "Not only her."

The illusionist appeared beside Yvain, laying her hand on his shoulder. "We may not agree on much, but can't we agree on this?"

Yvain looked conflicted. Penny's friend was inhuman filth? A dirty bloodsucker? He nodded, his eyes shining with a determined glow. "We can agree on the horrid fact that their rule over man is something that is utterly unacceptable." His Burning Eye device turned towards their weakened comrade.

Then another inhuman thing appeared with what looked like to be Penny?... Her body limp, impaled. The body was dropped by the beast and Yvain’s eyes wished they did not witness said event. He ran as fast as he could towards the falling body, but he couldn't make it yet Oksana was closer and caught his cousin effortlessly. Helooked to Penny as she was being healed by Oksana. Tears began to flow down his face as he prayed to Oraphe-Sept. Penny pulled in a deep breath and then let out a cough.Penny rolled onto her side, sniffing.
She looked up to see Yvain and Oksana
"Oraphe soit loué," she whispered. "Tu as ma sincère gratitude." She reached up and kissed Oksana on the cheek in thanks. A warm smile covered his tears-covered face. ”Oraphe a écouté.”

But then they were not alone.
Coccinella landed.
The remaining Volti operatives regrouped.
Giallo and his squad of eight arrived.
Sixteen surrounded them.
Including one of the original wildbloods.
Coccinella spread her multitude of insectile arms.
"For too long, we have run and hid from these monsters!" the thresher-beast proclaimed. "For too long, they have stepped on the common people, fed upon them, and bled this land dry."

The new presence dropped the body, one of the main Volti. Floating in the air, he turned and tilted his head.He regarded Sorriso and Coccinella as he took a pair of knives from his pocket. His gaze was cold and unblinking It sent a shiver down Yvain’s spine. "You have five seconds to get out of my city." Whatever they missed earlier, the students, the Volti operatives, and all of those nearby see Soldato's body fell. He saw the power of Radomir. He heared his words. This person was something else. He was not a prodigy like him. He felt like something beyond even the greatness of himself. Who the hells is this? Perhaps the emperor…. Is King Rouis truly that weak compared to other rulers?
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by dragonpiece
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dragonpiece

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Fleeting Bravery



Tku didn't think twice on sending Marci away. She was so young and so distraught by her actions. He made his word to keep them safe to Harracorra and now he felt for the young girl as well. It wasn't an intense feeling, just a personal responsibility for someone so young in such an unfamiliar place. How had she been separated from the others? Tku wondered as he was beaten by the guards and called a killer.

He had been beaten many times, it comes with traveling and figuring out their customs with experience, but these hurts. The strikes filled Tku with bitterness, he imagined that rude child was responsible for this. He felt it to be true, Why Fiske? Why did you have to leave so angry and cause this.

As they were moved through the city that bravery to jump into battle for others faltered. He had never been a brave man, not like the ones of great renown at least. He wondered if they also felt dread in their hearts when they realized this could be their end. The cities didn't want an explanation, they wanted blood. The little sights Tku saw of the people were overcast by the beautiful sights. It was a moment of acceptance that he drastically misread how things would go, how much time they would have to be rescued.

So why look at angry faces when you could look at beauty? As most definitely to their displeasure Tku took in their city for the beauty of it and looked past the people here.

The buildings were exquisite, the bright clothing was refreshing if not a bit much. The dyes in their hair were bold and brilliant. They created so much and Tku wanted to breathe it all in before he passed. Even as they had their heads covered, he could feel how the court was designed very differently from others. It was meant to be a showroom. A place of high praise and serious judgement.

But even with his coping Tku failed at holding the dread away. Even with their public defender, Naxos, his nerves frayed as they were placed in front of honorable Judge Nyax-Acan… Benedetto?!? Tku was so shocked that he just stared. Was the Angry Child still a child or had he grown? Wait did he actually grow? And Nyax-Acan answered it quickly by dispersing the first case with the sirrahi in a rather crude way. But now his gaze was at them, and it was time to decide. Well for Desmond to decide.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by jasbraq
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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Childish Reflections




Fiske’s feelings of guilt and anxiousness built up. Evander’s words were never nice but to see Marci in such a state made him mad, unreasonably so. He was never one to care for others, why is it different now? “With her, I won’t push,” he began implacably, “but from you, I need to know.” He clenched his fists, looked down and kept quiet. The desire to punch his noble face was almost near-impossible to resist. “What happened, boy?” he asked. “Where are Desmond and Tku, and just how much danger are we in?” It felt as if a rock was stuck in his throat.

His eyes avoided any that tried to make contact with them. How could he ever tell them the truth? If Benedetto was here he’d probably laugh at me… Call me a coward and if I told him the truth he probably wouldn't even believe me. He'd probably just go like. ”You don’t have the backbone for that. You’d just hide in the corner.” or something like that! Even thinking about that idiot hurts my head. Then his expression turned red from anger.. Something about Evander’s attitude pissed him off. It might just be in a Revidian's blood to be obnoxious. ”Why would I have to explain myself to someone who offers no value to anyone but themselves!” He stomped his feet out of frustration. ”You, You.. You damned noble simpleton! You dare to look at me as someone who’s ashamed of their actions yet what about you? All you’ve done is made things worse and gotten some nice puffs from the local herbs of this city!” He knew that it was unfair at this point to point the finger at him as he himself screwed up more than he’d like to admit. ”You disrespected the king because your damned, fragile noble heart couldn’t allow you to simply bow to someone who might be lower than yourself!” He hyperventilated, his ears ringing from his own voice echoing back.

His eyes turned watery as he began to calm himself. He looked at Jascuan and Cazelui, shaking his head. ”They’re gone.” He walked towards the room Marci yet before trying to enter he turned towards Jascuan once more with a pained expression.. ”Not dead, I think. Just… do not count on them being able to help you. Fiske sighed. ”I don’t know. We might be in big trouble or barely any. All I know is that I made sure I wasn’t followed.” His sight returned to the other room. Fiske stood there with a heavy heart. Would it really be okay for me to enter?

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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by A Lowly Wretch
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A Lowly Wretch The Listless Loiterer

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Trypano had been searching the grounds where each battle had taken place. Powerful forces had died this day and even missed scraps from those who had taken their bodies could hold great potential. She found some blood from one of the Ogauracs that fell, a solemn reminder that people of such rare breeds should not be made pawns for one's own conflicts. It was bottled in one of her enchanted vials.

She found a scale, one lone scale sitting in the site where the battle between Wu Long and the Emperors went down. It wasn't a scale from the other dragons. This was... Different. It held potential to become something more. She was not going to place this item somewhere out of her attention. Instead, she slipped it into her cleavage. Not something she commonly did not really out of modesty but largely because not much was so small as to be concealable there yet so valuable as to require concealment. She might of tucked it below the skin itself in an isolated oil pocket but such body horror might end up catching her fellow student's eyes, something she needed less of, not more.

Lastly she came upon the plum. A curious fruit. Given her history with fruit it was not something to quickly overlook. As she reached for it however her binding picked up something else in the area, something near. It was something... Or someone.

"Well spotted," a familiar voice quietly remarked in both of Trypano's ears, such that it sounded like it was inside her head. "Both me and the fruit, heh. These are to die for, and there's more of them on the island once those two are done... settling their differences. Here, try it," Xiuyang said as she invisibly lifted up the plum and offered it to Trypano.

"I've said some things in anger that I regret. Today was one of those days. For what it's worth, I'm not exactly thrilled with some of our allies at the moment, either." Trypano could sense Xiuyang looking around, spotting something interesting and picking it up. It was... a spoon, quite some distance from where the dinner had taken place, as though a storm had carried it away. It seemed to be imbued with magic of some kind and quickly disappeared up Xiuyang's sleeve. "I'm disappointed in myself, as well. I killed a man today. ...My first kill, and all I can do is keep going about my business, like an ant dutifully carrying its spoils back to the nest." It was the second time that day she'd compared herself to an ant. The first had been while speaking to the Ice King. He had no words of wisdom for her. She supposed that Trypano probably wouldn't, either.

"After today, I'm just not sure what else I can do, or if there is anything I can do. Maybe that's why I want to help you. You seem to have grand plans to contribute some meaningful things to the world. All I can do is move money around."

She heard her voice projected into her ears. It was inherently different from the methods others had used to speak into her mind prior. Thus, it had to be illusion magic. Alas, it's owner was no danger to her, not inherently at least.

She accepted the plum from her hand, holding it in her own as she looked down at the fruit whilst she heard her out. As she listened to her words Trypano her red finger nail traced along the surface with the surgical accuracy of a scalpel, her binding slowly opening it's face until the insides of the fruit were revealed. From it she removed the pit, holding the seed bearing heart of the fruit in one hand whilst examining the fruit's flesh in the other.

"Words are tricky things. You can say something and have twenty different come to twenty different conclusions off those same words." She answered back before lifting her nail up to her lips, tasting the flavor of the fruit she dissected. "Doctors no less than soldiers must approach the unavoidable truth: Their trade and death run hand in hand."

Her head turning she slowly faced Xiuyang, her eyes staring off even if she was looking straight towards her. "I do have plans, yes. I've seen much and gleamed insight into many truths, such as the knowers. Those are the things which produced those titanic appendages from the sky." The turned, looking back at the crushed land where the tentacles fell before turning to look back at the ruins of the palace where the others squabbled over the emperors gifts like bugs upon a rotting carcass.

"I do share some measure of distrust towards some of the others. As any good merchant knows a deal is only worth as much as the dealer's word." She looked almost pensive, given how reserved she oft was. Her shoulders seemed to sag and she sighed softly.

"I do thank you for the offer of aid. I may be... Moving soon."

Xiuyang let out a hollow snicker, watching as Trypano dissected her food. Really, she was foolish to expect any other reaction. "If you can think of twenty different interpretations of 'screw you,' then I may just bow to your wisdom and abdicate the title of wordsmith." The lighthearted jape improved her mood just slightly before the topic of death was inevitably brought to the fore again. "Yes, I suppose it was inevitable, just as my first failure to save a life, I must someday take one in the interest of preserving others. It still feels cynical, that human lives should be represented by beads on an abacus, or kept in a ledger."

Xiuyang's head tilted back up towards the sky, as if expecting to find another giant eye gazing down at them. "The Knowers, huh," she remarked flatly. She did get a rather judgmental vibe from the eye. Certainly, if she were looking down at the scene back at the Twin Emperors' table... well, from a god's perspective, she supposed that was nothing interesting. Like bugs to a carcass, indeed.

"Rumor has it your word is worth a great deal," she commented in reply. "Normally, I don't trust anyone—or you could say I trust everyone to act in their own self-interest. Making deals is about ensuring interests align. As for me, I'm not interested in tacking my name onto your life's work, or extracting royalties. My interest in your work is more personal."

Xiuyang raised a brow, not at the notion of Trypano expressing gratitude, but at what she said. "Moving? You mean your workshop..?" she speculated.

"Perhaps in the wrong company some may purposefully misinterpret such words as invitation." A faint smirk pulled at her lips, only to return to solemnity as the conversation continued. "I've seen it often enough during my training. Upon discovering you cannot save everyone nurses will either quit out of stress or elsewise grow callous as a defense mechanism. You cannot empathize with those you know may very well die. There are some pains you cannot alleviate no matter how much they beg you to. There are even times where in triage situations where one must make the active choice to stabilize someone's wounds while knowing that by not treating someone else their death is certain." A slow cold breeze crept over them like a frigid ephemeral slug. Only the briefest of pauses but longer yet in the mind's eye.

"It is difficult to shield one's heart to the world's horrors and not lose what little empathy that still affords you to care for the lives of others. It is a line thinner than any wire yet all the more important that the costs of individual lives are not trivialized, especially if one believes they are acting for the greater good." As she spoke memories came to mind of fellow students of medicine, both seniors and juniors working aboard the naval vessel she served on. She recalled how in their off time the nurses would talk of their patients, using such polite nicknames such as Screamers and Writhers, regarding their fellow humans as little more than chores and inconveniences in their way, as less than human. For all the image the public may have of medical professionals as soft, caring humanists the truth is that the more suffering one witnesses the harder it becomes to not grow numb to it all.

_
"Indeed, one would be a fool to believe someone would help an acquaintance in their pursuits without somehow furthering their own agenda. Even a kind samaritan gets something from aiding those in need, such as a sense of validation." She paused to let Xiuyang speculate on her statement on moving.

"Yes. My current lab is located deep below, somewhere well secluded and difficult to reach without a guide. Recent events have revealed that it's privacy might soon be in jeopardy, if not from other's I've dealt with in the past then from the scope of what I'm trying to create." She took a moment, turning and examining the pit in her hand like a crow with a glinting stone. "Depending on what certain studies may reveal I might need a legally owned location to act as a front, both so I can continue my work without harassment and so that I may stick my food in the door to the public stage when that time inevitably arrives." With that being said she turned her focus back over to the book that was their prior item of discussion.

"I do not believe in hording knowledge for it does the spellcasting community a disservice. While I must be cautious as to what knowledge I share due to the public's perception as well as to not draw attention from less philanthropic entities I am perfectly happy to share my discoveries. If you want when time comes you can consult with me regarding questions that will be asked and view the answers when the book is finally used." She offered. It was not a light offer given what she might stand to learn from this item but Xiuyang hadn't contested her on it like so many other students were doing with each other. An act in good faith deserved at least that much in turn.

"The best I can manage is to pretend not to care," she confessed, turning her head to watch as Abdel's struggle with Niallus reached a swift conclusion. With Jocasta and Ingrid both waiting to leap in if it turned sideways, she appeared to be mostly unconcerned—but her heart rate was still high as she looked on. "Never did learn poker face. Never had to," she japed, invisibly gesturing to the mask she wore at all times, still for unknown reasons.

"You're right. True generosity is an expression of power, that comes with its own satisfaction. If a fully selfless act is even possible, it's a feat reserved for gods. That's what I think, anyway. We humans can only get so close—but the attempt is still honorable, I think. There's value in struggling against our selfish nature," she said confidently.

She listened carefully as Trypano described her needs. "My father may be acquiring land in Revidia soon. He's certainly aiming for it—but if you have the means, there is certainly no shortage of secluded locations in the deserts of Torragon. My mother's family is quite wealthy. They may have some unused land that I could commandeer, if you only have the means to travel that distance quickly."

She paused, letting Trypano think on it for just a moment. "Have you heard of a mana type that lets their host transform into other people? It's not just a rumor. It's quite sought after by certain groups, but exceedingly rare and kept secret by those fortunate enough to have it. ...I'd like to learn how to do this using only blood magic, if such a thing is even possible. Human body modification through fleshcraft, to put it simply. As for what I intend to do with such a skill, it's much less sinister than what you're probably imagining," she said truthfully.

"There is value in struggling indeed. Even with all the violence and greed rampant in this era we've come so far from the days of old, whence knowledge was scarce and superstitions were all that people knew of the world." With that she turned her focus more towards the topic of more immediate concerns.

"That is funny, It's much less sinister than what you're probably imagining is something I often have to preface the descriptions of my work with myself." She spoke in some humor, though it wasn't far from fact.

"To answer your question however, yes. I've read about the Face Mimic manatype, though not much is truly known of it due to both it's uncommon nature and the frequency of which it's hosts conceal their true identities, making it hard to follow the histories of it's recorded hosts." She reached up and cradled her chin in thoughtful contemplation, considering Xiuyang's ambition with focused interest. "In truth I've sublimated my own blood type before for temporary access to the effects of other blood types before. It's a difficult process, I'm still working on overcoming the Law of Rejection in my effort to make the body accept foreign aid without completely shutting down it's natural defenses. As we've seen with sanguinaires however it's not impossible for manas to welcome foreign manas into the body. The sooner I discover the truth of manas the sooner I will be able to denature them, alter them on a fundamental basis. Once that is accomplished anything will be possible." She then removed her hand from her chin and looked back in Xiuyang's direction.
"For the moment I've set my focus on Hegelan brewing methods. Having examined their handiwork first hand I can deduce that they've succesfully denatured their manas, keeping them in some form of solution instead of in blood like most other types. Once I'm able to perfect the mixture I'll be able to start testing the manas themselves. As for the issue of location if I were able to have someone properly act as the face for such a business I could begin distilling the manas for distribution. This could create a source of revenue untouched by any of the major merchant families or even the lords themselves. I'd be able to pay off the cost of the properties and perhaps expand productions, especially if we were able to convince any of the merchant families to invest. If there's one thing merchants would pay heavily for it would be to possess the very thing nobility have kept a monopoly on for so many centuries: The power to wield magic." Having turned this conversation to one about money she then draws and releases a simple sigh, waving off the matter as it distracted from her true intent. Xiuyang had been quite forward in her meaning thus far, saying rather bold things for someone they've only spoken with briefly prior. They deserved a show of faith in kind.

"The money is far from my true ambition however, just a means of seizing independence so that the petty whims of those in power no longer jeopardize my freedom to work. I would discuss the grander, perhaps even grandiose, aims of all this but I cannot relay knowledge gained from The Forked Tower on penalty of death. In time however, I may find opportunity to discuss it further." She gave a simple disappointed shake of her head, having so much to say but forbidden to speak it.

_
"If flesh crafting is your main interest however there is a topic which may benefit both of us. I'm in constant need of bodies to test my magic upon but the dead offer less insight than the living, especially on matters that would make one that is living no longer alive." She left a quick pause before continuing. "I've been growing back both my flesh and the flesh of others more times than I can count. What I am seeking to accomplish however would be to grow another body from but a single piece of myself." She held up the pit of the plum as a visual prop, representing growing something new from an already existing body.

"I understand it may seem sinister to try and clone oneself the purpose is very much for the sake of medical advancement. While it would be useful to have more than one of me to conduct studies whilst I'm otherwise occupied the real use would be in generating husks devoid of consciousness but fully capable of living under their own power. This would allow us to test our magic free of the dangers both to our own lives or to the lives of others." She then looked down, lacing her fingers in front of herself with what possibly be uncertainty.

"With all that being said may I ask your thoughts on these plans thus far? I must admit this is the most I've spoken about my work so far, it feels almost... Unnatural to me." A personal confession. Her desire to open up to others definitely strained against her years of abuse, judgement and isolation.

So what changed? What changed indeed...

Xiuyang snickered at her humorous reply. Yes, she supposed Trypano had dealt with others assuming sinister intent on the regular. Such was the effect of the church demonizing blood magic. She quietly listened as Trypano gushed about her life's work. Her sudden enthusiasm was a good sign that their negotiations were proceeding well, though it gave Xiuyang the impression that she may be the first merchant to show any genuine interest in Trypano's work.

Her suspicions would be confirmed as Trypano began speaking about Hegelan brewing. That particular topic was somewhat alarming to her. "You're not wrong. Money is an obstacle as often as it is an asset, perhaps more so. Hegelan brewing... I must caution you that I have uncles who have disappeared while trying to learn that secret—and a Solari does not simply get lost while traveling in a foreign land," she emphasized, choosing her words carefully. Certainly, a Solari had their means to disappear when they wanted to. The time came eventually, however, to give one up for dead. "The Forked Tower. Damnable obelisk of arrogance," she remarked bitterly. Someday, she believed, the secrets therein would be public. It was unlikely to happen within Xiuyang's lifetime though.

"It's a shame the sanguinaires are unlikely to assist in this endeavor of yours now, either—but I understand the gist of what you're after. You want a location that's closer to civilization, so you can monetize your work once it produces something profitable. In that case, I'll see about pestering my father for my own little workshop. I'm sure he wouldn't bat an eye at me keeping a business partner in my basement, even if he found out," she said with a cheeky grin. "On the topic of ownership, if your 'cloning' can let me accomplish my goals, I'll see that it's yours."

Apparently, she decided she'd drink to that, and took another long swig of her liquor.

Ah yes, the dangers they would face. She was quite well aware.

"I understand well. An entire society built off of such secrets has much to lose should the entire world start running competing products." The air around them was cold and stale in the aftermath of the previous battle, dust still settling even now.

"I don't intend to gamble with the lives of others. If you should find the situation growing too dire I will understand if you decide to cease communications and conceal thyself." She gave a slight aside gesture with her right hand. "It's not a matter I plan to rush either. Many elements will need to be tested for efficacy, set up to enable production proper and of course obfuscate either of our hands in this. Timing and preparation, along with the discovery in and of itself, will be key in implementation." While she made effort to assure her it was no guarantee of safety. Any number of loose ends or unpredicted events could turn the entire effort on it's head or make them lose theirs.

"In regards to the effecacy of the cloning process it's entirely possible, just a matter of technique. What can be made of it will be a matter of study that I shall assist in should you desire. At the very least should the book live up to it's apparent reputation you'll have a measure of say in what we gleam from the answers it gives."
"As for the the property I do have enough money to set up a down-payment should that come into discussion. Various treasures I've managed to collect have padded my coffers well enough and I've been sparce in spending it on trinkets of war unlike many of my colleagues as you may have observed." She looked back at the group, gathering more weapons and tools to heap upon themselves in an effort to become chariots of war in human form. How easy power could twist scholars into would-be conquerors and assassins. She looked back to the pit in her hand, and the flesh of the plum in the other.

"If the location has a garden or yard a plum tree would be suitably scenic."

Trypano was ambitious—dangerously so. One might even say foolishly so. Yet, Xiuyang could not help but respect it. Learning that she was shrewd with her money was promising as well. Though, she also glanced back at the others, and thought to herself that perhaps she could benefit from spending more on trinkets of war. The staff she held in her hand surged with manas, and the mysterious gourd left to her by Mountain Spring had twice given her a boost of energy unlike any alcohol she'd ever tasted, but would those alone have changed Cold Soup's fate? She doubted they would.

"How shrewd. I'd assumed you wouldn't want your name associated with the property for the time being, and I'd sell it to you later when that's no longer an issue," she explained. "It's something to think about once there actually is land to discuss." She shrugged. "The rest sounds agreeable. Including the plum tree," she quipped as she glanced back toward the others again.

"Someone's coming. Shall we wrap this up before he hears you talking to yourself?" She gestured to Valerian.

"You are correct about the issue of papers. Whoever's name goes on there would be tied to what comes out of it." She offered a casual gesture in the direction she presumed Xiuyang was still in. "Paperwork aside, I'm the sort that doesn't like to leave debts unpaid."

On Xiuyang's last remark she didn't attempt to identify who it was that was approaching, instead casting her gaze out to the destruction that marked the land. There was no need to answer as her silence was purposeful, no longer talking to herself, so to speak. She would simply ruminate on matter both worldly and beyond, her expressionless face back to neutral.



Involved - @Emeth
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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Cold Comfort: A Race Against Time



Character: Roslyn
Location: Small Island Fort


After surviving the last attack, Roslyn screamed. Another attack slipped past her defense. Her eyes widened as a dizziness hit her head. She fought the weakness surging into her fragile form. Her heart echoed in her head when suddenly another Volti appeared beside her. His hand reached out and touched her shoulder. From his fingertips, a frozen sensation spread down to her skin. Her flesh curled from it and blackened on the spot. She slapped it away, but the damage stayed. Her foot stepped back, knees buckling and her vision darkening. Her vision slowly faded as she was able to see the one armed illusionist take notice of her and then disappear.

Did I even make a difference? The question echoed in her head, over and over.

She laid there helpless while the scene raged on. Heavy wheezes poured from her chest, liquid collecting in the depths.The wetness of her own blood began to tingle at the back of her throat and choke her. Her dress had been torn and burned in place, the wounds stinging at the air exposure.

Lost in the darkness of a failing body, her mind reflected on her role in all of this.

The one that stuck out the strongest was during the route to the island fort. Esmii's keen eyesight saved them some trouble as she spotted a small group of Volti heading their way. With a deep breath and prayer, Roslyn ducked down the shadows of the alley. She peeked around the corner with the hand canon tightly in her hands.

None of the Volti notice her… yet.

She thought about the ethanol and how it stung. Applying her thoughts, she ignited her gifted weapon just when one of the men turned. As a thick smoke billowed out, she bolted back to the others.

She didn't dare stick around to admire the results of her work.

A tingling stretched across her skin. Wounds started to stitch together and mend, sealing the blood back. Her eyes fluttered open, but the exhaustion still pinned her down. A familiar voice spoke to her. Sven.

"Hang in there, Roshie one."

Roslyn inhaled, crusted blood at her lips. A weak smile crossed her lips as her form shivered. Words finally came to her mind, "I-I'm t-trying, but-t thi-thinking I should've stayed... fuck, at the academy..."

Sven struggled to hear her amid the crazed clash and the act of defending his life, but he can't help but agree.

From somewhere near him, another voice shouted out.

“You hang in there, you hear me!” Esmii.

"I'm t-trying, but-t..."Roslyn inhaled, her lungs seemed to inhale glass rather than air. She pulled herself half way upright, but no more, "I'm not much of a fighter. I'm sorry I let you down-"

Another thunderous explosion occurred, this time it had even shook the earth underneath them, yet what was worse was what stepped from it. A massive fireball had occurred, one that had consumed an entire building, and what stepped through was a single man holding up both of his hands.

Hard to ignore an entrance like that as Roslyn weakly turned in that direction. The Volti's arms snapped out picking two targets: Yuliya and Sven.

Dread filled Roslyn as she watched Sven's neck wrenched around. There was a great deal of pain on his face, his muscles and ligaments snapped, but his vertebrae held.

He slumped to the ground, close to unconsciousness.

She couldn't hear his words through the battle, but her eyes widened at what happened next. Sven rose, his hulking figure incandescent. Heat boiled off of him in colossal waves. His neck twisted back around, steam erupted from his nostrils. The very ground beneath him began to melt.

Like a mad beast, the once gentle Sven rushed forward. His arms reached for any nearby Volti to rend limb from limb.

Things seemed to turn until something else arrived. A wild blood. Upon its claw was a small, one legged woman. Penny. She wasn't moving as her attacker tossed the body aside. Her limp form somersaulted lazily through the air on its way towards the ground.

Then the wildblood hurtled towards Sven.

Sven dropped the mortally wounded Soldato to meet the wildblood in charge. Roslyn could barely register all the chaos around her. Allies rushed to help Penny, counter Volti, and Sven clashed with the new threat. Marz joined into the fray, the stocky man raising his hammer then connecting with the woman. He seemed to drive her back for the moment.

However, Roslyn lingered on Penny, now caught by Oksana. Guilt rolled into her heart at the sight. This was the second time she left her friend behind, but the last time she didn't go back. Why didn’t she go back? She did the first time and everything turned out right. Her breath held in her throat as she watched in fear. Oksana began to heal Penny, drawing energy and pouring into the body with binding. Suddenly Penny pulled in a deep breath and then let out a cough. She rolled onto her side, sniffing. She looked up to see Yvain and Oksana.

The woman’s lips moved before she reached up and kissed Oksana on the cheek in thanks.

All the tension in Roslyn’s form was released, thankful for her friend’s life. She made a weary note to apologize if they all managed to survive this. Right now, that didn’t look too good.

Roslyn forced herself upright and mustered the strength to reach for her med kit. She managed to slip her hand into the bag, pulling the rest of her bandages out. Tugging out the worst of the shrapnel, she pressed her hand to her mouth and muffled a scream. Her fingers then stuffed the cloth into the holes left behind. Using the adrenaline of her panic to her advantage, she continued to patch herself up.

Meanwhile the wildblood's voice rang out with fresh venom briefly catching her attention.

"For too long, we have run and hid from these monsters!" The thresher-beast proclaimed.

"For too long, they have stepped on the common people, fed upon them, and bled this land dry."

Roslyn had just finished when something caught her attention. A rapid movement as the Volti magusjaeger levitated at full speed across the river. Just when it seemed he might hit a small object...

The scene changed.

It was like she blinked and now a dark-haired Vossoriyan held the Volti by the throat, the head at an unnatural angle. The claw like fingers released the limp form causing it to fall and splash into the water below. Still floating in the air, his cold eyes sized up the fallen man's allies. He took out a pair of knives.

"You have five seconds to get out of my city."

Roslyn's skin crawled. Her breath held in her chest and her form froze in place. Something was off about this man. She couldn't explain it, but some instinctive part of her wanted to bolt. She fought the slight tremor surfacing on her form.

What now?!? She asked herself, frustrated with the reality of the worsen situation.



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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by CaliforniaState
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CaliforniaState Biologist

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Event: Primitive Nine




Moving to one of the many port cities that inhabited the coast of Xochiyeteteo didn’t do much in the way for her research as she had originally anticipated. Who would have known there wasn’t much in the way of crime that led to the disposal of corpses in the waters to sink to the bottom of the sea. It would have been easy work with both parties profiting, but alas, the only thing Yansee came up was with rogue coins and the occasional hat or random article of clothing falling into the darkness, beckoning for a body to plunge. The port cities were rather dead when there were no ships in port, which led her to venture around tediously looking for work or anything that would point her in the direction of disposable income or bodies. Eventually, the complacency plaguing her research had vexed her to the point she needed to venture further into the country to find a capital city or one up to par in terms of magnanimity. While she didn’t enjoy the idea of being landlocked instead of by the familiar shores, she knew she what took precedence. Asking around had led her to the same lingering answer, An Zenui.

The decadence displayed upon mere moments of entering the city walls had blinded the young Eeaiko, the seas had no such structure. Water was free and constantly flowing, changing, but this city had been weathered and eroded for years, yet still stood strong, sandwiched between a canyon. The exchange of water for sand was something else that kept her throat and pores parched. Something she would have to remedy the more familiar she became with her living situation. The exaggerated reactions, though warranted, she gave to seeing sirrahi and cazenax were returned to her, she was as foreign to them as they were to her. She was a real fish out of water, despite hating the common misconception of her people’s genealogy. Her broken language served her well enough to start off with tiny odd jobs that put her in shelter and kept her fed. Persistent and tenacious as always, Yansee found herself working in the primitive version of hospice within the city walls. The easiest way to cultivate corpses without having to wait too long. Though, in a city such as An Zenui, her actions, despite discrete, would not go unnoticed.

Her formidable skill in body disposal had earned her a proposition from an organization higher than she could have imagined. She would become of service to someone she only knew as Wesca. From then on, she had saw personally to disposals without question or hesitance. There was monetary compensation, but Yansee only cared for the dead. She pilfered, zombified, and piloted many a body with minor demon in hopes of a perfect homunculus.

Current day

Rays of light that once bled through the curtains in her room, had sunk back and replaced with the dim luminance of the stars above. Yansee clenched the worn leather of a journal she had pressed to her chest, she ruminated in her head if she had overlooked anything with her 891st failed experiment. To no avail in articulating any fault she stuffed the pencil from her mouth into the spine of her journal before closing it and turning out the candles that lined the walls around the head of her bed. Just as she got comfortable a knock could be heard at her door. An utterance of agitation left he lungs, smothering her face with a pillow in hopes it would kill her. Against her better judgement the semi-aquatic being rose to meet her guest. A sirrahi greeted the young necromancer, noting she was to be summoned to Wesca’s residence.

Yansee acquiesced, ignoring the need to change into something more fitting. Her readiness to meet Wesca was unanticipated by the guards, holding her at the gates until she was ready. A few moments passed and as if telepathically told, did the gates open and was she allowed to pass. Yansee found herself in the couple’s garden, a place she had grown familiar with, only to see Wesca walking over while dusting her hands off. An oddity for someone of her status to have dust on her hands, but Yansee overlooked the thought. Making herself at home she saw the prospect of imbibing some quality beverage perched near the overlook. Just as the cool metal reached her lips, she caught vision of someone not as lucky at the bottom of the cliff. Wesca dusting off her hands, the sudden sheen of cleanliness on the overlook, and the fullness of the other cups led her to the conclusion Wesca had poisoned whoever made the ill decision to cross her.

Clearing her throat, she set the cup back down and found a seat across from Wesca. A job, what she had expected. Unlike the ones she had been given before. There would be a litany of corpses, only after she killed them, to her dismay, for her to experiment on to her heart’s desire. Honestly, she could have stopped there, and it would have been enough, but the prospect of more coins than she knew what to do with and anticipation of converting a dragon into one of her undead puppets had sent her heart a flutter as long as she played along with murdering those aforementioned. Agreeing to the contract, Yansee went to gather her things and set out before first light to Netsazai.

Arriving there first had given her vantage points and time to set up for her upcoming battle. It didn’t take long for the presence of a dragon to be felt arriving. As Wesca predicted the woman known as Zarina had Cuimits in tow. Yansee had closed the distance to a comfortable amount calling over to her bounty, “Oi, sou yoo aur tee wun eyem lookeen faur”. A small bubble of corpses, including her fathers, encircled her, her fathers leaning in to offer his excellence. “That dragon is going to turn us into kebobs you know?”




Present @YummyYummy
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

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Esmii'nesta'tawaar




Event: Cold Comfort Race Against Time.


The students decided to split up into two groups
All the students put in their opinion of what to do about the Marbles

"We need to destroy as fast as possible."

Penny had chosen who she wanted to accompany her. She picked Roslyn, Oksana and Esmii. While the others were in another group. Esmii has worked with Oksana before during their little runaround in the monastery. She was starting to build up a friendship with Roslyn so there was that. With Penny, she's helped a little bit so there was a little respect from each other. However every night she slept in the same room with the other female students. Her Yasoi ears felt sore and tingling. Esmii was convinced that it was Penny but had no proof. Everyone double checked that they had everything before heading out to look for their objectives.

Before they separated from each other Esmii caught Sven with a worried look on his face. To cheer her boyfriend up she quickly ran up to him, stretching onto her tiptoes, kissing him.

"Don't worry, I'll be safe. I promise."

She reassured him with a smile then ran off to catch up with the others who were just about to leave her behind. They went over Their objectives once again. Find the devices and destroy them. One problem only Penny was able to sense the devices, so that was a bit of a problem if they were to get separated.

As they got to the river, Oksana had an idea of getting over without little trouble. Luckily they were still able to draw and cast magic. With the help of Esmii and Penny. The three ladies managed to freeze some of the water in the river to make a small pathway of ice to cross. While crossing Penny slipped and fell into the water. Oksana didn't realise what was happening, mostly because she couldn't hear. Esmii and Roslyn wanted to help Penny, but sadly they didn't have much time to help and as the Volti were closing in, Esmii had faith in Penny's abilities she didn't want to leave her behind, but she'd be less likely to get spotted.

Now that it was just the three of them and having no way to find the devices now. Esmii and the others pondered on what to do next for a moment.

We have no way to find the devices now. We could go back looking for Penny. But if we do that, we could be walking into a trap, or Penny could have gotten away…

Her ears twitched, causing her to focus on the world around her. She could hear something, but what. Listening more closely, it was Volti. Seemed that they were planning something, could they be looking for Esmii and the others. But they have the advantage. In a brilliant idea Esmii pointed out the Volti to Roslyn, so she could create something that could slow them down for them. Roslyn successfully made the Volti group fall back from her ambush with her Smoke pistol. With the Volti group temporarily out of the way, the three ladies decided it would be best if they regrouped with the other group, rather than wander around aimlessly.

Upon reaching the other group, it seemed that a fight broke out between some of the students and the Volti members. Esmii, Roslyn and Oksana joined in the battle to assist their other team of students. However the moment of their arrival, a Volti attempted an Atomic magic spell, but the fool lost control blowing himself up.

Esmii was only able to protect herself slightly, the explosion went off knocking her to the ground. Esmii struggled to get up first from the force of the explosion. Placing a hand on her head trying to shake to cobwebs, all she could hear was ringing in her ears. She could tell it was a minor concussion. She felt a fluid drip down her face, it was blood. Looking towards Roslyn, it seems that Roslyn said something but Esmii couldn't hear it, at least for now one of her right arm was burnt from the explosion, she tried to move it, the arm moved but it hurt like hell. The ringing in her ears faded and the world came back to her after some time. She tried standing, her knees were wobbly at first, with some determination she stood back up ready once more.

Seeing Marz was in danger of being struck by an attacker, she quickly went through her satchel. Pulling out a quilt and throwing it to him.

"Marz! Defend yourself with this."

Throwing it also made her fall over, it seemed her balance was still a bit off. A Volti member saw this opportunity to attack her. Esmii couldn't react fast enough, she was in trouble and she knew it. From his outfit being slightly different, she had a feeling that this one was more trained, trying to pick off the weak or injured, they wouldn't know that she was a healer. She closed her eyes, bracing for the Volti to strike her. But a familiar voice bellowed screaming.

"Stay away from her!"

Esmii knew this voice, it was Svens. It seemed that Sven managed to drive off the Volti, who was standing over his Yasoi girlfriend. He shouted other things too, but Esmii couldn't hear she was just relieved to see him. Sven sent an attack at the man, however the Volti vanished.

After the man had vanished, Roslyn came rushing over to her, with one of her binding bandages she began to wrap up Esmii's injured right arm.

"Thank you, Roslyn."

Esmii's arm started to heal with the help with the bandages that Roslyn used, Esmii was impressed by them on how effective they were, after she wondered if she'd be able to replicate them with the right resources. The Volti that tried to ambush her before attacked once more this time targeting Sven and Roslyn. She could only pick one to help defend, so she went with her gut and it picked Sven. Combining their magic they were able to fend off the attack however Roslyn wasn't so lucky. Esmii went to check on her, but was intercepted by a Volti goon he managed to hurt Esmii only slightly but the Kinetic force she knew happened and the goon was repelled back by the Kinetic energy. Esmii however stopped in her tracks by the injury she took. Sven came running towards Esmii he started to draw in an attempt to heal her. Esmii put her hand up to her Yani to stop him.

"No, not me. Heal Roslyn. She needs it more. I'll be ok.

She smiles at him. Fatigue was starting to set in on Esmii due to her injuries but she didn't want to be a burden to people. Once Sven had stabilised Roslyn, Esmii slowly made her way to Roslyn, and she placed Roslyn’s head on her knees and shouted to her.

"You hang in there, you hear me."

Almost immediately after, Sven was clutching his neck, something was wrong. Esmii rushed to his side. Standing in front of him she was frantically looking around, saying.

"Sven!"

Esmii started to panic, she didn't know what was causing this. She didn't know how to save him; she still tried to use magic to help defend him from whatever it was attacking him. However it wasn't working, fear started to set in, tears building up in her eyes. He was about to die and she couldn't do anything to protect him. When his body went limp, she lost all sense of herself, her body trembled, she shook him, no response. She tried to speak but the words were caught in her throat. She began to sob.

By some miracle, Sven stood back up. Esmii dried her eyes, confused on what was going on at first but in that moment she knew he was still alive. Which turned her tears of sadness into joy.

After the chaos had unfolded Sven collapsed to the floor and whatever he did, took its toll on him. Esmii ran to him, Tears still running down her face, he wasn't moving she assumed the worst. Kneeling beside him, she put two fingers just on his neck to check his pulse, it was faint, but he was alive. She desperately began trying to heal him, she didn't care about her own condition. She wanted her Yani safe and alive and nothing was going to stop her.
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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Ti
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Ti Kitti

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Event: Primitive | Location: An Zenui


The blue eyes of the Red Nashibansek Coon opened as the gruff voice spoke. The feline's keen senses started to pick up on its surroundings; his cat-like instincts tingled, aware of something magical in the air as he dangled from the scruff of his neck.

It was then a beautiful woman radiated curiosity and fascination toward him, his eyes widened as she approached. He picked up on the mixture of emotions in her aura, his eyes following her movements as she got closer, his ears twitching to catch every sound as she spoke.

The woman cradled him in her arms, feeling her touch—gentle and warm. Her aura resonated with intrigue and wonder, igniting a similar sense of excitement within him. His tail twitched with the thrill of being noticed and cared for. He nuzzled into her hand, sinking his claws lovingly—and painfully—through her clothing to make contact with her, infusing himself with her essence to create a unique connection. He now knew her as Ayla, the Lioness of Varrahasta, witnessing a home full of cats and creatures just like himself—a place known as Heaven.

Words began to take shape in his mind, sounds having meaning, enabling him to understand language such as Avincian spoken, but his thoughts adopted a pattern known as Torragonese. And he heard a powerful word called a 'Name,' and at that moment, the meaning came to him—a name represents a piece of his identity, a word that echoes his essence through the tapestry of existence. It was a name that the heavenly maiden had just christened him with, 'Nyan-Acan!' However, after much talking, they spoke of this as a sacred name, an alternative identity perhaps, with a simpler name provided of 'Benny,' after a copper coin of great worth and value.

Benny began to sense the tension in the air and the impending change. His attention was drawn to their voices, the cadence of their speech, the emotions interwoven with their words. Something was not right; he grew restless and wary as he refused the other woman’s advances toward him, squirming to warn Ayla, as he looked up to meow toward her. "Oh, dear Ayla, something's not bueno. See how my tail swishes and my corazón beats fast? Listen, there's danger."

The divine maiden only sought to relax him; he felt that chemical magic radiate soothing energy as his restlessness subsided. When the servant brought the cactus wine, he noticed the shifting dynamics between the pair, his attention flickering between their exchange of words. He used all his might to fight through that chemical magic; perhaps if he could get away, she would follow him. His paws twitched with eagerness as he escaped and was free to explore, darting in pursuit of a gecko. "¡Olé! A scurrying lizard, Ayla! Watch as we chase that little diablito, moving you away from imminent peril."

The scene takes a dark turn; the sudden shift in auras, the rise of uncertainty and fear. He watched as the poison took effect on his beloved maiden. His body tensed as he sensed the duel of magic, the conflicting energies. Urgency and panic filled the air. In the chaos, Benny's instincts guided him as he witnessed Ayla fall; his heart raced with a mix of distress and helplessness as the scene unfolded before his eyes. "By the whiskers of the great Nyan-Acan! We shall not let this tragedy unfold. With swift paws and a brave heart, we leap to rescue you, dear Ayla."

His determination surged as he leaped from the balcony’s edge; his tail flicked and swayed with purpose. In the air, his magical energy blended with his intention, interacting with the surrounding environment. He envisioned a protective weave—the vibrant cloth coverings, laundry lines, and other textiles responded to his unspoken command.

Colours blurred, fabric danced as if to an invisible rhythm, his thoughts acting like a conductor's baton; his tail was a magical needle. "With claws sharp as navajas and weaver's skill, I conjure a protective manto. Look, Ayla, as the fabrics dance, a shelter woven by fate's breeze." The cloth bent, folded, and intertwined, weaving an intricate lattice that stretched beneath Ayla’s falling form. The fabric cushioned her fall as it embraced her, wrapping around her like a dangling cocoon. Landing expertly on his feet, he looked up to witness the completed work. His focus began to shift from the suspended safety net to the urgent task at hand—finding help.

He remembered the term ‘human’, what Ayla was, which set her apart from the others. His senses, sharpened by his unique attributes, guided him through the bustling town. His heightened sense of smell led him through winding alleys scented with spices, earth, and the activity of humans.

Benny’s tail swayed in rhythm with his determined steps, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings, seeking any familiar aura or trace. He caught snippets of conversations, glimpses of daily life, but his focus remained steadfast as his intuition guided him.

Finally, as if drawn by an invisible thread, his instincts led him to a nearby house, his tail flicking with anticipation as he sensed a familiar scent from within. Without hesitation, he approached, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and urgency. In a display of agility, Benny leaped onto a windowsill, peering through to spot Marci within. He let out a soft, determined meow, conveying urgency to the girl inside. "Vamos, human! Follow mi camino, carved by the hot wind. Soy Benny el gran Nyan-Acan, and we'll guide you to save Ayla!"




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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Suicharte
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Suicharte

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Yuliya was not wrong about the fighting continuing. She had little time to waste as they begun their search for the boxes and the marbles. They bounded through the city, Penny being left behind as they made their way to the center with Volti in hot pursuit. It was a Magusjaeger that had earned her ire though, one that had continuously stumped her. She'd been on a breakthrough of using her temporal magic, getting those boxes back to the only place she could trust, her concentration was shattered by a bullet that did not wish to stop. She was forced to leap aside, letting her teleportation spell split. The first of many frustrations as the group began their counter offensive against this marauding group of terrorists.

They fought well. The Volti were absolutely no chumps, and even the weakest of them were putting dents and cracks in their armor and plans. The weakest among them had been reduced to deaths door, as had Yuli by the continued assault by Soldato, a man she'd swore vengeance upon. Time and time again he had laid eyes on her with the rifle, the grenade, etc. and he had almost always found his mark. She was bleeding, rather profusely through the armour, until Khaliun had time to spare her binding wisdom upon her, which rejuvenated what was left. Then came Sven's berserker rampage, as he tore through ranks of Volti until reaching the Magusjaeger. A beatdown ensued, but he collapsed to the strength of the wildblood before he could finish the job. There he stood, lifeless as the body of Soldato snuck away, the group seldom making a gain as she attempted to cast the same spell that Penny had in vain. It was then she begun to realize her own mortality. That death was in reach of her. That was when she resolved to use it, the ultimate weapon.

And so, she pressed Khaliun for hers first, but her hand was forced to use her own as another bullet came her way. She plucked it from the doll and looked at that Magusjaeger as time slowed, aiming carefully as she flung the bead of pure destruction his way. Collateral damage was not in her mind. It had never been in her mind. That was why such trouble had occurred during the fight with Brother Ash. The marble found its way past the oncoming bullet. The Magusjaeger lept into it, hoping to block the damage. And then, time stopped. Even she was caught unawares.

And when it came to once more, she saw her ancestor. Radomir, the legendary protector of Vossoriya, standing before the remaining volti, telling them to leave as the body of the magusjaeger made its way into the ocean. Were she not so deep into a survival focused mindset, she would have laughed. They'd won! But, had they? His appearance could only mean one thing. That there was a genuine threat, one more insidious than a bunch of Volti that they had managed to stand on somewhat even footing with. Where was the rest of the council, or the progenitor? A shiver ran up her spine as she looked up at him, pleading for confidentiality and answers, only softly speaking in her native tongue.

"Почему ты здесь, сэр??"(Why are you here, sir?) she kneeled as she spoke. To any who knew her true identity, such a gesture would seem proposterous, but this man held great reverence in her heart. And of any Vossoriyan who would recognize his face. A man who had saved this country from destruction more than once, earning the worthy epithet "The Legendary Protector."

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Hidden 1 yr ago 7 mos ago Post by Ti
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Ti Kitti

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Event: Primitive Dream Sequence | Location: ???, An Zenui


As Ayla fell, the world seemed to collapse in on itself, fragments shattering like glass and giving way to an engulfing darkness. Shadows danced around her, and she found herself standing in a dimly lit chamber, the ground beneath her rippling like a puddle. Although light was absent, a peculiar luminance illuminated a pint-sized Ysilla doll placed strategically, its arms mimicking the hands of a clock ticking away the final moments for the Hours of Dami.

“Hola, Kitten,” a voice purred, drawing Ayla's attention to a peculiar figure. The person seemed to be examining their own appearance before fixing a smirk on Ayla. “Look who’s finally taking notice. Not that it matters, considering your track record.”

Ayla steeled herself, her gaze firmly fixed on the strange woman. The figure bore an uncanny resemblance to Ayla, but taller, more shapely, and their fiery hair was crowned with newly sprouted horns from the temples of their head. There was only one other who had ever possessed such features, someone Ayla wished she would never have to encounter again. “Hetraxa... what do you want?”

“Oh, just the same old thing. To take control, to finally make a difference in this pitiful existence of ours.” Hetraxa's hands gestured suggestively toward her chest, her lips curving into a playful grin. “I'm sure Rikard would prefer these, wouldn't he?”

Ayla frowned, responding defiantly. “We won’t let you, I won’t let you take over.” Her voice softened slightly as she added, "Besides, he's just a friend."

Hetraxa mouthed ‘Just’ in response as she burst into laughter, the sound ringing with an edge of amusement. “You act as if you’re the one in control now. Tell me, Ayla, just how many close calls have you had? How many lives have you wasted?” She picked up the Ysilla doll, cradling it as if it were a cherished possession. “They say an Arslan only has nine lives, after all.”

“That's preposterous,” Ayla muttered dismissively.

“Eight times!” Hetraxa's grin widened, her pointed fangs glistening ominously in the strange light. “I was surprised myself, and seven were just in this past year alone.” She continued to dote on the puppet, her swaying mirroring the tick-tock of the Ysilla doll's arms. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Ayla was visibly shaken by this revelation. “That's not fair. We’re trying to do what's right.”

“Trying? There's no 'trying' in life or death. And don't even get me started on your lack of will. You can barely stand up for yourself, let alone others,” Hetraxa replied with a mocking tone, her finger trailing over the doll's arm to reposition it. “Let's have a closer look at each of those 'attempts'.”

The darkness surrounding them began to shimmer like Ayla's astral cloak, forming constellations that took on shape, colour, and substance. The scenes played out like fresh memories, each representing a brush with mortality that Ayla had narrowly escaped. The most recent was Wesca with her face in a grimace in the moments before pushing Ayla.

“Always trying to see the good in people. You could have chosen a better hill to die on that time.” Hetraxa pointing out the obvious.

The next scene was Marci, the girl was in dire straits as Ayla ran into the devouring swarm. “Aw, so sweet. Though it is a shame at how fast they grow up. One minute helpless darlings, the next moment they are robbing nobles. What’s next, murder?” Hetraxa rubbed her hands together as her eyes sparkled as she flicked through them one after another.

Ayla's eyes welled with tears as she watched each scenario, the rawness of those moments rushing back. Hetraxa's commentary accompanied each memory, taunting Ayla with the notion that she was simply wasting her chances at life.

The scenes continued to flicker, capturing moments of danger, sacrifice, and resilience. With every passing moment, Ayla's heart grew heavier, and her resolve wavered. Wildblood Zarina, Old Benny, Jocasta during Roses & Neskals, Heart in the ruins of Zaqhoria, the penultimate one in the desert…

Finally, the memories came to a painful halt, a scorching blank where a particular scene should have been. Ayla's head throbbed as if a fire was consuming her memories, and she winced in agony.

Hetraxa's voice broke through the haze, her gaze focused on the scene as she appeared seated and mimicking eating some kind of small snack. “You really do hate yourself, don't you? Dying time and again for those 'friends' of yours.”

“One doesn't hate oneself, don't be absurd,” Ayla retorted, her voice dripping with venom.

Hetraxa's attention shifted back to the scene, which now portrayed a younger Ayla, surrounded by flames, tears streaming down her face as she declared her self-loathing. It was a painful reminder of a time when her hurt her friends. It was the first time, the day when Ayla killed herself. Her stained dark since as she renounced who she was.

“There's a saying that 'denial' isn't just a river...” Hetraxa's tone turned thoughtful, almost contemplative.

Ayla clenched her fists, determination welling within her despite the overwhelming doubt that Hetraxa's words had seeded. “We won't let you define me. We've come this far, and we won't give up now.”

Startlingly, Hetraxa materialized beside Ayla, her voice a soft and gentle contrast to her previous taunts. “Oh, but you're missing the point, dear Ayla. This isn't about defining you. It's about saving you.”

Ayla's brow furrowed in confusion. “Saving me?”

Hetraxa's demeanour shifted again, her cheerfulness returning for a fleeting moment as she clapped her hands together before seriousness took over. “Yes. You've been evading your potential, your strength. I'm not here to destroy you; I'm here to make you stronger. You’re my vessel.”

Ayla trembled, as if every fibre of her being fought against that thought. The world around them took on a visceral quality, responding in kind. The sky turned shades of red, casting an ominous hue, and the water at her feet transformed into a blood-like colour. The rhythmic beat of her heart seemed to echo throughout the space.

Hetraxa's expression grew darker as flames erupted around her, an eerie shade of deep red that carried a sinister aura. The flames expanded, forming a massive ring that encircled both of them. She created a circle in the air, conjuring a rift in reality—Ayla recognized it immediately as the Vozas. Hetraxa plunged her hand into the portal, her mouth moving as she communed with it. Withdrawing her hand, she revealed a large, burning sword. It was an Arcane sabre similar to Niallus's, but noticeably larger and burning with greater intensity.

Ayla began to retreat, finding herself confined by the dark red flames. Hetraxa approached with slow, confident steps, a domineering presence. Ayla's gaze remained fixed on the blade as she edged away along the fiery boundary.

Hetraxa, displeased by Ayla's evasive movements, observed her with growing irritation. Channelling her energy into the blade, she unleashed a forceful strike toward Ayla. The fire blade snaked through the air like a whip, its length growing as it closed in on Ayla's position. Ayla managed to evade the attack with quick movements, narrowly escaping its reach.

“Look at you, barely holding your ground. You're not fighting for your beliefs, you're clinging to your fear,” Hetraxa taunted, her blade continuing to lash out. It cornered Ayla, her options narrowing as she was backed into a corner.

A sense of impending doom gripped Ayla as Hetraxa closed in. How could she fight against Hetraxa and her formidable weapon? Desperately, Ayla mentally cast items aside, including her flute. Then it struck her—the Golden Lion Spell blade of Aur’iguul’adzong. The thought drew her attention to the blade hanging from her waist, as if it had been there the entire time. She clasped her hands around it, channelling her kinetic energy. The hilt vibrated within her grasp, and with a telltale hum, a blade of pure sonic energy emerged. As Hetraxa's attack came in, Ayla intercepted it, her blade clashing against the fiery strike. “No, I fight for what's right without losing my humanity!”

Ayla's guard was momentarily lowered, and Hetraxa seized the opportunity, striking her against the side. Ayla was sent sprawling onto the wet floor. Hetraxa's grimace revealed her satisfaction. “Humanity? Your humanity won't save you when the odds are stacked against you.”

The world trembled as the thrumming grew louder. The temperature increased, and the ground shook violently, as if an earthquake raged beneath them.

Breathing heavily, Ayla struggled to her feet. “No... We won't let you take over. We won't let you define my fate!”

A barrage of blows rained down from Hetraxa's fiery sword, but Ayla managed to deflect and parry them. Using her might, she knocked the sword aside, utilizing footwork to evade the relentless assault.

Hetraxa paused, her displeasure evident as she watched Ayla. “Stubborn, aren't you?” She extended her hand, causing the red flames to transform into an all-encompassing darkness. The flames seemed to pull light into a void, appearing distorted and ethereal. The darkness extended infinitely within itself, leaving only the flame's essential form suspended in a sea of darkness. The ring of flames began to shrink, the horizon fading into nothingness, as if erasing reality itself. “Behold Llama de la Oscuridad Eterna - The Flame of Eternal Darkness.”

Ayla surveyed her surroundings, determination growing as she charged at Hetraxa. Her sonic blade's intensity intensified as it clashed with Hetraxa's air-made weapon. Ayla's voice became her blade, her feet moved to the rhythm of her heart. Her strength grew, and she declared, “We're not defined by our mistakes or fears. We define ourselves by our actions!”

Hetraxa's fury surged, flames roared and flickered, clashing against Ayla's strength. Arcane versus Kinetic. Pyromancy versus Sonic. Red versus Blue. Darkness versus Light. The two locked onto each other, their fighting instinct unbridled.

As an inferno descended, fireballs erupted in the red water. Ayla dodged and weaved between them, launching a sonic stream at Hetraxa, sending her tumbling. Hetraxa landed gracefully like a cat, her fiery hair extending like tendrils. She retaliated, using her fiery hair as a weapon. Which Ayla countered using her enhanced nails like claws.

Hetraxa retreated, her dash leaving behind a trail of flame. She gazed intently at Ayla, the dark flame threatening to engulf them. There was nowhere to run as Hetraxa launched her final attack. She summoned a great pillar of fire, Marhazannet.

The blazing pillar seared Hetraxa's skin, her smile wide with anticipation of victory. Out of the flames emerged Ayla, having cast Sonic Shield! Roaring like a lion, she used all her strength to puncture through the pillar, her sonic blade slicing through Hetraxa.

Hetraxa's form began to dissolve, defeated. Her voice softened. “You did it. Now, take it.”

The world grew calmer as the dark flames subsided. Ayla's breathing and temperature returned to normal. She turned to watch Hetraxa's form vanishing, congealing into a dark orb. Ayla hesitated, then reached out. “Why? After everything?”

Hetraxa's gentle voice persisted, “Because I am the strength you deny. Embrace me, and you'll be whole.”

Ayla took a deep breath, holding the demon soul in her hands. The surroundings brightened, becoming serene. She whispered softly, “We'll accept your strength.” Raising the soul orb to her mouth, she bit into it.

The pain that followed was excruciating, feeling herself absorbing it. She screamed in torment.

“I'll always be a part of you.”



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Xiuyang Solari
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Seki stood across from the two sanguinaires, Cold Soup and Mountain Spring—and a third individual, a student covered head to toe. One foul demon was dealt with, and there were several more to go, but Seki was used to fighting without numbers on his side. Besides, that'd be remedied soon... still, he turned to them, his eyes closed and a hand resting on one of two katanas sheathed at his hip.

"The odds are not even. Two monsters and a scared child are not fitting opposition. I would wait to make this a fair fight, but I'm afraid my hands are tied here. Fight well. Do not fear. And perhaps one of five heavens will open their door for you in spite of your many crimes.

As battlefields were set and partners drawn, the lone samurai Hitoshi had drawn his sword and took his position, yet over the fighting and battles beginning, a loud and drawn out belch occured. "少年、なぜ子供たちは戦っているのですか? (Boy, why are the kids fighting?)" A strange wind blew through the air, an awful stench wafted as a giant of a man made his presence known.

A giant standing heads and shoulders over most men, he seemed almost lost as he made his way over. Hitoshi was scratching his beard as he was looking around at the other fights, holding in one hand a bottle that he now took a swig of. It was then Hitoshi noticed a gourd at Seki's side.

Hitoshi began to crouch, almost seeming to try and hide as he snuck his way over to try and stealthily take it, as once in range he'd try to snatch it and take a big swig of the gourd, whatever is inside, "乾杯 (Cheers)".

As soon as Xiuyang was able to recover from Wu Long's outrage, she covered herself with arcane illusions to buy herself some time. Glancing around as the students scattered into various groups, she tried to find herself an ally that she trusted. Truthfully, she couldn't find one—but there was one man that she was at least somewhat confident wouldn't let her get mowed down like grass.

She made her way over to Mountain Spring, appearing just in the corner of his field of view to announce her presence. "Well, it's good that everyone took your side. I don't think the old lizard would have let me finish my speech," she quipped. "It'll be bad for me if you died, so I suppose I'm backing you up." She didn't contest the ronin's comment about her being a frightened child. Let him underestimate her; he was probably right to do so.

“HAHA! I love conceited Ronins. Shattering their pride, the only thing they have left, brings satisfaction few things ever can!” laughed Cold Soup, knuckles cracked and a childish grin plastered to her face. The massive woman's mere presence caused the vicinity to cool down into uncomfortable temperatures. Frost accumulated quickly on nearby plant life and the wind became razor sharp.

Her partner was busy gorging himself on his recently refilled bottle. “Mmmm, mmm ...” he finished, burped and sloppily wiped his lips and cheeks with his loose sleeve. “Did you hear about the—hic—Ronin in the Tatami?” the jolly drunk began with a gleeful smile. He'd had at least three gourds' worth of alcohol since his negotiations with Xiuyang. “It, uhhhhh, involves a woman.” he stared emptily at his opponents in a moment of absence. “Basically, your mom's a bitch. Let's do this!” An improvised and poor excuse of a battle stance was adopted. It looked as though he could tip over at any second.

Seki did not turn or fight his gourd being taken. He allowed it to happen, and used the distraction of the idle talk and discussion to change the battlefield to his advantage. He spoke in his native tongue softly, regarding his comrade: "彼らは悪魔に魔法をかけられてしまったのです。目を閉じてください、友人(They have been bewitched by demons. Close your eyes, friend.)" as he raised but a single finger and let out a blinding flash of light using his arcane ability.

“RAH! Why can't I see?!” growled the beast of a woman as she began to conjure a storm of ice and frost, sending it right at the Ronin.

Seki drew his blade, the white ripple tearing through reality, as he slashed twice against the ice and frost, creating distortions and ripples in atomic structure that attempted to dissolve and explode the frost before it reached him.

Already, Xiuyang felt herself in dire straits. She shut her eyes and drew arcane energies from the flash, kneeling down to hopefully make herself a smaller target against the everything that was undoubtedly coming her way very soon.

With opponents this powerful, she couldn't give herself time to think of anything more clever than her usual strategy. She created as many illusions of herself as she could during the flash, hopefully to blend in among them while no one could see her.

With his blade now at hand, and the effects of the flash waning, it was time to move. He went for the target that felt the blind the worst, Cold Soup, as she was giving away her position by emitting her frozen air. Seki used a kinetically enhanced swing of the sword in an attempt to cleave off a limb or two. A massive chemical reaction within Soup's body caused a quick release of atomic energy to counter it.

Mountain Spring leapt into the air and was attempting to... headbutt dive Hitoshi?! Hitoshi met the headbutt by hardening his own head with Kinetic, then quickly grabbed his Jar from his back to smash the smaller man with a Magnetic and Kinetic combo. Spring responded with a fiery uppercut, to which Hitoshi drew from that energy and met Spring's fist with his hardened headbutt attack.

Seki continued his onslaught against Cold Soup using magnetic, drawing the blade to the iron in her bloodstream to significantly speed up the slash. Cold Soup defended with a thick shield of hardened, frozen earth. She let out a grunt as she recoiled. Enraged, she glared at her enemy with her restored eyesight. That sword, it was a problem. The air grew much colder, with Soup as the epicentre. “Fuck you, Nikanese dog!” she bellowed. Then, a pure white sphere formed on her palm—the fruit of this build up—and she shaped it into a simple arrow. She fired it, and its unnatural form made it unusually difficult to perceive to all. It was sent right at Seki, but more specifically, his sword.

Seki did not see the arrow, but he felt it. This was dangerous. He drew as much as he could, and unleashed an atomic/arcane powered shockwave to dissuade this thing from bringing an end to the fight. Hitoshi broke off from his bout with Mountain Spring to assist in his young drinking buddy's defense against this strange arrow with a blend of Kinetic, Magnetic and Chemical magic that Xiuyang could feel but hardly begin to understand. The arrow's light warped in mysterious ways as well, but as Hitoshi drew in the last of its energies, it vanished.

Seki seized the initiative. He had been unprepared for such an attack, but his summon and friend Hitoshi had bought him time—valuable time he needed to launch a counter assault. He flipped the blade around and attempted another blow, similar to the one he'd dealt before, this time using kinetic enhancement, Cold Soup angrily defending herself with much of the same.

Mountain Spring stumbled, played dead, and then just suddenly leapt towards Hitoshi with the rage of a thousand suns. Hitoshi was ready to defend himself from this odd assault with a wall swiftly built with binding magic, and the moment the drunkard hit it, Hitoshi... shrugged, and kicked the wall to make it fall over onto the man. Almost as an afterthought, he used magnetic and kinetic magic to speed up its fall. "おっと、倒れたようだ" (Oops, Looks like you fell over) Mountain Spring, in one epic motion, rolled out, stood on one foot, and adopted the stance of the stupid crane. “You racka dissiprine grasshoppa!”

Two ripples were on the field. Seki knew that were he to miss his next, the play would be complete. Alas, he continued his onslaught, using magnetism to electrically charge his blade once again at Cold Soup. Xiuyang felt the surge of chemical energy as the beast of a strongwoman's muscles bulged as she constructed a mighty armor of ice and frozen earth with binding and arcane magic, leaving Xiuyang in awe of her brute strength. Even so, Mountain Spring had to intervene to fully defend Seki's onslaught.

With the opening given by Spring, Soup unexpectedly got in the way of the sword, only for Seki to realize she had... become liquid?! Seki's sword pierced right through her, her form completely uncompromised. Then, she attempted to seize Seki, essentially forcing him to 'wear' her. Seki slashed down with the sword once more, sending a kinetic and arcane shockwave to repel the liquid. Unable to stop Cold Soup by himself, Hitoshi intervened again, drawing energy from her and using magnetic and arcane magics to stop her from moving, or resolidify her—anything to stop this unholy assault upon the poor ronin. Spring, bearing witness to this horror show, simply took a swig from his gourd. Meanwhile, one of the many Xiuyangs had been following Cold Soup closely. She raised a wand, ostensibly to use binding magic on her injuries. However, the actual magic came from a different source: a Xiuyang that did not raise a wand, but simply circled the ongoing battle from a distance.

Until now, Xiuyang had only used her binding magic to subtly reduce the damage Spring and Soup had taken, but just then...






...she had decisively intervened.

Cold Soup, who had been run ragged by her two assailants, was fully healed.

Time and space rippled in the air, the result of 3 powerful slashes that had failed to find purchase on Cold Soup. Seki slowly took his blade and sheathed it, as the holes in time and space tore through reality, a multitude of slashes from other timelines surrounding and ravaging the form of the muscular woman, who had almost managed to engulf Seki in a liquid form.

Soup, now healed and back to her prime, muscular state, began to draw with the power of a hundred iceveins to aggressively neutralize the energy that could bend time itself. “Bring it, limpdick!” The strongwoman smirked, supercharged with energy, and looked to Spring. They both nodded. She conjured up a blizzard of horrifying magnitude, while Spring leapt into the air and let the winds guide him. He gained more and more momentum, eventually reaching levels of speed and unpredictability that would make Golden Monkey proud.

Seki turned, earnestly surprised she survived that attack. He quickly found need of his blade again, and drew it once more, slashing at the onslaught of both Mountain Spring and Cold Soup in an attempt to dismantle the attack with a flurry of atomic reactions enhanced by magnetism and polarity. Hitoshi, seeing his adversary jump away as both of the bloodsuckers went to combine their forces against his drink provider, drew from the energy of the giant blizzard with kinetic and arcane, using the energy to melt the ice.

Free to act as she pleased on account of being ignored by the two swordsmen, another Xiuyang, different from the one before, raised her wand, and Mountain Spring felt the effects of a Blessing of Vigor. "Stay out of this, child. This is your only warning. You are not a demon, but raising arms against me is raising arms against the Pentad." Seki spoke with authority, as he began to return the favor. They needed to work together. He turned his head to Hitoshi and nodded, hoping he would pick up on the cue. They needed to attack together, just as the demons had. He leapt forward once more, a kinetically enhanced slash as he heated up his blade to help cut through the biting frost. Hitoshi enhanced Seki and his blade with Kinetic and Chemical to make him as powerful as possible to take down Cold Soup.

She responded exactly as before, her muscles bulging as she produced a frosty, rocky armor. Mountain Spring also intervened again, adding his power to hers for the defense. He then appeared by Hitoshi and attempted to smack him on the head with his gourd, but Hitoshi slapped away the attack with a binding-hardened fist, charged with magnetic energies.

"A child I may be—but even I know better—than to claim equal standing with the Pentad," various Xiuyangs spoke in turn, perhaps to distract Seki as another cast Ahn-Shune's Enigma at Mountain Spring. Seki responded by switching the focus of his attacks to the invisible Mountain Spring. Cold Soup was proving to be a difficult foe. This other element was dangerous and unpredictable, and needed to be eliminated before the other. He leapt towards him, ignoring the child's words as he attempted to split atoms, space and time.

The storm Cold Soup conjured at the start of the battle unleashed thunderbolts from the sky to intercept Seki's assault. Spring performed a flying double kick at Seki, who responded by charging his blade with magnetic and arcane. Cold Soup angrily fired another of her strange arrows, to which Seki responded with another kinetic and atomic slash, which vaporized her attack. Mountain Spring was on Hitoshi, bombarding him with consecutive punches.

Xiuyang's heart was beating out of her chest as she watched these behemoths of magical power fight each other. The tension was becoming unbearable. It wasn't quite that she felt like she'd rather recklessly risk her life and face the consequences than continue to face the fear, though that was part of it. Part of her also knew by now that the pairs were evenly matched. She needed to do something more substantial than rub salt in the wounds inflicted by her allies. While Hitoshi was contending with Mountain Spring, she threw an arcane lance from behind, enhanced with chemical, thrown diagonally so as to not hit Mountain Spring if Hitoshi were to move out of the way.

Hitoshi slammed down his jar the moment mountain spring seemed to fade away. He drew both his blades as the moment he felt the first blow nearly land, he slashed his blade against and parried away the first blow. And then the onslaught began.

Hitoshi and Mountain Spring began their clash. With the ever occurring onslaught Mountain Spring rained down onto Hitoshi, his fists began to heat up as his fists gained more strength. Hitoshi began drawing from the heat of the attacks, the energy of the fists colliding with his blade, and converting this energy to magnetic and began to use it to constantly move his blades into the way of the blows while adding a magnetic charge onto Mountain spring's blows to push them away.

Hitoshi's face began to wear a smile, as he said with glee in rough Retanese, "Come then Bitch!"

Their clash sent out a constant stream of sparks, chips of metal, and lightning. Hitoshi was set onto the back foot, yet it was a constant stream of blows, never allowing him to move. Yet in that moment, he felt his arms feel weak, his chest felt hot and hollow, as the moment he saw the man in front of him step and turn away Hitoshi realized what happened. He looked down as he could see blood flow from his chest, a hole had seared its way through the center of his chest.

A spew of blood came from his mouth as he shifted his hand over to his jar and cut the top off with his hand as he grabbed it and took a swing. He knew this would not save him, yet it was something to tide the burning hunger in his stomach. He set the jar down, and leaned on it leaving this world on his feet and with a full belly.

Seki stared at the body of his fallen comrade as it dissipated into ash and dust. He did not frown, or cry. His friend had been recalled from the great beyond to assist him in this endeavour, and he had done just that. But what he could not resist, was the rage. The rage that this impudent child had aided enemies of the gods. The rage that these monsters were winning, and they were free to continue their reign of terror. No. He would deal them a blow before he left. He knew they would not win this fight, he saw the others fall one by one. Even Ash, strong as he was, could not tip the scales further.

Xiuyang couldn't believe it. For a single second that felt like five, she stood frigid, watching the man she'd struck be reduced to ash. Part of her had not expected to succeed—thought it impossible that she could ever make a difference—but she did. She fucking killed a man. One glance in the direction of the ronin, in one single second that felt like ten, the gravity of what she'd done hit her as she saw the man's fury, and felt its heat. Her hand trembled with the weight of the life she'd just taken—and with fear. Xiuyang braced herself—for what, precisely, she was uncertain, but she knew that failing to heed the ronin's warning would likely have consequences.

"I will not let you die alone, Hitoshi. Let me send this monster to join you."

Seki's blade and blood ran hot, resisting the frost as he once again turned to Cold Soup, a great leaping kinetic/arcane strike. Soup laughed at the recent triumph of her team. She readied an atomic punch to counter the incoming assault from Seki. Seki landed behind her as she managed to repulse the attack, but the slashes were once again in place, ready to finish what he started. He did not look behind him, as he sheathed his blade. Time and space sloshed around in a flurry, preparing to unleash the fury that Seki held within his heart, and potentially tearing apart everyone who dared get close.

Soup laughed and laughed, that Ronin was done! And surely he'd be a delicious meal—but then it hit her, far slower than it likely hit Xiuyang and Spring... Her frost, her storm! It was gone! It was actually scorching hot. “Shit!” she realized a bit too late that the time stream had been corrupted once more. Something horrible was coming and her cold could not save her this time. “SPRING!” she called out, desperation in her eyes—but Spring was so far. What was going on?! The world around her was twisted and nonsensical. A temporal prison prevented her ally to intervene in the pure, unadulterated death being sent right back at her. “YOU FUCKING NIKANESE DOG! AAAAAHHHHHHH!” She staked it ALL, in all her brutish and predictable glory—Bosonic Transformation, controlled by an electromagnetic field, and her own Temporal pushback.

Seki exhaled, his body burning up from the sheer amount of heat running through his veins as he finished his attack. The sword struggled to enter its sheath, the sheer amount of power running through it made it heavier than any blade known to man, as behind him, time and space was torn to oblivion, tearing, shredding, ripping the sanguinaire to pieces and then to nothing, as her futile attempts to defend herself only accelerated the rabid slashes erasing her from all realities. Xiuyang watched, transfixed in awe and horror as the woman whose name she didn't even know was fully and simply erased from being. Though none could see her mouth agape, her eyes betrayed her true feelings in that moment. The slashes collapsed inwards further and further, before a shockwave sent all combatants around flying in seperate directions, knocking Seki to the floor. He did not smile, but he was glad that he was able to deliver some justice, even if he knew deep down that they had failed to save the people of this nation, as he felt himself beginning to weaken. Even if he wanted to, he could not continue. He was not bound by the honour of a samurai, even if his heart willed it. He was a ronin. He would have to live on. There would always be another chance.

"A life for a life, Echiran is sated. I see no point in continuing these theatrics. You have won." as he rose from the ground to his feet once more, no longer holding a hand on the blade that had granted him a false victory in this fight.

Xiuyang was flying through the air. She had no time to think. Instinctively, she moved to land on her feet, only to realize too late that she was not wearing her kinetic boots. Cursing inaudibly as she realized what was about to happen, a muffled cry of agony escaped her mask as she tumbled away, her ankle suffering the final insult of Seki's parting gift. Knowing that her sudden flight had exposed her, she quickly turned back toward the direction she'd came, expecting the follow-up attack—but the man was, mercifully, long gone.

That didn't mean she could afford to catch her breath. So fucking what, she'd managed to spear herself a single shark. The feeding frenzy continued all around her, and her blood was now in the water. Frantically, she mended her broken ankle with binding magic, and stood up. Maura, Yalen—and Jocasta, if she was still alive after vanishing to Oraff knows where—needed her. Her one and only chaperone, Mountain Spring, was already on the move as well. No time to waste mourning the dead, she supposed. They had a crocodile to contend with next.
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Event: Metropolis Final Exchanges | Location: Wánggǎng, ReTan


Maura eventually rejoined the others, her wheels carrying her alongside Kaureerah. She gently tugged on her friend's hand, a small smile playing on her lips. "You know, they might actually let us see Xiulan now. After everything that's transpired, it would be quite a relief to finally go to that tea house we've been talking about."

"Hey Kaureerah," Maura began, her voice soft and thoughtful as she looked at her friend, "you know, sometimes when people say things, it gets us thinking. Like, what if someone mentioned that, well, we're kind of exceptional in some way? Not that we are saying w agree with them or anything, but it's just got me wondering – what do you think about that?" She shrugged casually, a faint smile playing on her lips as she sought her friend's opinion.

Kaureerah smiled softly, skipping along in that distinct eeaiko way. She bounded out in front of Maura, twisted, and stopped, forcing her friend to do the same. The soft smile became a large, mischievous grin. "Why, my leetel stauwberree cauloored frend -" She reached out and patted Maura on the head. "Yoo aur e veery speciel goorl." She flicked some hair over her shoulder and twirled on a foot, settling in beside Maura once more. Her face became a touch more serious. "Yoo heve e great menny taulents," she assured her friend. "Wauns thet menny peepool woold bee jellaus auf."

Maura beamed warmly up at the Eeiako. If there was one thing she was certain about, it was her deep affection for her newfound best friend, and she eagerly anticipated the moments they would share together in the times to come.


As each student stepped up to claim a prize from the gift-laden table, tensions grew palpable. Some of the stronger students displayed a bullying attitude, not content with simply taking their share, but also snatching away from their peers. The two most prominent culprits in this were Ingrid and Jocasta.

Kaureerah, who had been deprived of her share, initially seemed poised to approach and voice her protest. However, in a swift change of direction, she abruptly turned on her heel and walked away as Jocasta pilfered from her portion.

"It is as if those with power crave more, their greed runs through their veins like blood as they are nothing more than petty thieves who crave trinkets useless to them, as only to deprive others." She reached for Kaureerah's hand and squeezed on it. "Now there is someone we would love to see Lady Matsuhara'd one day."

Kaureerah blinked, somewhat nonplussed. Such venom. She'd always assumed that Maura was quite rich, especially since she was from a merchant family and was close friends with Ayla. It seemed something of a case of judging from a glass house. Yet, she couldn't disagree that Jocasta was just... mean. Sure, Kaureerah had taken a second item. She was poor, had always been poor, and would not apologize for trying to get her hands on an unwanted thing valuable enough to free her from her financial dependence upon others. Jocasta was clearly rich as well, and had shamelessly ripped it from her hands to add to a growing collection. Turning somewhat pensive as Ingrid and Valerian clashed verbally on centre stage, Kaureerah's only response was to smile and nod appreciatively as she let out a supportive snort of laughter.

Maura couldn't read minds, but she could sense that her friend was deeply upset by what had transpired. Nevertheless, she stood by her, fully aware that there was little she could do in the face of a figure like Jocasta.


The Twin Emperors were not unaware of the conflict between Niallus and Abdel. Much as it was more distant than its abortive counterpart between Ingrid and Valerian, it was also much more of an actual fight. Both, in any event, concluded at around the same time. It was Ten-Jiu who rose, his voice loud and conspicuous. "But brother, we have had two contests! Both have concluded around the same time. Who is more deserving of the reward we have offered for a demonstration of true strength?"

Ten-Re rose as well, and turned to him, seeming to consider. "Were both truly shows of strength?" he proposed, and it was the scoundrel's turn to think. "Well... one had a great deal more action," he admitted, and Ten-Re nodded. This was intentional theatre, and they did not try to hide that fact. "Are all contests measures of physical strength?" he questioned pointedly. "And is physical strength the only method of emerging victorious in one?"

Ten-Jiu nodded at his brother's wise words. "Then... perhaps we should honour one of these other types of contests?" The sage smiled. "I believe that all should have a chance to be honoured." He cast his gaze out across the students and their closest peers. "What do you think?"

Ten-Jiu was enthusiastic now. "We could hold a vote!" he proclaimed, twisting and bending over to grab the chest. "All should have a say in the disbursement of such value," Ten-Re agreed. "Thus, we put this to you: who deserves the contents of this chest. Is it Abdel, is it Ingrid, or is is another?"

It was natural for Maura on who she would pick, she squeezed on Kaureerah’s hand as she spoke. “"We vote for Kaureerah. She conquered her fears and faced someone who had previously defeated her, all in the pursuit of doing what's right. Her strength of character and unwavering integrity shine through. She embodies the true essence of strength, always striving to do what's right and pushing herself beyond her limits."

Kaureerah seemed to consider. There were definitely party lines here, and she knew which she would be expected to adhere to, but Abdel had already snatched up multiple items for himself. Ingrid had also been a bully, every bit as much as Jocasta, whose greed... well, in some ways, she understood enough about the two tethered and where they'd come from to understand why they were so eager to snatch everything. Then, Abdel spoke and voted for... her. Kaureerah stood there, nonplussed, but pleasantly surprised. "I..." Before she could speak, Maura voted for her as well, and warmth rose in her cheeks. Friendship had always been something she craved, but trust did not come easily. She swallowed as even Ingrid voted for her, and then Niallus too!

"Thenk yoo, frends." There was a warm feeling inside of her and... what was it? She could feel a pressure building in her sinuses. She sniffed and... oh Ipte she was going to cry! She pressed her hands to her heart. "Eye... eye woould voote faur aull oof yoo eef eye coould, baut eye cennaut." She bowed deeply. "Baut eye voote fer Yaelen, whoo ees a men auf hees werd." He had voted for her too, and she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, blinking away tears. You weak girl! You don't cry! The rebuke came not in her own voice. You show them you're strong by acting like it! She dismissed it, though, for Kaureerah now had the strength to. She was now among... friends.

Jocasta was next, however. She nodded in agreement. "Kaureerah has shown commendable strength, and growth." She flashed a smile the eeaiko's way. "However, she is not the only one who has, and I believe that there are others who also deserve recognition. I, too, vote for Yalen."

Maura simply had a smirk after Jocasta's comment where she found an excuse to vote for her husband, then smiling sweetly as if it was never there. Maura silently judges the people not voting for Kaureerah by playing favourites.

The pair locked eyes as the pair had a mental duel between them.


Ten-Re raised an eyebrow. Ten-Jiu grinned. They looked at each other and then at Trypano. The latter looked as if he was about to burst out laughing. The former was serious-faced. He nodded slowly, sagely, even. "Our hearts of stone have been swayed by your wise words." He bowed before them. Ten-Jiu followed suit. "This is not a democracy, after all," he admitted, "and a better option has revealed itself: it is the people of ReTan who have shown the greatest strength over the past week, and it is those same people who will need it in the coming months."

Maura squeezed on Kaureerah's hand three times. It may have not been a democracy, but the real gift was not in the box, but it was how Kaureerah was appreciated by others, something that some trinket can never equal to. Even if some didn't understand that. She has very happy for friend and told her as much.

Ten-Jiu crossed his arms, seeming to consider. "The reward that will go to the people of ReTan," he replied. "Who can say?" He shook his head. "Certainly none of you."

Ten-Re watched what was unfolding with great interest. This, then, was the heart of the issue and why the entire conundrum had been created. There were lessons in all things, but some more than others, perhaps.

Meanwhile, Kaureerah had retreated from the entire mess, unwilling to be used as a bargaining chip by anyone else. It had been nice to have people stand up for her. She hadn't expected much from it. The powerful always ignored or trampled those below them. That was simply the way of things, and it wouldn't stop her from trying anyhow. She took out her lute after some time and took a few experimental strums.

Maura retreated with Kaureerah, their work had been completed and time to have departed and rest has been far exceeded, encouraging others to follow her example. She had performed all the perfunctory bows during the bickering. She had already seen through the ploy and knew this lesson, but she had her own learning to consolidate even if she knew without her leadership and guidance, the collective wisdom of the group suffered significantly for it.

Ten-Re shook his head and, with that, he opened the box just a sliver. "I said that this would be a reward fit for your demonstration of strength, correct?"

"It has been vague, as you put it," Ten-Re responded, "so that you might teach my lesson for me."

"He is incurably lazy," Ten-Jiu jested.

He opened the box all of the way and there was... nothing in it. "When it comes to strength," he declared, "this is what you've earned." The emperor shook his head. "Consider yourselves fortunate, this day, that we are not your enemies and have no desire to be, for the lesson is this: No man is an island. No man is an army. Strength comes from sticking together and not allowing your enemies to pry you apart and weaken you, from not allowing their words and promises to sway you."

"They will exploit any crack," confirmed Ten-Jiu, "any weakness in the wall that you must be: a bulwark for peace, security, and decency."

"Your decisions are important, there is no doubt," the sage added, "But perhaps even more important is that you make them together, with each other's counsel."

"Consider your strength when you stood together against the Titan - what you were able to achieve."

"Consider the acrimony that a simple offer of riches has wrought among you in mere minutes now - such that you are willing to kill over it."

"Our enemies are ancient, evil, and canny. This one we fought was but a construct: a thing of great strength and little intelligence, but its controllers are far greater and infinitely devious." Ten-Jiu shook his head, completely serious. "The coming battles will not be fought with strength of muscle or magic alone," concluded his brother. Both bowed, lowly and reverently. "This is our warning for you, and we pray that it is heeded." With that, they retired.

Even if not voiced, Maura was inwardly bemused at the more literal offering, as the Emperors proudly state they provide the people of ReTan: nothing. Even if that was not their intention. However, she knew going forward she had to focus on herself. She knew she had to become better, there were expectations, and people counted on her now.

To save further second-hand embarrassment, she politely spoke for the attention of Jocasta. "Tan-Zeno Re, we are all exhausted from today's events. Can you please facilitate transportation, so we may retire to our beds?" She smiled sweetly toward their chaperone.

The Twin Emperors had retired, and now the floor was left to an increasingly anxious and despondent group. How easily the adrenaline, the fear, the thrill, the triumph of their victory against a possible Marhazannet had given way to exhaustion, despondency, and infighting. The twins' lesson had been lost on most as they turned inward, caring only about themselves - their personal worth or contributions, their vendettas, their guilt, their moral superiority.


If Ten-Re had summoned Xiuyang, then Ten-Jiu summoned one of his Black Guard: Stormcloud, and it was her honour-bound duty to follow. Golden Monkey and Evil Eye hung around, the former smug, the latter pensive. Mountain Spring had wandered off, and both Smoking Bandit and Chicken had disappeared. Cold Soup was dead. So was Sleeping Carp, and Lucky Dragon had not left the palace. That left Laughing Squid: a tall and regal robed figure of infinite wisdom and malevolence but the absolute inverse in terms of reverence. He stood with his hands clasped before him.

"Does not there remain one last opportunity?" he interjected, unclasping his hands. They could see no face beneath the many-tentacled mask, but his voice was vast and languid and stentorian. "Or perhaps one final danger." The box that had contained nothing remained, left behind on the table, perhaps too ignominious a thing to be claimed. That was not where he was gesturing, however. Instead, his hands took in the figurines that the group had been collecting over the course of their stay in ReTan. "Regardless, you have been ever the gamblers, and would it not be nice to end on a... high note?"

Maura brought out the figures she possessed, Sleeping Carp and Golden Monkey. A stray thought wondered if they were now worth more following a passing of their number.

One by one, they started to hand their figures over, but a couple did not have any and were, in any case, pointedly disinterested. For them, Jocasta relented and there was a flash of power as she concentrated. Spacetime unthreaded itself, centring on one particular spot, and a vision of Ersand'Enise appeared through it.

The ten figures stood there, in their handmade poses on the small table. Then, as if they were tiny people, they all reached out, joined hands, and closed their eyes. The plum tree that had existed upon the island had been destroyed in the great conflict of a few hours earlier. Yet, as they watched, ten new sprouts grew in its place. They did not, however, grow particularly tall. The tree trunks twisted and twined, thick and gnarled and, as their leaves spread and took in the morning's light, a gentle breeze swept across the reborn gardens. Before the youths and their Black Guard allies stood ten living statues: a grove of sacred trees.


Maura attended both the ReTannese classes and the extra circular Angic philosophy class, so the concept made a lot of sense to her. In some ways, she was curious on how they responded to her, she knew she was unbalanced in a lot of ways, so having their truth can be rewarding feedback in itself. She approached the tree of Community and Individualism, the seventh tree.

As Maura approached, she saw, paradoxically, two plants before her, fitting two natures. However, as she drew nearer, a handful of the twined stalks began to grow stronger and thicker while others withered. Those could not support it without their peers, and the collective began to collapse. A second one, however, brilliant and individual, burned largest and brightest in her eyes.

Maura frowned a little at the result, as she moved to inspect the tree of Truthfulness & Obfuscation, the sixth tree.

The tree stood there for a moment, two of its natures clearly visible - a duality in the most ready sense. Then, a face appeared within its bark. "Answer me this, Maura Mercador," it said, wooden lips parting, "Are you honest or are you a liar?"

As she contemplated the question, she found herself reminded of a children's rhyme about a pair of twins. Yet, she steered clear of adopting someone else's truth, for that wasn't her own. Through this process, she arrived at a response that resonated with her essence: "Nothing is true."

"A very good lie," it replied, "But also, perhaps, a truth?" It smiled. "Please, eat of my fruit."

Maura takes both of the fruit, and ate of them. She certainly had her own truth, as she cast shade on the seventh tree.

The apple was delicious. Maura found herself taking a second bite, and a third.

Maura will now receive advantage on all perception rolls. Enemies will roll with disadvantage against her for stealth or if trying to lie.

Then, with some hesitation, she bit into the other fruit, and it tasted like... well, whatever she thought of! She considered apple sauce, and then marshmallows, and then cinnamon! Wondrous!

All opponents will now roll disadvantage on perception rolls against Maura. She will roll with advantage when lying against NPCs.

"That seventh tree has some very beautiful pea pods, does anyone else see that?" Maura tested her ability as she questioned the others.

Kaureerah tilted her head to the side. "Yees, Eye heve nooteeced." She hesitated. Then, she began to walk that way.

Maura smiled widely toward Kaureerah. "Yes, it fits you well. We are like two peas in a pod."

Rikard finally goes for the disgusting-looking fruit, palming it. However, Jocasta is there. "Are you sure you want to eat that, Rikard?" her eyes were concerned. "It doesn't look too healthy."

For a moment, Rikard felt her awesome power, and he started to shrink back. Then, however, he straightened. "Nah, I think I'm good." He tossed it into his mouth in one fell swoop

Jocasta glared at him. Rikard swallowed... the fruit. He grinned. "It's not bad. I think it was safe after all." Jocasta smiled tightly, and then impishly. "You little shit..." She twisted to leave. "Well done."

Maura regarded Rikard, "You should get the bravery fruit for free for that act alone.".

Kaureerah, meanwhile, walked up the intertwining pea plants. There, she perceived both six communally supportive stalks and one fabulous one rising up the middle. She brushed her fingers over the pods.

Gently, Kaureerah plucked a pod from each. She opened the first one, with its bright colours, and then popped the pea into her mouth. Then, she opened the regular pea pod and inspected it. There were five peas inside and she thought that it might be nice if she shared. She cast about for four other people who she liked and who might want some.

Maura smiled sweetly toward Kaureerah.

Kaureerah smiled back and skipped over. "Waunt saum?" She waved Abdel over as well. "Yoo too?" She regarded the skuggvar and blinked. "Cen shee heve saum too?"

She thanked Kaureerah, "Sure, we would love to share with you." Maura opened her mouth toward her.

"Catch!" She tossed the pea into Maura's waiting mouth. It was a cute gesture, but the Torragonese flubbed it. It bounced off of her cheek and started to fall. Her hands flailed to catch it and, fortunately, she was able to after a few bobbles.

Maura blushed red as she finally caught and ate it. "Perhaps next time you might need to drop it in."

Kaureerah blushed and made a pouty sorry face.

Maura shook her head, it wasn't Kaureerah's fault, it was her own, she returned her a reassuring smile.

Kaureerah popped the pea into her mouth and it seemed to grow warm. The others would've felt more or less the same sensation.

As long as they are allied and within twenty yards of each other, Kaureerah has gained the ability to share a single pool of mana with any of the five: Dayanara, Qadira, Maura, Ingrid, and Niallus. They may also combination cast with each other so long as she is among them.

With everyone having taken of the sacred grove, one final matter remained. Jocasta began to gather energy for a sustained portal to the other side of the world. "If you have any goodbyes to say," she announced, "now's the time." For herself, there were none.

Maura and Kaureerah, meanwhile, had separated themselves from the grove by this juncture and were deep in conversation with Yawen and Xiulan. It was difficult to overhear what was being said, but there were plenty of nods, reassurances, and then a series of hugs and some tears.


For those able to hear their interactions, Maura was presently speaking to Kaureerah. Gently pulling on her friend's hand, she discreetly indicated Xiulan's presence. "She looks truly exquisite and dignified in that attire. Shall we approach and greet Xiulan and Yawen?"

With an encouraging smile, Maura urged Kaureerah to join her as they made their way toward Xiulan and Yawen. Taking a deep breath, she allowed a gentle smile to grace her features, striving to convey empathy and support through her eyes. Her words were chosen with great care as she began to speak softly and genuinely.

"Xiulan, it is truly heart-warming to see you once more," she began, addressing both Xiulan and Yawen, her tone sincere. "In the midst of these ever-changing circumstances, we want you to know that our friendship remains a steadfast beacon for me. Regardless of the roles we are called to play, the bond we share holds immense value in my heart."

Xiulan gave Maura her full attention. "You and your friends had changed my life." She smiled back, though there was a slight sadness in her eyes now. "We had many good times."

Maura's gaze remained kind and unwavering as she continued, "You know, when the appropriate time comes for a state visit, we would be honoured to personally guide both of you through the transformed Longwan Island. It would be my joy to showcase the progress we have achieved."

Xiulan pulled her close. "I would very much wish to go there," she replied, her embrace tight and trembling. She went for Kaureerah next, and the songstress stiffened momentarily as something was whispered. Yawen, in a wide-brimmed hat, let her gaze bounce between the other three. She shook her head tightly.

Maura wanted to offer her a token, a keepsake of sorts. While she acknowledged that there would be more suitable opportunities in the future, she sifted through her belongings and her fingers came across a book. She skimmed over the guidebook to creating Torragonese beverages. While it wasn't the most perfect gift, it certainly was distinctive in this region. She presented it to her, her hopes resting on the sentiment behind the gesture outweighing any monetary value. "Maybe this could assist you in getting ready for your visit. Do make an effort to try each recipe."

Xiulan looked at her, a half-step short of incredulous for a moment, and then let out a soft, warm chuckle. She shook her head ruefully. "It is a perfect gift to me, I sink," she admitted. "I will to read it and treasuring it all."

Kaureerah, for her part, produced a small, glowing yellow mushroom pendant. "Thees ees faur yoo." She pressed it into Xiulan's palm. She produced a second, then, and it glowed red. This, she handed to Maura. Finally, she revealed a third - in blue - for herself. She leaned in as she handed it over and whispered. "Eye doon't cere eef hee ees en elder senguinaire." She grinned mischievously. "Eye'll caut hees baulls auff eef hee's meen too yoo." Then, she drew back.




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Present: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren, Oksana @Ti, Yuliya @Suicharte, Marz @Th3King0fChaos, Yvain @jasbraq, Roslyn @Fallenreaper, Khaliun @YummyYummy, Sven, and Penny


F O R T P E R E K R E S T O K ||

It started with more disagreement. Everyone had their ideas and not all could be followed. The urgency built. The seconds ticked away. Agents of the Dieci Volti Nascosti closed in on the epicentre of the anti-magic disruption.

The students of Ersand’Enise split into two teams and evaded the legendary assassins for as long as they could, remaining within the bubble of safety where they could use their Gifts, scouring the city for the magic disruptors.

Then, they split.

Yuliya, Marz, Sven, Khaliun, and the latter’s mercenary ronin, Sugawara Yoshinori, headed straight for Fort Perekrestok at the confluence of the Kuska and Belykuska rivers. Yvain, Roslyn, Penny, Esmii, Oksana, and the remaining mercenary, Fritz Rudolf von Weigenen, went to investigate a warehouse they had already identified as suspicious some days earlier.

The latter group met with failure and made to cross the river instead, with the aid of magic, before the teams were too far apart. Oksana’s bridge of ice proved sturdy enough to resist the mighty river’s flow just long enough for most to cross, but Penny found herself stranded on the other side with a mild concussion after slipping and no way across.

Time was everything, and they could feel it eating away at their chances of recovering what they knew to be weapons of terror hidden throughout this remote Vossoriyan town, so they left her and carried on. It wasn’t long before they found themselves shadowed by nearly a dozen more shadowy operatives, and it was only Roslyn’s quick thinking that saved them from having to fight for their lives against odds that no gambler would’ve taken. A canny use of a smoke cannon, a feint attack, and some arcane magic threw their pursuers off and they raced to rejoin their allies.

Those allies, however, had not been so fortunate as they, for, as they had approached the small triangular island on which the fort perched, they came upon two things. The first was indisputably an active magic disruptor, and Yuliya rushed to turn it off. The second, however, was the man in the blue mask who had tried to murder Yuliya and Yvain less than a week earlier - not merely an agent of the Dieci Volti but one of its actual members: the legendary assassin Soldato. He was not alone.

Pursued relentlessly by nearly twenty enemies, the group of youths made a desperate crossing and then turned off their anti-disruptor at the key moment when their enemy tried to follow. Four plunged into the river, one drowned, two washed far downstream. It was then that they unleashed a withering counterattack, and agents of the enemy fell before them.

It was not a massacre, however. For all that the enemy bled, so did the students, now surrounded, now hemmed in. Yuliya had found the crate containing the magic disruptor and a hundred more of its kind - dormant - and she made a desperate play, with her nascent temporal magic, to teleport the entire thing back to the royal palace in Karamevo.

It was Soldato, though - the Blue Volto - who they could not best, however. His shot struck her and the girl’s concentration was broken, the contents of the splintered box scattered across the still-melting snows on the tundra some mile or so outside of town. One by one, she and her allies fell, gasping for breath, mortally wounded, perforated by his deadly accurate fire. Azure Devil - rifle of the magusjaeger volto - sung its deadly song and, for all that they were able to lay low the lesser members of the attacking cabal, they could not touch him.

Then, they beheld Penny’s fate. Their abandoned comrade had dived into the warehouse they had visited earlier and there found a similar crate of magic disruptors. While she had shut the active one off, the act had come at great cost. Waylaid by another Volto - the lilac Coccinella - she had been brutalized to the edge of death, as had many of them. Yet, the enemy never killed. They never seemed to seek unnecessary bloodshed. Again and again, they entreated the foreign youths to stop fighting and let them have what they had come for. Most of these attempts fell upon deaf ears.

Coccinella hovered in the air before the youths, however - not a human, but half-transformed beast: a thresher of some sort, with Penny impaled on one of her claws. She tossed the limp figure aside, and how the others ran for it! How they wasted their time rescuing, healing, and fretting over their friend. It was Sven who suffered next, pierced by Soldato’s bullets. He dropped to the ground, seemingly at the door of death.

They could feel it coming, too: the final remaining Volto, and his power was massive even from a distance. Then, the Eskandishman revived, seemingly out of nowhere, and his rage was something to behold. Gone was the meek, polite, academic Sven Bjørnsson that they knew best. With a bestial fury that they’d gained only glimpses of before, he tore through the Volti agents, making his way towards the Blue Volto. Even Soldato was laid low before the fury of the Southman.

Yet, he was not defeated. Sven was. Coccinella made quick work of him and left the Eskandr giant lying unconscious, right back where he’d started. It was… finished. They were surrounded. The final Volti’s forces had arrived to cut them off and the dainty little Lilac had revealed her true, monstrous power. She was one of the ten - The Originals - an ancient wildblood of unfathomable power. Against this, against Soldato, against two dozen others and the final Volto - as yet unseen - victory did not seem to be an option.

There were two factors that the enemy hadn’t counted on, however. First was the sheer, relentless spite of Yuliya Ilyanovna Vassilieva, Tsesarevna of the Vossoriyan Empire. If there was one thing that she wanted above all else at that very moment, it was to reap a terrible vengeance upon Soldato for the injury that he had caused her and her allies. The second was that she had, in her possession, a chaos marble. This, she launched toward the sniper as he perched on a rooftop across the river and there were none present who could stop it.

There are moments where it becomes clear that one’s enemy is not actually an evil being, and such was the case for Soldato. If Yuliya had not a care for what would be destroyed or how many would die from her attack, Soldato did, and he threw himself into the path of the projectile as it was still in flight over the river, knowing that he was a doomed man but hoping to prevent the death of dozens of innocents.


R A D O M I R ||


Then, the world wavered and there hovered, in the air, a man. He was tall and strongly built, with a full and well-trimmed beard and richly ornamented robes adorned with the ancient seal of the Vossoriyan Royal House. Yet, most of all, it was his face. As if carved from a block of ice, it turned to the feuding parties, even as he released the limp and broken figure of Soldato, who he had grasped, with indescribable force, by the neck. The corpse splashed into the frigid water and was gone.

Radomir, legendary protector of Vossoriya and - some claimed - its first emperor reborn, had arrived. He regarded Coccinella and the other Volti like the insects they were as he took a pair of knives from his pocket and slipped the chaos marble casually into it. His gaze was cold and unblinking. "You have five seconds to get out of my city," he commanded, "Or these are going into your necks." Immediately and reverently, Yuliya sunk to her knees before him, only a single question on her lips. "Почему ты здесь, сэр??" (Why are you here, sir?)

Radomir's cloak and ribbons flapped in the dusky breeze as the last rays of sun disappeared beneath the horizon. His icy eyes flicked away from the Volti for just a moment and took in the form of Marz well below him. "This boy -" He narrowed them. "has my hammer."

Then, however, he judged that about five seconds had passed, and it was time for these Revidian criminals to learn why they should never have come to Vossoriya. First was the illusionist who Yvain had been speaking with. She exploded upon contact, chunks of flesh, shards of bone, and ribbons of skin raining down across the small courtyard. A second was cleanly decapitated by the elder sanguinaire's hand, his head hitting the ground with a meaty 'conk'. So sudden and terrible was the violence that the Volti were slow to respond. A third and fourth were roasted alive where they stood by the sanguinaire elder's mere gaze.

He came for the next one on his hitlist, eyes wide and burning with ravenous bloodlust, only for his unstoppable force to be met by an immovable object. Coccinella was zipping and whirling above, but Radomir had run headlong into something massive, like a bird hitting a window. He rebounded and reeled, shaking his head to clear it. In his path stood a mountain of a man, his wild, bristly beard poking out from beneath a yellow mask with a smiling face, his gigantic arm steaming where Radomir had impacted, and his great gut protruding before him. He straightened. "Bad idea coming alone, kompis." He shook his head. "Imagine that: living a thousand years, founding a dynasty, becoming a legend, just to die here to some fat guy." From behind the mask came the high, unsettling sound of the man's laughter, tinged with hints of madness. He seemed endlessly amused by his own taunt, giddy and eager.

Radomir's face remained stoic as he, too, straightened. "Who says I came alone?" he asked, and a half-dozen oprichnina of the Zavesa Imperii (Veil of the Empire) materialized around the courtyard. A tall, pale woman was among them, standing beside Yuliya, and the girl might have recognized her from the portraits handing within the family palace: her own great grandmother, Ekaterina. There was a distinct resemblance between the two. She leaned in and whispered something in her younger descendant's ear before drawing back. Her peers were already starting to engage the Volti in battle and, just then, Radomir lashed out once again at the colossus that some may have recognized as Il Sorriso (The Smiler) or Volto Giallo. This time, he had the Chaos Marble clearly in hand and was aiming to use it.

The oprichnina turned to the students. "My friends, you have helped us much, and your service will be rewarded. I ask one more thing." She gestured broadly, taking in the rest of the city. "There are two more crates like this one. If this terrorists retrieve them, our country - and many others - will burn." She glanced up above as Volto Lilla went hurtling through a wall with one of her fellow high sanguinaires in her clutches - not that anyone aside from Yuliya and perhaps Penny could've known what they were. "I know where two of these are. Me and another officer will go with you."

Then, the junior Volto was there: an insectile being with few human features remaining. "I say to you, once again, that the greater evil would be to let these devices fall into the hands of Vossoriya," she buzzed. "You are only our enemies so long as you fight us." The monster leveled an arm at Yuliya, "Except for -" A half-dozen skewers shot up from the ground, furrowing the wildblood's carapace and forcing her to dodge aside. "Run!" shouted their guide. "For the warehouse where you first found them! I will follow after I deal with this menace!"


I N T H E B A L A N C E ||


There was, indeed, a menace, but what form it took was very much a matter of opinion. Even as magic returned to Kirimansk and its people began to rejoice and clean away, in earnest, the debris of these two weeks of calamity, others fled the growing conflagration at Fort Perekrestok and agents of the Dieci Volti Nascosti swarmed about, hard at work. They had claimed the crate full of disruptors that Penny had fought for and lost. They had come upon the second crate as well, out to the east, and stolen it. Even now, they were seeking the chaos marbles hidden beneath the town in its sacred caves and searching the sparse taiga forest to the north beyond for the precious devices that Yuliya had spilled there. Time was, once again, wasting, and much hung in the balance.


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