Vertigo

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (4), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Construction (4)

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1000

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 784

That's right, bitch, Ciri thought, a wicked smile on her lips, as the dragon man's startled screams carried to her ears from somewhere within the building. Shouldn't have run.

The audible panic made for a nice little background track to her climbing effort, and she really needed the mood boost, since her share of the chase wasn't going so well. There hadn't been any reasonable way to enter the hallway directly, so she'd really had to take a detour through someone's room. And she hadn't even needed to break shit to do it; someone'd just left their window open! Worse, that someone was...

"At least take a fucking shower once in your life, the water's free!" she shouted over her shoulder at the weird nerd kid, made involuntary eye contact with the oni in the poster, and felt the sudden urge to take a shower herself. Ugh.

It would have to wait, she had a job to do, and it looked like she arrived just in time to do it. The dragon man was nowhere in sight, and the fact that her partner hadn't communicated otherwise meant his trajectory hadn't changed. The pissbaby was going to be running straight to her arms in no time. All she needed now was a little magic to help her and her friend hide.

A door to her right opened, and Ciri glanced over, half expecting another weeaboo. What she got was arguably worse. Someone decked out in what looked like cheap cosplay gear of a nuclear wasteland desperado, or something. They even had their name spray painted on! Talk about lame. And even with a literal name right there, their misplaced attitude begged the question of—

"... Who the fuck are you?" Someone who knew who she worked for, so probably a freelancer. They got all sorts in that little circus. With a quirked brow, Ciri hoped off her gorilla, nodding at it to go find a hiding spot — even if that meant tearing apart a door to do it, then turned back to 'Viper' like it would've taken her tremendous effort to do so. Her tone was more bored than threatening, but not a single part of her suggested she was joking, either. "Bitch, you don't even have your getup under control. Now move, or we'll move you, and then the whole world won't have enough tape to put your sorry-ass gear back together."

She glanced towards the stairs. She asked for an "ETA?" from her partner, one hand impatiently on her hip.

As for the freakshow to her right, she'd give them one chance to bail. Hopefully, they knew what was good for them better than the dragon had.

Rerun: Blackguards!

Was waiting for a few more posts after my last one, but can get something up soon.

SPIRITUM

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Staring at the sky like a woman possessed did pay off in the end. Had Silje blinked even once, she might've missed it; another flash, another round from the ship. She had no time for theatrics or cool poses, pity as it was, as it took all the speed and mist she could muster to meet the missile mid-air and deflect it. Instead of blowing her and all her friends to smithereens, the explosion, detonating a little to their right, only pelted them in debris and deathly shrapnel, so losing out on looking cool was kind of worth it, though.

Then came the lightning. Still blinded and left reeling from the previous blast, she wouldn't have even noticed them, had it not been for Justice. She deflected a bolt headed straight at them, and it was the shimmer of her mist in Silje's peripheral vision that eventually drew her attention.

That's when she saw them; more lights, more bolts of lightning. Deflecting them was easier than dealing with the ship, though it still left her no time to pose. She couldn't even stand up; even when tethered to the truck, their speed was immense and swerving so frantic she kept being tossed around like a ragdoll. And not the fluffy, feline kind. It was disorienting and nauseating, and only very slightly cool.

She held on, eventually closing her eyes as branches threatened to poke her blind. They were in a forest, which was good as far as cover went, but also bad, because now she couldn't see their—

... Huh.

As Silje finally freed herself from the assault of broken off branches, sticks and leaves, she realized the glowing eyes of their pursuers were... turning around? So was the ship, except it had to do the whole creepy whale wail thing one more time before it left. Silje couldn't take it anymore, her head threatening to burst from the sound and the pain it wrought. With a groan, she leaned over the edge and retched.

By the time she was done, she noticed the quiet. There were no sounds but their own and the forest's; like they were just ordinary people on an ordinary road trip once more. Except Val was probably actively dying still, and they had a princess in the back.

As if on cue, they slowed to little more than a crawl. The faint, purple hue of the truck dissipated, and Silje instantly flung her head down over the side once more, this time to check on her friend — who was hanging halfway out the car and expelling her guts. Or if not guts, everything else. There was a lot of blood.

Concern knitting her brows, Silje leaned further down. "Val-pal?" she reached a hand to try and gently pet her hair, tethered to the roof only by her knees now. "You look really awful. But in... an admirable way. Like 'I possessed a truck and lived' sort of way. And that means you actually can't die, because then you would look awful in an 'I possessed a truck and died' sort of way. And that's different."

She said it with purpose and finality, as if that knowledge alone would help save her friend.

But just in case it didn't, Morden came in to help, too. There wasn't a lot of space for so many people, so with a final, encouraging pat of Val's head, Silje retreated back to her spot on the roof. She'd long-since been forbidden from taking part in attempts at first aid. So, instead, upon hearing they got service, she pulled out her phone out of reflex.

"Sooo," she drawled out loud, scrolling to check whether anything that happened was already on the news, her legs swinging over the edge all the while. "That could've gone worse."

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

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The first emotion Fellwing felt upon spotting Skobeloff was confusion, followed by awkward self-consciousness, and then relief; Skobe was clever, maybe he could get her out of the figurative hole she'd dug herself in? She never did excel at conversation or socializing, but he seemed to have a very, very peculiar knack for it.

But as Skobeloff approached, it wasn't difficult for a Seer accustomed to her friend's shenanigans to realize he was up to something. And, just like that, her 'oh yes, he's clever' turned into an 'oh no, he's clever.'

He went off about spiders in the mines or some such nonsense, and Fellwing could do little but watch in horrified amazement as Garrock took the bait and excused himself, leaving behind a roomful of flabbergasted dragons in his wake.

Upon hearing Skobeloff's evil(?!) laugh, Fellwing turned to the Trickster to ask what in the world he was planning, only to find him gone, too.

Ever so slowly, even at the risk of regretting it later, Fellwing excused herself and slipped after Garrock. If her instincts were right, the old dragon wouldn't get to be alone for long, anyhow.

Expedition to Isekai

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Oh man.

Their expedition hadn't even started yet, and they'd already failed to stick to the plan. If there ever even was a plan; Duncan was honestly not so sure anymore. All he knew was that with the local crazy chick in tow, all bets were off. She was just as likely to stab them in the back, figuratively or not, as she was to summon a portal back to the real world out of nowhere, or bond with whatever otherworldly creature they were about to run into in the mountains.

For now, all Duncan could do to preserve his sanity was to ignore Ayana the best he could. A job much easier said than done, but at least he'd gotten some practice in doing the same to Hiroshi over the past year. Arguably, Hiroshi was even worse; that piece of shit did hold some actual power over him, after all.

Duncan quickly ignored that thought, too.

What he couldn't ignore was the strange smell permeating the air. During their painfully slow pace, Duncan had grown hyper aware of the forest around them, noting every change in elevation, atmosphere and foliage hue in a manner very uncharacteristic of him. It's what happened when you were desperate for a distraction and had to basically tiptoe forward so you wouldn't lose the two slow-asses behind you.

But this smell? He would've noticed even without trying. It was sickly sweet and overwhelming. And, even failing that, he would've definitely noticed the fog.

Duncan came to a gradual stop a few inches from it, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in suspicion. Yeah, no way in hell was he walking in there first, especially when they had a perfectly crazy classmate to do it in his stead.

"Alright," he called out to the two others a few steps behind him, not bothering to turn around as he gestured at the fog. "Which one of you farted?"

Rerun: Blackguards!

<Snipped quote by Vertigo>

Sariel will happily oblige. :3

@Abstract Proxy

Did-- autocorrect happen to get you for a second or are my eyes messed up, could have sworn that said Daniel for a second lmao

Either way, great 👀

Rerun: Blackguards!

Wraith was very much intending to kill him, yeah. But I mean, just 'cause he's dead doesn't mean we can't still talk to/interrogate/bully him; we do have a necromancer, after all. B)

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (4), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Construction (4)

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1000

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 784

Man, the briefing wasn't kidding. This guy really was a wuss.

Ciri was already annoyed by the flighty lizard before he turned around and busted through a solid wall; being left in both literal and figurative dust in her target's wake made her furious. That's what she got for trying to be nice? And after she'd come up with such a punny greeting, too! Seriously, the hell, some people had no tact.

Cursing under her breath, Ciri wiped dust and debris from her face and hair, narrowed eyes scanning for the escaped target with a frustrated desperation. If she failed her first mission in a while, she was never going to hear the fucking end of it — and she was not about to be assigned more fucking paperwork. So where was that piss-coloured lizardfac—

There. Getting to his feet and making for a staircase leading upstairs. Probably trying to get to the roof so he could transform and fly away. Or maybe not. Who knew what went on in his head, if anything. But whatever he was planning to do, she was going to foil it.

With a flick of her wrist, she guided her gorilla to the outer wall of the building and hopped onto its shoulders, wordlessly commanding it to scale up the side of the hotel. She had no doubt it was faster than a panicked dragon stumbling up some stairs, and could probably overtake the guy. Then all she needed was any kind of entrance; a window, an emergency exit, anything to bust in through and tackle the dragon to the ground. Hell, they'd break through a window to one of the guest rooms if they had to. Give the rich fucks inside something to cry about while at it. She could always just phase through the wall, too, but she preferred to conserve her mana for now. She'd need it to pummel her quarry.

As for It, stirring, impatient, she nodded towards the hole left in the wall. Someone had to make sure the dragon didn't just turn around or slip out of their sight into one of the rooms while they were climbing. They needed someone on its tail. They needed a hound.

She thought her instructions more than said them, connected to her partner beyond language. But the idea could very well be summed up as: "Fetch."

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

Fellwing will probably stalk after Garrock, her Skobe scheming senses are tingling.

And by tingling I mean blaring red alarms.

Rerun: Blackguards!

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The living corpse among them — or one of the two, anyhow, there was also a man with half a face missing — didn't seem to take kindly to Wraith's words. The halfling watched, amused, as the woman fixed him with a glare and a gesture often used to belittle his kind. With a small smile, Wraith formed a heart with his own hands in turn; a gesture he was sure no one had given her before.

Somewhere far away, he could make out the stampede of dozens of feet and hooves, nearing. Wraith was just about to turn his gaze away from the ghastly woman, when she stole back his attention — by screaming. It was an unholy, blood curdling, bone shattering wail. Wraith hunched, holding his ears. By all the gods holy and not, if he'd known she'd react like this, he would've held back on the gesturing!

... Kidding. He knew what her goal was, and knew she'd succeeded even without looking up to see what'd come of the incoming barbarians. Even one of their own fainted, and Wraith contemplated, for a stray moment, picking his pockets clean for it. It would've been an opportune time, and he doubted he would've been caught besides; after all, half their group was quickly turning out to be just as barbaric as the horde charging them.

Not all of them, though. The giant, of all people, attempted to hold the others back for what Wraith assumed was a negotiation, and then there was—

Wraith's eyes narrowed as he trailed an elf with strikingly blue eyes. She kept her distance and, with a little magic, alerted them of a party of Sulfreyan riders. Something about her, about the grimoire she held so close, reminded Wraith of the wizards of his past. He felt an urge, sudden and burning, to put a dagger through that tome.

... But for now, the tome called forth lightning, and the lightning burned to crisp their enemies, so he stayed his hand. He had to admit, much to his chagrin, that in a situation that called for mass destruction, magic was quite useful after all. Wraith himself was never a tool to be used on the masses; he couldn't stop a raging horde with a scream, or a chain of magical words. What he excelled at was the complete opposite of the situation they found themselves in now; picking a target, one target, and striking once.

He looked back to the skies.

Sulfreyans weren't fueled by bloodlust and hunger like barbarians. They were an organized lot, with a leader to command them. Underneath his cloak, Wraith gripped his dagger, searching for a leader somewhere in the sky, past the wall of fire and among the storm. If he were to spot someone fitting that description, he'd let loose his dagger — and it would find its target, he knew, before returning to him.

Or, if his trigger-happy companions killed everyone before he could, well, he supposed that'd work, too.

Either way, he took a few steps away from the group and disappeared from sight, lest someone on the opposing side get the bright idea to drop magic on their tightly grouped lot.