Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by KillamriX88
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KillamriX88 Cheese Lover / Professional Cat Cuddler

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Rurik Alexeev





Rurik began to come back reality as Clara and the others were freed from the burning trap above them.

"Cool, so we're leaving now then?" he pushed himself back to his feet. However, the look Clara gave him told him that they wouldn't be taking the fast way, at least not in front of witnesses. He just shrugged and began looking for the way out of the floor they were on, hoping that the door wasn't buried.

"Hey!" He was stopped before he got far as Cassius intercepted him.

"Look, we worked together once, that doesn't make us friends." Rurik sighed, trying to brush the kid off.

"That's not it!" Cassius insisted, grabbing Rurik's shoulder. Rurik stared at Cassius's hand, and then lifted his gaze to meet Cassius's. Cassius got the hint and quickly let go. "I just wanted to say... you're dating my best friend's sister, so be careful OK."

"Careful?" Rurik raised an eyebrow.

"You know, watch it, all right?" Cassius crossed his arms.

"Really?" Rurik straightened up a bit so that he was now looking down at slightly shorter Cassius. "And what drove you to say all this?" To Cassius's credit, he didn't seem all that intimidated.

"Well like I said, it's my best fri-"

"No no, you told me to watch it. Watch what? What makes you think you need to say something to me?" Rurik narrowed his eyes.

"Well, you know, you're... uhh..." How to say this tactfully?

"I'm what? Come on. Out with it," he sounded quite like an adult trying to get the truth out of a guilty toddler.

"I mean, you do go to... that school..."

"So it's stereotyping then," Rurik said, causing Cassius to wince. There really hadn't been a good way to put it in the end. "I'm the bad guy, so obviously I must be planning to do awful, awful things to her." He rolled his eyes. "You know, by that logic, Christine's just as bad." And then just smirked in amusement, grabbing Cassius's face and patting him on the cheek. "Relax, we are talking about Christine after all. She can take care of herself." He let go and took a step to walk away, but then turned back to Cassius. "Oh, and while we're talking about Christine."

Suddenly Rurik's expression turned... dark, "Did you enjoy the view?"

Cassius had a brief moment of confusion before it hit him and he swallowed hard, breaking into a nervous sweat. That wasn't fair! It wasn't his fault she'd pulled up her coat! Just the memory caused him to clench his eyes shut. "N-n-n-no! I didn't-" But when he opened his eyes, Rurik was already walking away, hands casually shoved into his pockets.

"It's been real, dude. Let's do it again sometime never, huh?" And with that, Rurik finally found the doorway out. Cassius, wound up as he was, flinched badly as Rurik kicked the door clean off its hinges. "Come on Christine, we're done here!"

Cassius meanwhile took a deep breath to gather his wits. Normally he was god at it, but he just couldn't read that guy! "No wonder Kath hates him..."



Wolfram





Wolf fell into bed and shut his eyes. He didn't even bother doing more than taking his shoes, socks, and jacket off. For the moment, he even stayed atop the sheets. Within seconds he felt his head swimming as sleep clawed at him. He'd just gotten back from a plane ride, followed by multiple fights, followed by being hit by a car, followed by one more fight.

Exhaustion might no longer have been a strong enough word.

But he knew he couldn't take more than this one night to rest. It was time to go back and buckle down. He was in the middle of something serious now and he had to be ready...

. . .

. . .

Plop!

A few moments into Andras's worrying and something would have landed on her bed next to her. A phone that still glowed with life. 43% to be exact. Enough for at least 3-4 hours, depending what she used it for. It must have come from Wolf, but by the time she could have even looked up to thank him, he already looked like he'd passed out...

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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Bak and Gilliam and Naseraph


She was in there? Clara had been in the ball!? Bak felt some sort of screeching, meal on metal groan echo through her entire body as she stiffened up in sheer mortification. How had she not put that together?

Gilliam, for his part, felt his teeth involuntarily start to snap together as Alto fell from the orb and gracefully caught the floating student in his arms like a knight in shining armor. Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak went his pearly whites, loud enough for even Bak to hear. She turned and looked at him as he slapped a hand over his mouth to try and contain himself. He reached down quickly and helped pull Bak to her feet with his free hand.

Still, this was a perfect opportunity. Clara and Bak were here and, while not in the best shape, could still fight from the looks of it. St. Laural's best fighter was down, Alto had a hostage to worry about, and while he couldn't expect Rurik to lend his aid perhaps Christine, Yuuto, and even Thobias would get involved. King was here, yes, but there was no guarantee he would interfe-

"King." Came an annoyingly familiar shout from somewhere above. Indistinc, now lit only by the moonlight, three shadows stood on what remained of the roof looking down on the scene below. The one that was talking sounded like poultry.

"How do you suppose we report this?" Naseraph continued. "There's no proof we killed a greater demon here tonight. I would hate to think that we aren't going to get paid for the trouble we went through."

Like that the opportunity to take out Alto was ruined. If those three were going to be here they'd back Alto up and the math was suddenly much more even. He was about to walk away when Bak spoke up.

"You did not kill greater demon!" shouted Bak. "We killed greater demon! We got beat up! It was us mostly!"

"You didn't even want people to know you were here, how are you ever going to get the money?" Naserph replied.

"You will give us money! We already got you much money tonight, you will give us the demon money!"

"There is no money yet you mistake of creation! I am trying to establish the existence of money. Be! Silent!"

Naserph was completely done. Nothing had gone his way tonight. He drawn into battles he had no interest in. He had missed the midnight tournament. He hadn't been able to talk to the ghost boy. He hadn't even seen anything out of the big three that he couldn't see on the recordings of prior tournaments. He just wanted something, anything, to show that tonight wasn't a complete waste of his time. If that came down to money, then so be it!

He couldn't hear the click of Bak's missile pod opening up and had no idea how easy it was for her to line up a shot on him using her thermal vision. Luckily for him Gilliam had heard that and, while he did consider letting her blow that annoying vulture out of the sky, placed his arm over the ports before she could fire. He didn't know what they were talking about or how Bak had come to know these people, but starting another fight was not to their advantage. "What tak tak tak are they tak tak tak talking about?"

Bar was about to reply when Rurik found the door. That was right, she couldn't tell Gilliam here. Alto was here. He might hear the whole plan. "I will tell you later. Was good plan, I am proud of it." She said, casting one last dark look at Naseraph's hot red outline before making her way unsteady across the rubble.

Gilliam watched her go, then made his way over to Clara and bowed deeply. "My Mistress, my sincerest apologies for my performance on this mission. My long absence, while not entirely my choice, is in itself inexcusable. Please, to make up for it, allow me to escort you away from, at the very least, prying eyes. We could speak of some interesting matters I discovered concerning Master Vittorio. Did you know he was wanted by the police?"

Bak, meanwhile, stood on the precipices of a great undertaking. She considered the stairs. She thought about how long she would roll if she too a tumble from the tenth floor. She thought about the possibility of rolling over someone. Then, taking a page out of Rurik's book, she raised her voice. "Thobias!" she called out. "Escalator please."

@6slyboy6@rawkhawk64@KillamriX88@Hammerman@Bartimaeus@RoflsMazoy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by rawkhawk64
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Brutus


Brutus watched from the bunker as the Greater Demoness was taken care of with a combined effort of some students from all three groups. After the roof fell through, Brutus just watched and waited. Eventually, a single beam of light pierced through the barrier that held King and the others. As King emerged, Brutus watched in interest. That certainly had to be Alto. No matter. What mattered was the objective. Speaking of which, Nasaraph seemed to take care of it. Brutus approached King himself.

"To be fair, Nasaraph, we don't need proof that we killed it. It's dead, and that's what matters. The only concern I have is if the property damage will affect our payout. We need this money."

After Brutus said his piece, Bak spoke up. However, before he could even start sparking, Nasaraph had a short argument with her before she left. Good. Brutus didn't feel much like fighting. He was sore and aching all over.

"I say we ignore her, and go report the success of the mission. AS I said before, whether or not we killed the Demon doesn't matter. What matters is that the Demon is dead."

Yuuto


Yuuto mostly watched in silence from the ceiling as one of the St. Laurel's students finished off the Demon. Intriguing. Then, Bak and one of the Vigilantes started arguing, before Bak left. Yuuto dropped down from the ceiling, landing lightly next to her.

"Fear not, Bak-san. Void wisdom say 'Door of opportunity open when you not expect it.' All we must do is wait, like lion stalking prey. Come. For now, we must rest and recover. Big tournament is in one month. Mephisto-dono will expect us to be excelling." What he didn't say was that he would have to report to Mephisto what his daughter was up to in this building. It seemed he had a lot of work to do. As he glanced over at Bak, Yuuto lowered his mask that covered the bottom of his face. He then smiled at Bak.

"There be no succeeding without your efforts tonight, Bak-san. For that, be proud and happy. Now, let us focus on tournament."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Celestine Lightbringer


@Dezuel


Celestine dozed in the chair significantly. After dressing his wounds and changing into his pyjamas, the combination of narcotics and tiredness had finally defeated the young man, who was slumping in the kitchen's table. It was the scream who woke him up, however, and he knew fully what had transcended. He sighed, and did his best to sober up as Vittorio worked his way towards where he was.

Goodness, he was walking on his own. On, one hand that meant that his recovery was at hand. On the other, Celestine wanted to put down the stubborn fool back to rest once more. Well, he doubted he could convince him easily. His face was all scrunched up and he was demanding things instead of saluting. Not a good start.

"William? He probably is resting in his mother's bosom as we speak. That woman is quite the helicopter, you see. She was all the time meddling behind her son's scuffle gushing on how proud she was of the perp." Celestine straightened up, shuffling in his pink pyjamas with blue chicken decorations. He tilted his gaze to match Vittorio. "You're up and walking, is this the power of anger? Anyway it is good. It'll make you recover soon." He paused.

"See this? This is what I got out of the scuffle. Galbrek was leading you into a folly, and wanted to make use of that power for his own ends. So that's why I had to step in. Anger might be powerful, but clouds judgement." Celestine sighed, tired. "Nevertheless... I will not stop you from doing what you think it needs to be done." He raised from his chair. "As self-conceited as that discount Satan is, one thing he said is true. Resurrecting people is hardly a walk in the park. I know, because i've brought people back to live from the brink. It is a scarring experience. Even if the resurrection was successful, i can't even begin to imagine the impact that kind of thing will have on a mind... and that's if she is brought back fully."

He then approached a laptop, and began typing. "This so called William, we both know his type, Vittorio. He thinks everything is sunshine and rainbows. He wants to be special. He wants to be loved by anyone. And he unwittingly will lead to create more Vittorios and Celestines. Just because he is too blind in his justice that he won't see the true nature of people, or the true nature of consequences." Celestine worked deftly through the computer, typing command line after command line. A single login appeared on the screen of the computer.

>St Laurel Student Records.

"Well. Breaking into a school's records is sadly an easy task... It's not like they have a bank or a company. I've also bounced the signal all over. But here's the direction of William Ascott's home." Celestine added, yawning.

"What you do with this information... is up to you, Vittorio. Just... be sensible about it. But if you want a tip... wait until he's at his most vulnerable, you will get more leverage that way." He added, his hand then extending towards Vittorio's chin, caressing it ever so slightly.

"Other than that... I will only say. Do as thou will."

Ahh, free choice, or the illusion of it. Isn't it great, William Ascott?






Meredith stood still for a few moments, as the situation seemingly seemed to resolve itself. Indeed, a lot of people were tired and decided to grab the first bed they could. She could relate. Still, Meredith wasn't dizzy enough to not pick up Vera's kiss to Wolf, as well manhandling her own little sister to get a bed. She knew why she was doing it. She felt she had to defend against mother's provocations and shenanigans... yet inside herself, she couldn't find agreeing with her attitude. Something writhed inside, painfully and sad. Wolf was spent as well, and she didn't even dedicate a good night to her. "Goodnight then..." She added, as she trudged towards her own room, feet like lead. She wasted little time in getting out of the stupid suit, and slipping inside her bed, not bothering to put her pyjamas back on. She noticed her baby brother slept by the end of the bed, so she gently squeezed inside.

Her eyes felt watery for some reason, as she squeezed the fox plushie against her. She didn't remember she had a fox plush, but then again she was too tired to fully recognize it. It was big, for one reason. Probably the size of a young man. She let a small sob, before finally sinking into sleep.

Her dreams were fairly restless. She found herself alone in a void space. And in front of her there was a demon. Who was not a demon. It was like her... but slimmer. More enticing. More arrogant. Just like what she would have been if she had followed her mother's counselling, maybe? "Heh, you're so pathetic. The goody two shoes. And that's why you will lose the boy." She said in a sultry voice. "You crave for him... I know. Because I am you. And you should know better.". The Not-Meredith spoke, as she manifested a cowered and terrified version of Vera, before her claws slashed her throat in a rain of blood. "Yes, you crave for this, don't you? You want that Wolfie boy for yourself... He's the only one who understands you, really. So why not make use of what you have, and stop pretending what you are not, Meredith?" The voice laughed.

"Go. Away." Meredith blanched upon the sight, as she clenched her fists. She had to take control of this dream, and that much she did. The dark void cleared in a light scenery with birds, a prairy field with a picnic. Full of stuff to eat. And cute animals. And Meredith tried to rest inside that soothing dream.

"Hah, well played. But for long will you last, until that armor cracks? Do you think...people...will...still...like...you?". The voice faded, not without a further insult.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Dezuel
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Vittorio


Having made his way over to Celestine, he threw a glance to Celestine's pyjamas, furrowing his eyebrows and then looking away from it and instead set his sight directly into Celestine's eyes. His strained eyes, with dark circles around them and his pale skin almost made him seem like a hungry vampire.

"His mother... so that's the case." Vittorio said out plainly with a rough and painful voice. He knew the importance of mothers, having lost his own a couple of years back. If possible he would avoid dragging someones mother into the picture. But he had to set out to stop William.

"I am up and walking indeed... but it is not for anger, but for love." Vittorio said as a matter of fact and then set his gaze on Celine who was also present abit behind Celestine.

"Follower of Galbrek, what are you doing here? Taken her in have you?" Vittorio turned to face Celestine again.

Celine gave an indifferent shrug. "Who knows. I am not here for you, Master Vittorio."

"So you say... How long do you intend to follow the whim of the one who does not understand the preciousness of life? Such a person does not deserve your time nor tears." Celine's eyes narrowed slightly, there was something in that which did not sit well with her at all. But she knew better than to question people whose powers far exceeded her own, which both of these individuals did.

They could however possibly aid her on obtaining freedom, if nothing else a way back to Galbrek's side. As much as the latter choice made her feel like throwing up, if she only could have done something like that. Survival was what mattered the most. No matter what happen, she would survive this. She refused to end up like Bertrand, a puppet whose highlight in existance was to serve their creator. A creator which did not deserve their obedience or respect.

Vittorio sat down in a chair and closed his eyes while listening to Celestine. Then began to manifest his astral self next to his physical body, appearing first like a oval formed light before his tentacle like wings would spread out and like a butterfly exiting a cocoon he would spread them out.

"Galbrek's plans are of little concern. He has his own selfish ambitions, much like I have my own. Are you two any different? We all want something. Were my powers to aid or hinder Galbrek, that does not matter to me. He interests me not. Only when or if he gets in my way I will take appropriate measures."

Vittorio stood silent in his ghostlike form further listening to to Celestine. "Ressurrection. An act I cannot stand for. No matter whom it may concern. Everything only lives once, a single chance and a single life. All beings are like this. Life may not be fair, but it is fair that all only have one chance. Were I to somehow ignore this and try ressurrect someone from the dead, I would throw away all that which made life, their lives beautiful to begin with. Someone would try to play god. I will not stand for it. If you look back and try think in 'what if' scenarios you will run out of time. If you were able to turn back time, would you have done things differently? More importantly.. would it have changed anything at all?"

The ghostlike young man had an expression on his face which displayed both grief and severity. "This boy William and those who may share his company. I will examine them closely. It would be dangerous to let such a force roam free. Not only for me but for the rest of Rhea."

"Life is not only sunshine and rainbows, such a thing can quickly be devoured by dark clouds and heavy rain. Rain which'll never cease to fall." Vittorio floated over behind Celestine to look at the laptop. "William Ascott. You know me, Celestine. I am as sensible as they come. When in ones home, where safety is assured would be the perfect place to strike at. Yet with caution."

His ghostlike form reached over to pick up his physical form aswell as the chair he sat on. "We'll both be going for this one. I will be back before dawn. Thank you. Celestine." He said in an echoing tone before he made his way towards the doorway, not caring the slighest about what hour it was. He had gotten his rest.

William Ascott. For your role in trying to play god, I shall be sent forth as the gods mighty hammer to pass judgement...
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Dezuel
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Ebil Bunny
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Cyan


TAGS: @AtomicNut

Cyan sat atop his throne with the back of his head resting on his hands. It was pretty boring up here, and quite uncomfortable. Maybe sticking the throne on top of a huge mound of gold and valuable artifacts wasn't the best decision, as it caused the thrown to slant at a fifteen or so degree angle. Not to mention the throne itself was rather small, and so he had to sit on it sideways with his legs hanging over one chair arm and his middle back on the other. It was kinda painful, but there weren't any other chairs.

And above all else, despite hating to admit it, the boy felt lonely. Nobody else was allowed in the palace after all. He would have loved to invite some other people to play some baseball, or hide and seek, or just hang out. Maybe he should revoke that rule, he had the power after all. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. People were only ever after the gold. It's not like this was the first time he'd considered allowing others in. Cyan had revoked the rule several times before, each under different circumstances and with different conditions, but every time he found the room emptier than it was before. People never cared about him.

The fox tail, which was originally draped around his torso, drooped so much that it slid off and lay on the seat of the throne. Cyan sighed. He wanted to go for a walk, but that wasn't possible either. If nobody was here to guard the treasure, it'd all be gone by the time he came back. Samoth came by sometimes and guarded the palace (from outside, of course) which allowed the boy to stretch his legs in the forest, but Samoth was a third year. Third years had all kinds of things they needed to do in preparation for graduation. It wasn't often that the older boy was around.

Suddenly, one of the coins in the pile loosened under the pressure of the throne. As it began to slide down the pile, a chain reaction occurred. The treasure pile turned into a treasure avalanche, and Cyan was balancing, poorly, on top. The boy tried to slide off the chair to stand somewhere safe, but the throne fell over with him on it, and he began to get covered. The treasure was bearing down on his chest and he couldn't move. As a pile of gold coins flowed over his face, he found himself unable to breathe. This is where he'd die, strangled by his own treasure...



The boy awoke, struggling against two arms that were squeezing him much too tightly. His face was pressed up against some round blob of flesh and he was running out of air. Pushing as hard as he could against the belly of the beast, Cyan finally managed to make some room for some air. After taking some deep breaths, he managed to calm himself down to some extent. Ah yes, he was at Meredith's house, meaning this thing was probably Meredith's belly. The boy distinctly remembered her saying she'd sleep on the floor. So much for that. As fatigued as he was, the boy decided walking back to the academy was definitely the better option at this point.

Wriggling the best he could, he somehow managed to escape the death grip the girl had on him and he flopped onto the carpeted floor. A wave of relief washed over him and he lay panting for a moment. That was the most intense and unwanted hug he'd ever experienced, and he'd experienced quite a few unwanted hugs in his time. But now that he was free, he needed to somehow make it back to St. Laurel's, and he still didn't know where it was.

After thinking for a second, he began to look around Meredith's room for a phone charger. He didn't need to charge it much, just plug it in so he could use it to look up general directions. From there he'd be able to make it on his own by memory.


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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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End of a Long Night



@6slyboy6@Dezuel@Scarifar@Ebil Bunny@Hammerman@Crowvette@Letter Bee@Bartimaeus@rawkhawk64@AtomicNut




And so it was that the long night, and all of the mysterious events that had come with it. The Mephisto's students, with the possible exception Christine, went downstairs and vanished just as mysteriously as they had first appeared with the help of Clara's powers. The St. Laurals, none the wiser to whatever lurking horror Clara had hidden withing the students they had rescued, rode home in style it Alto's limousine. The Vigilantes filtered out, perhaps going their own ways. Perhaps walking together back to their church hideout. The lives that they'd helped saved and the evil they'd helped quell both worthy stars beside their name. The world spun on, largely unaware of what had transpired that night in the abandoned apartments. Strange lights and sounds were reported that night flashing from the top of the building but strange sounds and lights were not an uncommon occurrence in Rhea, and even that mystery was settled when the Vigilantes reported that they had destroyed a demon nest that night in that area. The missing students were returned with no one the wiser, and St. Laural's used its considerable influence to stop anyone from asking any uncomfortable questions.

Lise did receive a short call from the police to inform her that a limousine with plates matching her families had been found smashed and burned out in a bad part of town. Other than that, everything was successfully swept under the rug.

Of course, why would anyone be talking about anything that had gone on in the apartment when they could be talking about what had gone on at the Midnight Tournament that same nigh? What would have been news with a less law abiding set of teenagers had quickly blossomed into
the talking point due to the strange way the Tournament had concluded. People who had been in front filled in the detail for people who had been in the back. The people from the back told people that hadn't been there. The people that hadn't been there told people they assured that they had been there. The rumor mill spun and spun, until it broke an axle and the wheel flew right off. I heard it killed someone.




"He didn't kill anyone, that dude wasn't human."
"No, he totally killed that guy. His power was to dissolve things."
"He saw his match, he was just an armor guy. Besides, that dude was a demon. They all were."




"Did you hear there was a demon at the midnight tournament?"
"I know, right? Suuuper scary. I heard it ripped up the back of a car and ate the driver, and it only got taken in because its master showed up."
"You're both full of it. Demons that strong don't show up in Rhea."




"She could do anything. I swear, she pulled monsters out of nowhere."
"Demon lady of despair, huh? You think she's single?"
"Doubt it. She's what they were fighting over. The armor guy and that weird vampire. I think she's the vampires ex."
"But you said you didn't see the vampire fight?"
"No, no, 'course not, he's a vampire. He's got minions for that..."




"...21 monsters, all the size of a car, and a big ol' demon dog, an they're coming at him, right, but he keeps pulling this Devil May Cry shit..."



"What I wouldn't give for the number of that girl that beat up Wolf. Who is she? I don't know. Nobody knows. That's the biggest mystery. She's probably working for that Galbrek guy."




"...Mephisto's. You know that Clara girl is into the occult. The monsters could only have come from her..."




"...ninja's just falling out of the trees, throwing hurricanes everywhere, running through the grass, hey? Where are you going? Come back here! You have the believe me! There are ninja's in this city!!!"




"I personally fought this "wolf demon" you all are going on about and she is nothing of the sort. I wouldn't normally waste time on a mongrel like you, but continue to insult her as such and I will get up and twist you into a pretzel. Do I make myself clear?"




"The wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon."
"No, the wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon."
"That's what I said, the wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon!"




Such is life in the city of Rhea that these rumors, and many more, could never be dismissed out of hand. That is the magic of life in the big city. And on and on it goes, this strange life led by these strange and wonderful people.

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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Epilogue - Bak Tsarevna





Bak saw everyone off at the school gate, merrily waving goodbye as each one left in turn until she was all that was left. It was only then that she let her smile dip. Standing there alone, the chill breeze ruffling her skirt and biting into her where metal met flesh, she couldn't help but be reminded of her life before. Before Mephisto, before the city, before...friends.

She brought up her hand, the one Rurik had held in his for just a short time, and stared at it anxiously. She remembered, back in the Old Country, how someone else had once held her hand in the same way. It was back when she was young, back before the news of Bak Tsarevna coming to town was enough reason to close all business for the day and huddle with you family in a darkened cottage. Her parents never enjoyed bringing her to the village they lived just outside of, but they were practical people if nothing else. Their daughter, despite her deformities, was very strong. If a particularly heavy load had to be toted from the general store to their small sheep farm her mother, Bak Anya, would lead her into town by the hand, taking great pain to make sure her daughter stayed very close. Bak knew there must have been the typical looks, the muttered words, the signs of the gods people made at her approach, but back then she'd been to enthralled to notice. The village was so big to her then, as big then as the wonderful city that stretched out before her now was, and her mother held her hand the whole way. If she was a good girl and didn't end up firing at anything on their outing her mother would even take a little money she had set aside and buy her a sweet as a reward. Those were the good days, the finest days of her life. At least until one night.

It had been one of the good days, Bak being guided into the village to carry up a new stove for the kitchen. She should have been asleep, but she'd had the bright idea to divide up the sweet her mother had bought that day and ration them out over the course of the day. The sweet lemony taste in her mouth still hadn't faded, and as she lay wrapped in a blanket on the pile of cushions that made up her bed she was still giddy with pride over what a good idea she's had. That was when she'd heard a soft sound coming from another room. She'd wondered what it was, and slowly so as not to wake her mother and father crawled on her belly toward the the crack in her door. She didn't need to worry about that though. They were already awake.

Bak's mother was sitting at the kitchen table, lit only by the light of the new stove, face in her hands. Standing behind her was the shadow of what could only be her father, Bak Tsar, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. He was murmuring quietly to her, clam words of what could only be love from the tone. Her mothers shoulders quaked slightly under those hands and the soft sound coming from her came out in rhythm with the shaking. It was a strange sight, Bak had always known her parents to be stoic and solid as the mountains, and for a moment Bak felt incredible fear creep into. She was about to call out to them, ask what was wrong, when her mother lifted her face and the sight of the light reflecting off her tears silenced Bak before she could speak. She turned to her husband and said in a forceful, sorrowful whisper that he didn't understand what it was like. He never had to touch her. Bak's father, the stern but loving husband, leaned in and implored her to help him understand. Unconsciously Bak had learned in too. On some level, she known what was going to coming next. That she should have plugged her ears and pretended she'd never heard anything. That the pain of what was coming would only be surpassed by the sheer agony of burning alive. She listened anyway, though. She listened as her mother described exactly how it felt to hold Bak's hand.

It was cold, she said, and dry. So dry, ever since the flamethrower incident. Like a piece of dried meat that someone had driven nails through. But there was something deeper than that. The meat was rotten, somehow. It didn't ooze and it wasn't soft but there was rot. Something wrong lurked under that, festering and growing just out of sight. It was like holding hands with her own daughter corpse, and always being afraid that the thing puppeting it around was going to spring to attention and drag you, giggling, under the Earth. Just as it had done in her nightmares.

There was no way anything that felt like that could be a human, could it?

Bak's father never got to give his answer, at least in a way for her to overhear. At the moment Bak's head had fallen forward onto the door frame, letting out just enough of a thump to spook them. They stared the door to her room for a long time, just like the sheep did when they weren't certain whether a predator was lurking in the treeline. Bak had never understood why her father had taken the time and money to extend the house once she had started getting older, but now she could guess. Slowly, once he was sure it was safe, the man put his arm around his wife and led her from the room. Bak continued to lay there alone in the dark for who knows how long, too hurt even to cry, before crawling her way back over to her bed and wrapping herself up again against the nights chill.

The next morning no one said anything about what had happened, but that wasn't unusual in their household. Then next time it as time to go to town Bak insisted she was big enough that no one had to hod her hand. Instead of a sweet, Bak asked if her mother could save her money to buy a pair of thick gloves for her. She told them they were to make handling the sheep easier. If either ever connected this odd request with that bump in the night they never gave any indication that they did. That wasn't unusual in their household either. At least, in the parts that Bak was allowed to see.

So now here she was, staring down at her hand. She wasn't worried about Thobias. He had had hands all over him when she'ed touched him, and it was only for a few seconds on one of the least sensitive parts of his body. But Rurik, he'd held on. And she's stupidly held back without even considering how it must feel. Had he felt the same thing her mother did back then? Would it be better if he hadn't? What if he brought it up? What if he didn't bring it up?

These were the worries that ate away at her as she trudged back to the school building, down into the basement where monsters were suppose to live. Monsters were lucky things. They didn't feel things like pain and fear, and they never cared about being alone. Baba Yaga would kill or aid anyone that came to her at her own whim, and never thought of them again after they were gone. She didn't have any wants or desires like a human. Bak wished she were really a monster like that. She wished she didn't have to pretend.




Epilogue - Gilliam DeWitt





Gilliam had a fantastically efficient metabolism. His ability to digest and transform things into energy was, in his person experience, second to none. That why where most of his cohorts presumably walked laboriously to their homes Gilliam was able to do so with a proud stride. Even in Rhea a man walking home in the dead of night wearing a finely tailored suit might be considered odd, but Gilliam wouldn't dream of transforming it into something more casual. Be elegant. That is what his handlers had taught him. Be elegant in all things when you can. Confine the ravenous monster within with a straight jacket made of proper etiquette and class. Walk gallantly, even if you aren't feeling all that gallant at the moment. That was his way.

He was not, in fact, feeling particularly gallant at the moment. His first official mission as a member of Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined had not gone well at all. He had gotten lost, gotten distracted by Alto, been prevented from preventing the reinforcements from headed upstairs, and had been unfathomably late to attend the battle at the top of the building. On top of all that he had been humiliated by a bird. All in all, as far as debuts go, it could have gone better. Being the man in the light was much harder, it seemed, than being the monster in the shadows. He envied Yuuto for that position. What he wouldn't give to be carrying out Mistress Clara's orders right now, slitting throats and disposing of evidence. That's what he was good at! But his masters had said no, Gilliam time was now. He supposed it was inevitable. What was the point of training him into a semi-functional human being if he wasn't going to be thrust into the spotlight eventually?

As Gilliam rounded the corner his eyes fell upon the welcome sight of Flo's Funeral Parlor and Mortuary Services. Under the large picket sign declaring its name was the motto "When you have to go, go with The Flo." They were mistaken for a plumbing service roughly twelve times a month. Which wouldn't be a problem if the old woman didn't insist of strapping on a toolbelt and heading out every time, insisting that she could do the work and that money was money.

As he made his way up the cobblestone pathway to the main building he noticed that the lights were off. That was good. He didn't want the old woman to be worried about how late he had come home tonight. He reached out and carefully took the doorknob, turning it and opening the door slowly so as not to wake the sharp eared Flo.

BANG!!!!!

Gilliam laid splayed out on the pathway on his back, fuzzy on what had happened to put him their, until he heard a voice like a screeching bird.

"GOT'CHU THERE YA' GAT DAMN NEC-RE-MANCER, CAN'T GET ONE OVER ON OL' FLO TWICE INNA NIGHT!"

Gilliam lifted his head just enough to see a grinning, wild eyed old woman standing in the doorway cradling a shotgun. The lights had been flipped on, and the chair sitting directly behind her told him that she had been waiting in front of the door in the dark just waiting to blow away anyone unfortunate enough to walk in. His unique ability to taste with his entire body detected the distinctive taste of rock salt sprayed out in a pattern on his chest.

"Grandmother?" He asked, confused but otherwise unhurt.

"Gil?" She relied, opening one eye much wider than the other to get a better look at him. She was surprised, then she resumed being mad. "What'in sam hell ya' doin' out so late, boy?" She said, dropping the spent shotgun to clatter on the ground and making her way down the steps to help him up.

He raised his hand at her offered one and pulled himself to his feet, the salt already absorbing into his body through his stitching shut suit. "Miss Clara requir-"

"Uh-uh, uh-uh, say no more." She replied, turning away and walking back toward the door like she expected him to keep up. "I see, I see, leavin' your poor grandma alone at the mercy a' these necremancers ta' go canoodlin' with ya girlfreind. Can't spare a thought for you're dear old Flo."

Gilliam obediently followed after his "grandmother". She wasn't actually his grandmother. Gilliam wasn't sure he'd ever had a grandmother. Flo had been good to him though. He was initially pointed to her by Clara, who'd told him the old woman had a habit of taking in strays without asking questions so long as they were agreeably to some work. Indeed, when he'd first arrived there had been other children living here. Others had come and gone since. No one managed to last as long as Gilliam had. Flo was demanding, and had her eccentricities, and most had other places they could go now that they though about it.

She was a mean cook, though. And she made big portions.

Gilliam looked around the parlor that made up the first floor of their home, done up in red velvet and filled with fine caskets on display. "Far be it from me to suggest that there are no Necromancers grandmother," he said, actually filching when Flo turned on him with a gaze that could chisel through icebergs. He continued, resolutely, "But how would you know one had been in here? Did they steal something?"

"Hah!" She coughed, then dropped down to the floor on all fours in the doorway. She waved him down to her level and pointed to something laying on the floor. It was a single strand of her old, gray hair. "I put it in this here door, so's I could know if someone snuck in in the night. Got up fer a midnight snack and felt something off in my water. Came down here, spotted the thing, set myself up to wait an' see what happened."

She stood up and looked around the room. "Lucky sum'bitch too. Managed to avoid all the booby traps." She kicked one of the coffins on display and it jumped forward on a spring mechanism, flying open to reveal the interior completely full of bear traps which it threw all over the room in the opposite direction from them.

Gilliam waited for the mechanical clatter to cease, before asking, "And how do you know it was a necromancer?

"Don't be dumb, boy! Who else is gonna try and rob from me? Think!" She reached up and poked the side of his head for emphasis before crossing her arms and giving him a dirty look. "If ya'd been here when you shoul'da..."

"I wasn't." Gilliam said, bowing in supplication. "And I apologize. Just one more in a long string of failures tonight, I'm afraid. It will not happen again."

"Well see that it don't." The old woman said, then her eyes softened. "I suppose ya already ate?"

"I'm always hungry." Gilliam replied.

The old woman grinned again. "I'll go heat up supper then. Made casserole and beans. Sakes alive boy, yer gonna kill me with all these late nights." With that the woman climbed back upstairs to their living quarters, peace of mind apparently restored now that Gilliam was home.

Gilliam smiled as he watched her go, then turned seriously back to the room. The old lady was eccentric and paranoid but that didn't mean that someone wasn't really after you, and he couldn't imagine the fear the old woman must have experienced waiting in the dark unsure of who was and was not in the house. If there was someone who had caused that fear then he wanted to know. His face shifted, regrowing the trunk that he had displayed in the apartment, and he dropped the all fours. He crept along the ground like a spider, slowly picking his way through the bear traps and running his truck over the open ground. Finally, he hit upon a smell. A familiar smell. And unbelievably familiar smell. Like dank carpet, ectoplasm, and brimstone.

It was unbelievable. It was impossible. He extended his nose far from his own body to make sure it wasn't him but it still registered the same. He knew this exact smell.

Someone from the apartment tonight had been in his house.






Epilogue - Naseraph Sana





Naseraph trudged like a wet crow to his room in the churches steeple and plopped down onto his mattress. He was exhausted. Not physically. He wished he was physically exhausted, that would have been a salvation. Physical exhaustion would mean he'd have at least gotten some of this frustration out. No, he was simply exhausted by nothing going right today. Gods, he had almost lost his temper! He had almost let the mask slip. That would have been unacceptable. Not before the proper time. Not before he struck and claimed the number one spot, and with it all the pleasures of the city, as his own.

The phone on his nightstand began to ring. He glanced over, having forgotten to carry it earlier that day. That was exactly the sort of thing he was talking about when he thought of pleasures. The ability to talk like this, over long distances, was a miracle that had been forbidden him on the mountain! But as he reached out and took it in his hand to see who was calling his face fell. With every miracle, he supposed, there should come and equivalent curse. He considered just letting it ring, but, no, he couldn't take that risk. The person on the other end was fickle and could bring him down with just a few words. It was better to answer her, as much as he despised the thought.

He answered the phone and didn't even get a word out before a slightly bored voice said "I know you were at the midnight tournament tonight, so tell me what happened. If someone actually died I win a bet."

"Unfortunately," Naseraph replied through teeth. "I was delayed and unable to grace the tournament with my presence."

There was a pause on the other end, before, "What was more important?"

"If you must know," he continued, "I was helping to clear a haunted building tonight."

"Oh, King's thing." The voice said, registering mild interest. "Yeah, he told me about that this afternoon. Decided not to go. Ghosts annoy me. Report that then. I don't want to have called you for nothing."

Naseraph gritted his teeth but recounted the entire experience as he had lived it, from the confrontation with the mechanical monstrosity in the hallway all the way to what he saw of the battle on the roof. He heard the girl on the other end click her teeth in annoyance.

"That's about what I'd expect from this school. They have to be the big shining star on the Christmas tree, doesn't matter how many people get hurt in the process. I'm gonna have t see if I can get these kids to talk before the inevitable gag orders. Just one of them opening their big mouth would really embarrass some powerful people."

"What about the ghost I told you about? Why does he hate Alto?" Nasearph asked.

"That guy? Just one more thing swept under the rug."

"He could be a powerful ally to me."

The voice on the other end didn't reply for a long time. Then, she sighed. "I'm going to stop you right there, birdbrain. Even if he would work with you you wouldn't be able to get him too. You'd have to take off the mask, which you would never do. You're just like St. Laural's: committed to the role."

"I am-" Naseraph started, standing up, but the voice cut him off.

"Did I say I was finished? No. So sit back down and open your ears. Do you know that the more we use certain pathways in our brains the stronger those pathways become? So when we think it's more likely for our thoughts to take those stronger pathways?"

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"You had a chance to fight any of them tonight." The voice accused. "Any one of your choosing. You had it and you didn't. Think about it, what better way is there to learn how someone fights than, oh, I don't know, how about fucking fighting them? You could have, but because you've been using your bitch paths so long they're starting to become the real you. You're killing yourself and you don't even know it, how sad is that?"

"It was not the proper time!"

"Oh I'm sorry, is that bitch Nasearph speaking? Could you put the real one on the line please?"

He just about popped a vein, but then a sudden tranquility washed over his face. His breathing steadied. He went from screaming manic to placid lake in two seconds flat, seemingly breathing the anger out. Seemingly breathing everything out, leaving only...nothing. Then, in this placid state, he whispered into the phone. "I have killed before. For less than this grief."

There was another pause. Then, a satisfied "There he is. Well, I sincerely hope you take a run at me. It'll be the first genuine thing you've done since you tried to wring my neck. Thanks for the info Birdbrain. I'll see you tomorrow."

The line went dead and Naseraph calmly placed the phone back on the nightstand. It sat there, alone, one of the only items he owned. There were no trinkets in the nightstand, no adornment on the walls. The trunk the foot of his rickety bed contained only a few changes of clothes. If someone were to look at this room they would be able to tell that someone stayed here, but there was no indication that someone lived here.

Naseraph sat back down on the bed, as calm as the eye of a hurricane and equally foreboding.

Ria Köhler laid back in her own bed, idly looking at her phone and scratching the head of one of the cats she'd searched out today in lieu of dealing with Kings ghosts and goblins. There was a strict no pets allowed rule for the St. Laural's dorm rooms, but she didn't really care. This school could bite her. This whole fake city could bite her.

The problem with Nasearph was really a problem with Rhea as a whole. Maybe the whole world. There were too many people trying to play a role, pretending to be something that they weren't and strangling themselves with other peoples opinions. She probably wouldn't mind, she'd probably be one of them, if the gods hadn't seen fit to bless her with the ability to see through anyone. The subtle gestures, the facial tics, the slight muscle contractions that told her all she needed to know; that the person standing in front of her was a fake, and they were unhappy with it.

She hated people like that. Unfortunately, most people were like that. Everyone would be so much happier if they just stripped off the masks and acted as they wished. Like cats.

She sat up and lifted a pair of cats out of the five she hadn't found homes for that day. Placing them on either said and cradling them in her arms, they struggled and clawed and eventually tore themselves out of her grip and sprinted across the room to hide under her dresser. She looked down at one of the freshly bleeding wounds on her arm, then back to the eyes watching her menacingly from under the dresser, and smiled.

Good for them.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by RoflsMazoy
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RoflsMazoy Enjoyer of cute animals~<3

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Midnight Tournament, Epilogue

As the van made its way screeching through the streets, its driver was placing a frantic call.

"Boss, we got interrupted!" She said, hurtling around a corner. "We thought it'd be fine because Alex was there, but then more cops showed up!"

She swerved suddenly, narrowly avoiding a cat which'd run onto the road. The voice on the other end of the line came through static-y, but clear enough.

"Are you driving right now?" The voice on the phone said.

The van ran straight into a speed bump and sailed through the air for all of half a second before crashing back down with a loud bang!

"Yeah?" She replied as she regained control of the vehicle.

"I can see you're going double the speed limit right now, and considering you're not exactly slowing down I'm guessing Jokey is unconscious in the back." The voice continued.

The dj turned driver looked into the back of the van to see a body sprawled out on the floor.

"No one's chasing you so I suggest you slow down. It's dangerous to talk while you're driving, anyway."

The van screeched to a halt, catapulting the unfortunate Jokey into the front. The impact seemed to finally wake him up and he glared at the DJ as he got to his feet.

"Right, sorry boss. So, usual procedure then?" She said sheepishly.

"Yes, I'll send you the locations so you can give the money back. I'll also have your usual pay at the end, although I'll have to do half now and the other half later."

"Why only half?"

"Circumstances on my end, nothing I can do about it. More importantly, did you find anyone interesting?"

"Hah, that's a no on our end," She sighed. "There was sort of one person who might've had potential, I guess? It looked like she used cards or something but I think she just makes them herself."

"Hmmm, alright then. Just make the rounds and switch off for tonight." The voice finished.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Dezuel
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Galbrek


The day after the eventful evening.

"Master Galbrek! Master Gal-" Adam came yelling barging into the room his master were located within only to be met with a backhanded slap seeking to slap him across his face. Adam however managed to get out of it's reach just in time.

"Adam! You dodged on purpose..." Galbrek said before stepping up to backhand him properly, this time the doll took the slap across the face.

"Now learn to knock. I might be in the middle of an important meeting." The half demon pointed to the nearby wall where he had drawn a crude sketch of William which he used for practicing dart throwing.

"Forgive my lord, but this was left for you my master." Adam held over a package with some dossiers in them. "What is this?" Galbrek asked, raising an eyebrow as he approached.

"Papers my lord." Adam quickly replied.

"You dolt! I can see that it is paper! But more importantly what is written on them?!" Galbrek grabbed hold of the dossier and began to look it over. His irritated face began to change and his eyes widened, his gritted teeth turned into a wide grin. He began to chuckle, and later on it turned into full laughter.

"Heh...heh... gah hah hah hah! Yes! This is exactly what I need! The all powerful evil gods have indeed sent a gift to their most favored child! William...Just you wait you inbred mortal mongrel. Welcome to planet hell!"

Some time later…

*A couple of video tapes has been sent to various news agencies in the city*

The camera would fixate on a young man standing near a finely decorated table with a map of Rhea behind it.

"If I may have your attention, inhabitants of Rhea and the surrounding area! I am Lord Galbrek Ravenovich, fourth son of Lord Alduss Ravenovich of the WREVL banking corporation.

I speak to you in this time of great sadness and confusion, for there has been an attempt on my life and an unjust warrant out for my capture by corrupt or controlled officials.

Controlled? What do I mean with that? Allow me to tell you! For amongst you, in this very city walks a person with a particular ability that allows him to meld into peoples everyday life. Becoming a friend while in fact he is a fiend, a pretender and a imposter.

How is this possible? Allow me to tell you about it, he possesses a power which I'd come to call 'The narrarive role'. It allows him to toy with peoples minds to accept him into their very lives as if he had earnt it. While he has in fact burglarized your heads and is now eating from your pockets!

How terrifying it is. Not knowing where or when he would strike, perhaps he already have or is sitting next to you just now. How would you be able to tell the difference to unmask this deceiver?

Not only can this person do this, he can copy powers of those he has witnessed and then make use for them himself. Imagine what he could do would he see the most powerful wielders of powers in this world? It is like giving a large device of mass destruction to a terrorist!

Do you think you can avoid his gaze and intrusion? Think again. He also bears the power to gather knowledge just by coming into contacts with a building which may tell him of things which has occured in it. Your personal private life. Your buisness arrangements. Where you store your valuables.

Just a few things which this man could do to you. This terrorist as he should be called lastly also has a power which forces people to stand by his side and if they refuse it shall weaken them and make their luck run low. Making their lives miserable.

These terrifying powers are running rampant even now and who knows if the power is passed down through the family. Are you willing to take the risk? I call for the authorities to seize this terrorist and those who plot with him."

-

Galbrek would approach the camera and showing his bruised cheek and bloodied lip, showing his missing tooth. "I was physically attacked by the very mother of this terrorist as she attempted to aid her wicked son and his fellow terrorists from silencing me. Assassination attempt."

"The name of this terrorist is William Chekhova Ascot! Him and his family should be quarantined! I have a full dossier here with proof of his wicked powers." Galbrek would pan the camera down to show a bunch of papers.

"I will only hand them to the chief of police or judge of the city once the threats posed by these Ascot's have been dealt with. In addition, I offer on behalf of my father, the just and rightious man that he is a bounty of twenty-five thousand for the capture of this William Chekhova Ascot. Thank you and be watchful fellow peace loving citizens."

Galbrek placed a hand on his chest and offered a salute then the camera recording stopped and Galbrek walked over to Adam who stood behind the camera.

"Ugh. Makes me sick speaking like that. But it will have to do. Wiping out that worm is highest priority. Why not let the mortal fools in the city mob up and put him to the torch? Nothing like some good lynching to enlighten the peasantry of their place in the world." Galbrek smirked and then let an evil chuckle echo through the hallway.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Dezuel
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Vittorio


"Vittorio?" The voice came echoing to him, he turned around but saw no one. Then he heard it again. "Vittorio... It's okay."

The voice belonged to Charlotte, a voice he could never forget. A voice so soothing yet so energic. The memory of the evening before the horrible event came to him. In a calm park during the summer. With birds chirping and water spewing out of the fountains.

Charlotte was smiling and waved with her right hand, whilst carrying some bag on her left shoulder. Her left hand neatly placed on the bag to prevent it from sliding down her slender shoulder.

"Oi! Vittorio! Sheesh.. you gotta try keep getting here on time, it's rude to keep a girl waiting you know?" Charlotte pouted before giving him a wink, sticking out her tongue. "Just kidding.. you are two minutes early." She giggled with her right hand over her mouth.

"I-I... right.. uhm.. Don't scare me like that." Vittorio answered with a slightly troubled look on his face while he approached. "I don't have any amazing powers to get me here any faster anyways.. I am not Geon or Carus."

Charlotte took up a magazine from her bag and folded it into a roll before whacking Vittorio in the head with it, not too hard though. "Idiot. Does that bother you so much?" She said before letting out a soft sigh, facepalming her forehead with her right hand.

"Well... I am the only one who is not attending to St.Laurels. It's hard not to think about it. To be fair I am jealous... I would love to have powers like you all have, that way I wouldn't feel so... nevermind." Vittorio tightened his hands into fists.

"Hey! Psssh!" Charlotte snapped her fingers in front of his face. "The powers are not everything anyways. I like you for who you are, not what powers you have or not have. You are fun to be around. To be fair having a power is kind of troublesome at times." Charlotte looked around for a moment before turning back to Vittorio. "Because people will only notice you because of your power and not for who you actually are." She said with a slightly discouraged face.

"But that's not true at all Charlotte, you are really smart, funny and great to be around! I am sure the rest of the school feel the same way! You are really special that way..." Vittorio said, not daring to continue the sentence for fearing to reveal his feelings right there.

"Thank you, Vittorio. I would like to think I am just a regular girl who just happens to have been given this kind of power." Vittorio remained silent for a brief moment. "You always have been outstanding though. Geon and the others can vouch for that too! The rest of the school surely could aswell." He stepped abit closer, as the sun was going down in the horizon beyond the two as they stood there in the park.

"I have something to tell you tomorrow, I think I may be in love." She said with a slight blush on her cheeks. Vittorio could feel how his heart was stopping for a slight moment. Love... she feels the same way I do? I must tell her before she tells me...

"Hey Charlotte.. I have something I want to tell you too. You see I have always-" He was interupted by her. "Oh! Look at the time. I've gotta go. We can talk again tommorrow okay? Okay?" She leaned in to his face and gave him a smile before hitting his forehead with a finger. "Pffoh! Bang. You are dead." She smiled and giggled.

"Good grief... I guess I'll wait until tommorrow then. What's the worst that could happen?" Vittorio gave her a slight chuckle followed by a smile, waving to her as her parents were coming to drive her home.

"Don't forget to be there on time! And cheer up! You only live once! Laters!" She gave him a wide grin stretching from one side of her face to the other, waving her own hand. He had already prepared his gift for her, a music box with a beautiful ring in the middle of it with a heart shaped ruby-like gem. It was not very expensive, but it was bought with all he have had been able to get.
Having opened the music box a few times himself to listen to the theme playing. The tone was sad but also hopeful, like a melody befitting true love. As she was driving away he could hear the melody in his head.

Then the sound of shattering glass, followed by darkness. He was back again in the real world. It was just a memory. A very precious memory.

He was now back in his room, having returned from his encounter with William. Alongside Celestine and Celine. He sighed softly and then reached his left hand under his pillow, taking out a box with a worn out surface. He opened it, and it began to play that melody. The one locked in his memory. In the middle of the box laid the ring which was meant for her, but he never had the chance to give it to her.

"I'll never forgive you..." He felt the tear sliding down his face, he reached up to wipe his face with his free hand. Then narrowed his eyes. "No matter what I will destroy you." He tightened his hand into a fist.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by KillamriX88
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Wolf woke up after a slightly tumultuous night of sleep. He couldn't even recall his dreams int he slightest, if he'd had any. He just knew he didn't feel all that rested or relaxed. The previous days events told him something: things were about to break from their holding pattern. No longer would each day resemble the last.

He wasn't ready -- that needed to change.

He could only think of one good way to remedy his situation. He needed to go home and start over. Go back to basics.

Once he was certain that Andras could stay in the safety of the Blackgate household, he excused himself... but not before once again thanking Meredith for what must have been the third and fourth times for helping him. As he walked home, it gave him some time to think. He couldn't say for sure, and he didn't really want to think about it, but hadn't Meredith effectively saved his life? Sure it could be argued he'd have made it to a hospital with time to spare, but he hadn't gone to a hospital, he'd gone to her. And she'd come through.

If that was the case, he truly owed her... but what could he offer? After all, owing her or not, as her friend of years there wasn't much he wouldn't do for her to begin with. There had to be something, but it would have to wait for now.

Similar to the Blackgate household, his home wasn't exactly just a normal house. There was a tall wall with an arch. The arch held a large, iron gate, though right now it was open. One had to then walk across a courtyard before finally reaching the front door. The courtyard was mostly bare dirt, but it was smooth and well-maintained, with pave-stones and benches bordering it.

The property was shaped like a 90 degree corner, as there was a second courtyard to the side of the house, but that one was even larger. However, he wouldn't be visiting that one just yet. He walked inside, and made his way to his father's study, finding the man inside. He sat in an old, cushy recliner that was aimed toward the door, as if he'd been waiting. He set a book aside before speaking.

"Wolfram, you didn't come home last night. I expected you back quite soon after your little trip with Vera. I was worried," he said. He folded his hands, looking at Wolf pensively. Wolf winced, realizing he'd failed to call home and tell his father anything. "I can see by the look in your eyes, you're quite troubled." He tilted his head. "Very much so indeed. Tell me, Wolfram, what transpired last night?"

And so Wolf told his father everything he could, concluding with the fact that he needed help. He wasn't strong enough.

"Well..." His father seemed caught off guard by the exposition onslaught, taking a moment to process it. "I confess I think anyone would be troubled by that." He then looked at Wolf, dead serious. "But if you're going to be a part of this, you can't let that get to you. Your powers may be driven by emotion, but you can't be. The moment you're not the one in control of the fight is the moment you become most vulnerable."

Those words were nothing new. He'd heard them over and over. And over.

"I... I know, father."

"I know you do, but I've seen you stray more and more. So, it's good you've come to me. There's much to be done and perhaps now you will have the motivation necessary to correct the course you've been on." He stood up, grabbing a sheathed sword from a nearby desk. "Are you ready?"

"Umm, n-now?" Wolf glanced down at his stomach.

"What? Don't tell me you skipped breakfast!" And Wolf could only hang his head in embarrassment. "Well good! You won't cramp up, then!"

Yeah... good. When was the last time he'd eaten again?

























@Hammerman @Gentlemanvaultboy
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Mephisto's wicked Training for the Wickedly Inclined


Prelude


(Open to all Mephisto Students)


@KillamriX88@Dezuel@RoflsMazoy@Gentlemanvaultboy@rawkhawk64@Hammerman


Celestine rocked his neck back and forth, stretching into the open view that the rooftop of St Lucifer's High School offered. Having recovered from the fight of last week, he meditated thoughtfully as he let the draft ruffle his second set of female Mephisto's school uniform, alongside with a bronze, instead of ceramic mask this time, picturing a classical face. Of course the heavy duty boots and leather gloves had also became a significant staple of his current outfit, seeking to enhance the mystery of his Fallen One persona and identity. But that would not be enough for the old wiley's plans. Mephisto himself was up to something big the tournament... but the team that he and Clara could make... seemed quite pitiful. Full of dregs and maladapted people.

No sense of a team, more like a herd of cats in heat. Teamwork was only done to beat whomever made an enemy of two people at once and that was it. Something needed to be changed. Thankfully, he wasn't alone in this endeavour. That devil of a Man had gathered also teachers and not only students... and this particular teacher had gravitated towards him. Well, more like she was adopting him as his boytoy, just like the olden days at St Laurel she used to keep him as his surrogate younger sibling. Except that now, the relationship had changed significantly.

Perks of being of legal age, he supposed. He eyed her, in her gymnastic attire. The body of a sculpted war goddess, with taut flesh and strong muscles that had just enough to give her tremendous power, but not enough to make her sluggish. She flexed and stretched, her body moving in interesting ways underneath her P.E. teacher clothes, as she grabbed the scabbard of a blade.

"Well, cutie, I guess we're about to start?" She teased, grinning widely like a child with more bags of candy that she could it.

"Yeah, miss Maskono." Celestine sighed, and picked up a leaflet stack that was by his feet, and without second thought, tossed it over the roof, the thousand sheets of paper scattering in every direction throughout the courtyard. They had also taken care of stapling notices over.

Tired of being the underdog?
Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined
Lessons for training being offered.
See Miss Maskono, P.E. for details.


The leaflets also included a rather flattering hand drawn portrait of said teacher (no doubt sketched by Lightbringer himself), and a small map of the school, indicating the gym.

"Well, that seems to be it. Now to wait until they take the bait." Celestine added, shrugging.

"Weeell, regarding that..." The teacher known as Red Rain tilted her head, her grin still wide, as she tossed the sword still in its scabbard to the hands of the Fallen One. "How about a little appetizer?" Celestine blanched, as he gripped the weapon. No that wasn't in the plan, not in the plan at all! He added, bracing for impact.

"Exhibition match, go!" She grinned as she pounced on him like a pantheress, and kicking him out of the roof, while the Fallen One merely had time to parry the blow.

"WAAAAH!" He screamed in a rather girly voice, as he twisted midair like a cat, and making use of very skillful gymnastics, managed to soften the landing from falling from the roof with very skillfull spinning around a flagpole. I don't know half of the time if she's playing or trying to kill me. Well I suppose that's the spice I like in my life. He added, before drawing his weapon in anticipation of the teacher's landing.

And boy did she land in a spectacular fashion. How many people would nail a three point landing from a roof? not that many. "Let's train, transfer student!" She grinned, as she drew another sword as well. Both combatants looked at eachother in the improvised fighting ring. Their movements became blurs as sparks flew...
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Michael Angie

@Letter Bee

The day had been long, and Michael was due for a good rest. His tired brain was screaming for it, but Michael forced himself to do one last thing before flopping into bed and passing out. He made his way into his bathroom and opened up the cabinets, searching through the various medicines to treat his burns while looking up how to actually treat them on his phone. That guy before had also said something about a method to treat his burns, but his brain was so tired he could barely remember any of it. Nevertheless, he persevered, and managed to finish the bandages after a good while. Now for a good sleep...



Michael yawned as he woke up, still feeling sore and tired, but at least a little better than yesterday. A quick trip to the bathroom later, and he was soon freshened up, ready to start a whole new adventure. He began making something to eat while opening up a browser on his phone to catch up on the latest news. Something caught his eye on the news; in fact, it was all the news was screaming about right now.

"What the..." Michael muttered as he tapped on one of the headlines. "The Ascots: Parasites of Society... William Ascot's powers... 'Narrative Role of Familiarity'..." The article went into quite a bit of detail about his powers, and made some clearly exaggerated tales of potential misuse. Michael opened up more articles, a lot of them saying similar things. At the top of many of the articles was a video, presumably of the one spreading this information. "Galbrek Ravenovich... what a dangerous guy..." Michael said as he watched the video. The information Galbrek was revealing was too detailed to easily disprove, and the slander and libel coming from the news articles was undoubtedly going to damage the Ascot family's reputation.

"How unfortunate for them," Michael said, sympathizing with the Ascots. Michael sent a brief text to William:

To: William Ascot
From: Michael Angie

I saw the news about you, and it's not looking good. What are you going to do?
Uh oh


Naturally, Michael was going to aid the Ascots however he could. He had gone this far to gain their favors, and he was not going to let all that effort go to waste just yet.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by RoflsMazoy
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@Dezuel
Rhea's metropolitan police department reacted quickly, seizing whatever tapes they could. However, 'reacted' was the key word. They didn't have prior knowledge of what would happen, so there was no way for them to stop it from airing at all, unless the stations themselves didn't air them. A lot of them didn't, since the tapes seemed frankly strange. The concept of having an ability like the Narrative Role of Familiarity wasn't strange. There were plenty of stronger powers written in legend, and there were plenty of demons who had been able to assume similar powers in legends, who'd been dealt with one way or another. There were even demons who'd been able to copy powers before, and there were ways to deal with them then too. A combination of the two however had never been encountered before, and would be a concern except none of that part was the strangeness.

The strangeness was that someone would record tapes for something like this. If the people he claimed were truly terrorists, then it would be a military matter. He could report it to the authorities and they'd put resources into destroying the threat. If Galbrek had simply been angry that he'd been punched in the face, the normal process would be to file a lawsuit and press charges.

The tapes felt like fake sensationalist propaganda. The stations that didn't air them were happy to hand over the tapes since they would most likely have ended up collecting dust in their storerooms.

Some stations didn't care so much, however. Stations on their last legs and tabloids, those ones showed the tapes for a brief period of time before authorities forcefully intervened. The tapes were shown, but what effect they had is another matter.

The stations showing the tapes couldn't do much to mitigate their strangeness. Part of it was the production of the tapes was rather good quality for that type of thing. It wasn't believable. It looked too pre-mediated to be so unofficially sent out like it was a forbidden plea which may never see the light of day.

However, someone had been named. Regardless of whether or not they believed in what he had said, someone had been named. The damage which would result from this event was now up to the Ascot family. They could release an official statement through the police which Alexander was a part of. Or they could keep silence in order to hide their long-held role in human history.

One way or another, the decision they made would either keep the peace or begin to tilt Rhea slightly towards disorder.
@Letter Bee
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Good Morning, Tsarevna


It was dark in the room, but that was to be expected even in the middle of the day in Bak's basement room. This place had been retrofitted for human habitation, because it was obvious from the lingering smell of old rubber and stale sweat that the only things that had ever lived in this space were unused sports supplies. There were no windows and only one big double door that locked only from the outside, but the space was big enough for Bak to move around in and offered her almost complete privacy.

Bak sat in the far comer on a massive pile of cushions, gently snoring with her head lolled back on a pillow that had been shoved between it and the hand metal of her backpack. Bak didn't like mattresses, her talons had a habit of clawing them apart whenever she had a bad dream and besides that she didn't like laying down anyway. Laying on her side was awkward, on her back was completely out of the question, and facedown just resulted in an uncomfortable crushing feeling that kept her awake all night. So she slept like someone relaxing in a chair. It would probably lead to back problems in the long run but as far as she was concerned no back problem trumped the one where you had a missile launching tumor growing out of it.

"BAAAAAA"

Bak stirred.

"BAAAAAA"

Bak opened up her eyes.

"BAAAAAA"

Bak reached up to her nightstand and booped the novelty fluffy sheep alarm clock she had ordered from the internet right on the snoot. In the process of the boop, though, there was a bump as she knocked her arm into the corner of the nightstand and a lightning bolt of pain shot up it and buried itself in the very center of her brain. She let out a hiss and held the arm up to the sky while searching out the pull switch for the lights with her other hand. With a click the room was illuminated and she looked up at her arm as throbs of pain shot down it into the rest of her body.

It was all bandaged up clean and white, covered with a padding that Miss Celestine had been kind enough to apply for her. The old minigun that had served her well, along with the ruined slab of armor that the demoness had crushed, were both gone and a conspicuous bulge was visible underneath the padding. It had been growing for about a week now, ever since they got back. There hasn't been any point in delaying purging the gun, it wasn't as though the pain was going to be more tolerable in a week or two. So she'd gone into her basement and pulled it like you would a busted tooth. It still lay over on the other side of the room, next to her sewing table, the thick metallic tendrils as long as her arm that acted as the pseudo-nerves necessarily to control it splayed out over the side and coiling on the floor underneath. Now something new was growing where it had been, her choice based on the suggestions of her friends on the GUNZ-GUNZ-GUNZ 2 official forums.

She waited while the pain began to fade. If purging equipment was like pulling rotten teeth than growing new pieces could be compared to growing a shiny new tooth, nerves and all. Unfortunately, that meant that the nerves had to grow first before being encased by the armored protection of the newly grown tooth. It left whatever new part she was growing in a very tender state. She figured she had one more week of being careful before the shell was sufficiently thick enough to prevent teeth grinding pain whenever it received so much as a love tap.

She took the tow cable hanging under her cannons in her good arm and chucked it up over a steel bar that had been set into the ceiling and stretched the length of the room. She willed the gears to turn and they did so, pulling Bak up to her feet off the pile of cushions and spilling a variety of sheep themed stuffed animals she had been using as a blanket onto the floor around her. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes Bak made her way across the room, passed her sewing table, her computer, the massive poster of Celestine's mother she had managed to get from her, and gathered her uniform and bathroom supplies from a metal storage cabinet beside her door. Then, making sure that the back of her nightgown was properly tied closed, she turned the nob and made her way out as quietly as she was able.

Bak was an early riser. She got up before the sun was even thinking about peeking over the horizon, a holdover from her sheepdog days that had served her well in her new life. Not many people were around at this ungodly hour, and that suited Bak fine because it meant no one would see her before she was ready. In fact, the only person here that had probably ever seen morning Bak was the one that shared this basement with her and even then she'd never intended to wake him up. It was just difficult for her to walk quietly. Maybe he even just stayed up some nights, thinking deep thoughts about the night and death and stuff like that.

She trod carefully across the darkened room, trying to make only to most muffled of clanks so as not to disturb him. She caught a ghostly flicker of movement out of the corner of her eyes? Had that been him? Had she been to loud? She looked around the dark room slowly. She wasn't afraid of the dark, or Vittorio, or Vittorio in the dark, or anything like that. But it did spook her a little if she ever saw him floating around out here in the whee hours of the morning. "Good morning Vittorio." She said in a loud stage whisper, and waited for a response. When nothing came she decided to just quickly move on. Her destination was the girls showers in the gym. By Rhean law a public school with an athletics program had to have wheelchair accessible shower facilities. Fortunately for Bak Mephisto had cheaped out when renovating the school so that "shower" was a large concrete square, a drain hole, and a hose they ran in through the back door. It suited her much better to avoid getting all her equipment needlessly wet.




After toweling off and fixing her hair the way she liked it in the mirror she slipped her shirt around her neck and shoulders before started to tie it on. First the undersides of the sleeves using the little ties she'd sewn there, deftly manipulating the ties with one hand like she'd done plenty of times before. Then she tied the two sides together using the side ties. Then she made sure to get the back, difficult as it was to reach back there and tie it snugly so the fabric framed her backpack. She'd modified all her clothes like this to fit around her unique body frame, and had gotten pretty good at it over the years. With a snap, a button, a clasp, and a zip Bak put herself together piece by piece until she was ready for work!

After finishing up by oiling the joints in her legs she set out on her 5:45 patrol of the school to clear out any delinquents, nere-do-wells, or feral cats that had taken up residence in the night. Since Bak had started attending class here feral cat related injuries had gone down 80%. She'd timed it so that, barring interruption, she'd always finish on the roof just in time to watch the sun rise over the city. She waved down at any of the teachers she saw starting to file in for the day. Most of them tried their best not to make eye contact.

Waiting for the students that arrived was a significantly less friendly Bak. Anyone who went to this school knew that you would get hurried along to class at the end of a gun if you lingered in the hallway past the bell, and that was if she wasn't annoyed by something already. If she was already annoyed you generally got one verbal warning that, if you chose to ignore, would be followed by full volley devastation. Only five student had the reputation of being immune to this sort of coercion. Thobias were too tricky to hit, Gabriel Brekke was just too strong, Rurik had gotten it so often he could get away as causally as breathing, and Christine she refrained from shooting seemingly in order to spite the entire male student body. As for Clara...Clara was Clara. Enough said. The students had to wonder how Bak found the time to attend classes herself while waging this one woman war on juvenile delinquency. These students didn't know about Clara's invisible little friends, or how Bak had been allotted three of them in order to help with her duties as "Disciplinary Committee" head.

That would be a normal day, though. Today it was a well known fact that Bak was on the mend. She had been lax in her duties for the past week, merely noting the names and faces of those that were cocky enough to break the rues to her face. She'd let them off for now, then there would come a reckoning. Oh, there would absolutely come a reckoning! Really! There would! There was no way she was using her arms condition as an excuse to avoid confronting Rurik about anything. He deserved a week off anyway, for all the hard work he'd put in on the mission. She was just biding her time, that's all.




Bak walked around the school as class let out and club activities started to begin. She wasn't in a club. Most people here went home after the day ended, or went somewhere, and the ones that were liable to hang out after hours were a combination of the most brazen and the most skittish. Early on she'd applied to join the sewing club only to find the next day that they'd all apparently come down with late stage fingernail cancer and had to regretfully disband. Bak had gotten the message after that. So she patrolled the grounds doing the same thing she did in the morning; make sure there were no delinquents, ne're-do-wells, or feral cats hanging around after school hours.

Today, though, a flyer fluttered out of the sky and slammed directly into her face. Grumbling she pulled it off to get a good look at it.

Tired of being the underdog?
Mephisto's School for the Wickedly Inclined
Lessons for training being offered.
See Miss Maskono, P.E. for details.


Had the student council approved this? Bak didn't know, they hadn't been called together for a meeting in the past week. For all she knew this could be a fight club, or a revolution, or maybe even a trap to lure in the Mephisto's fighters! Maybe from that clever man the boy Galbrek had talked about on the television. It was her duty to investigate things like this. As she stomped off to figure this out a few more students that were otherwise members of the go home club curiously picked up the flyers behind her.

As Bak reached the area of the gym her ears perked up at the sound of battle and she doubled her pace until she rounded the corner and found the gym teacher locked in mortal combat with some masked girl! This was bad, that girl was really good to go toe to toe with Miss Maskono. If she got up close to Bak and targeted her arm she could probably put Bak out in seconds. But she could not abandon another of Mt. Mephisto's hard workers! "Miss Maskono, do you require fire support?" She yelled.

@RoflsMazoy@AtomicNut@Dezuel
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Gentlemanvaultboy

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*How did I do this a second time!?!*
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Letter Bee
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William Ascot

To: Michael Angie
From: William Ascot

Alex says that we should ride out the storm. Mom wants to make a public statement. But both agree that private parties are forbidden from issuing bounties on other Rhean Citizens and we can get at Galbrek that way. And by that. we're suing his father for providing funds for said bounty.

That said, once the people at St. Laurel's hear of this, I'll never be able to sit in on Student Council meetings ever again. And trust me, they'll eventually hear of this. That's the worst thing Galbrek's done right now.
Re: Uh oh


@RoflsMazoy

Alexander Ascot

Alexander chuckled as he spoke to his new adopted daugther, Christine (II) Baumann. "Guess people are gunning after your new Uncle, and doing so very badly at it at that. So, would you like lemon chicken, or roast beef later?"

He was ironing the clothes as his wife, Eleanor, signed the paperwork on the lawsuit they were filing against Galbrek's father for providing funds for an illegal bounty against a Rhean Citizen. The brown-haired woman with a long ponytail would then say: "Alex, keep your attention on the iron. That said, how much should we sue for? If it's too much, WREVL's pride might be insulted, if it's too little, that might not be enough of a threat."

Alexander gave a number, "100,000 Rhean Dollars. Four times Galbrek's bounty on William. That ought to send a message, especially as it's not the money itself that would be the problem, but the media circus it'll justify, especially as we're pressing charges against Galbrek as well for destruction of property and potential attemtpted kidnapping."

A few more minutes of ironing clothing before he said, "By the way, can you keep Chrissy safe while I go to the Prison where Mephisto's currently being kept? I want to know how much of a threat he is."

@Crowvette@KillamriX88@Bartimaeus@Dezuel@AtomicNut@RoflsMazoy@Scarifar@Gentlemanvaultboy

Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by KillamriX88
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Four days ago...

It had taken a day or two after the "Fallen One" had made the threat for Vernon to both think of an appropriate countermeasure... and then to gather the requisite courage to act it out. He strode into his father's office and fell into one of his chairs.

"Father," Vernon greeted the man. "How are things?"

"Shouldn't you know? You really should keep up on matter pertaining to the family," the man's gruff, weathered voice came back.

"I could have been asking about you."

"And I'd give you the same answer," the man finally met Vernon's eyes. "I am the family."

"Fair enough." Vernon conceded with a shrug. If the family was doing well, his father was, and vice-versa. He could be dying of the flu and still be an optimist, so long as the family was doing well. He'd probably survive too.

"Been meaning to speak to you. You ordered a shot to be taken in the middle of the city. Risky business, better have been worth it," the man once again lifted his eyes. Vernon swallowed. Oh good, already he was met with disapproval... this wasn't going to help things.

"I needed to slow down an enemy. Cousin should have covered his tracks well enough, so we need not worry," Vernon replied. "That... somewhat leads me to why I'm here."

"That so?" His father set the busywork before his aside and folded his hand across the lavish desk before him. "Go on then."

"You recall that cop, Alexander?" Vernon began.

"The junior officer, yes. He's looked into you once or twice. What about him?"

"I'm screwing his little brother." Well, no need to mince words after all.

". . . excuse me?" The man blinked rapidly, processing the words and probably attempting to suppress the accompanying mental images. "Are you... working on something?"

"Sorry, not a huge fan of the man. That was more crass than necessary. I should say I'm dating him."

"I. . . Are you serious?"

"Oh, the relationship is quite serious, thank you for asking."

The big man pinched the bridge of his nose, "Not what I was asking, though I suppose that answers my question regardless." He took a deep breath. "Why?"

"He's a funny little guy, what can I say. Couldn't stop myself." Vernon grinned. He smiled both at the thought of William and the humor of watching his father squirm. Also the try and quell the fear. Mostly that, actually. He'd be sweating bullets if his blood didn't run so cold.

"And you tell me this... why?" his father raised his voice, sounding quite aggravated.

"Preemptive action. Better you hear if from me rather than someone else," Vernon told him.

"I see. And what are you hoping the results of this conversation will be?" His father seemed more calm now, but that only meant the gears of reprisal could turn more quickly.

"Nothing. Precisely nothing. Someone else comes to you with this, you think I'm keeping secrets and harming the family, and so you act accordingly. Me? Well, then there's nothing for you to worry about. I have it all under control." If only, but that could be remedied long before his father had to lift a hand. Hopefully.

"I've had a lot of people tell me they had everything under control. Most of them are dead now," his father glowered, eyes burning holes right through Vernon. "You're my son, but blood only gets you so far. Don't disappoint me."

"Of course-"

"You're in bed arm's length from the police, Vernon. The second I even have an inkling you're going to harm the family, I will bring true all those fears you were hoping to side-step, understood?" And Vernon could feel the whole room tremble. His throat grew tight.

"Yes... father." Suddenly it was very hard to breathe. His father was an older man, but there was a reason he headed the family. His gut had long gone soft, but he had big hands with knuckles like knots on a tree. He shuddered to think of how many men those hands had choked the life out of.

"Good." And suddenly the air of dread cleared the room. "Might as well go tell your mother then. I'm sure she'll be overjoyed to hear you've finally found someone..." he let out long breath.

"Oh. Right." Vernon sighed as well. Of course she would be. This was gonna be a long day.

Present - One week after The Park...

Vernon walked through the courtyard at school. He was trying to be vigilant. William's biggest obsession and greatest enemy attended the school, after all. It may pay dividends to be alert. So far it hadn't, but anything could happen.

He had a soft cooler slung over his shoulder like a messenger bag and a half-gallon bottle in his hand filled more with ice than water. He needed to stay cool to function so he liked to be well equipped. It was at that moment that a flier pretty much fell into his hand.

"Training? Hm, that could be interest-"

Clang!

Vernon raised an eyebrow as suddenly someone swung off a light-pole to avoid falling to their death. Followed by the gym teacher. What?

That... that mask.

W. H. A. T?

Vernon's eye began rapidly twitching. Fallen One. Right there.

"Miss Maskono, do you require fire support?" He shook his head, coming back to reality at the sound of Bak Tsarevna's arrival on the scene. Perfect.

"Ah! Miss Tsarevna, it's good you're here! I know this masked fiend, they assaulted me and some friends not long ago, I assure you, fire support would be just lovely right now." And then he lifted his hands and staring icily at the "Fallen One." "I'll help." He spoke with just as much coldness.

'I told you I'd remember that, you little bitch!' he growled inside his head.
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