[hider=Cross Post Supreme! AKA: How to Barbeque Vampires, Pet Chimeras, and Shoehorn in new bad guys!]

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Tamara focused her attention, as she raced down the road, "[color=pink]Go![/color]" Spurred, the horse charged ahead and they came charging on a river. "[color=pink]Whoa![/color]" Tamara urged, pulling back on the reins, bringing the horse to stop on the shore. "[color=pink]Alright, vampire, welcome to your grave.[/color]" Tamara drew Jacqueline, and faced the water. "[color=pink][b][i]Striking..."[/i][/b][/color] she says, shifting her stance, "[color=pink][b][i]Crane...[/i][/b][/color]" she stepped forward, swinging the cursed katana, "[color=pink][b][i]Jumping...[/i][/b][/color]" she turned on her heels, and drew back her hand. "[color=pink][b][i]Karp![/i][/b][/color]" Tamara thrust her blade forward, and several bladed of wind created a wind tunnel that parted the river.

"[color=pink]In you go,[/color]" she says, throwing Nimoa onto a towhead covered with grass, and surrounded by rushing water on all sides. "[color=pink]Enjoy -- not![/color]" Tamara turned back to her borrowed horse, and started to cool him down. "[color=pink]Not a bad run,[/color]" she says, "[color=pink]You're a sturdy one. Like a bug, or a roach,[/color]" Tamara chuckled, "[color=pink]I'll call you Roche.[/color]"

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Over the sound of galloping hooves, a voice would give its own thoughts on the name Roche. [color=0072bc]“Never heard that one before,”[/color] Tristan sarcastically said, lunging off his “borrowed” horse and letting it charge toward Tamara. Nimoa seemed safe enough on her own little island in the middle of the raging river, so his priority was set to her kidnapper so he could keep her from interfering in their escape.

Whether she cut down his steed or dodged out of the way, she would soon hear the all too familiar sound of a rasping blade leaving its sheath as Tristan pulled his weapon free. Afterward, she would only have a fraction of a second to block an overhead swing from the hero. He was determined to give her as little time to recover as possible.
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Tamara turned an eye to the horse that charged her, and, beneath her mask, the nature of a demon seeped; a scream like metal boiling in a tea kettle issued from her, and the horse withered away -- its body falling down at her feet. "[color=deeppink][i]You would challenge a Hero,[/i][/color]" Tamara asked, her armor creaking, as it failed to properly hold her expanding musculature; Tristan's sword buried through her palm, which was gripped around the blade. The Hero could almost feel the metal crumple, as Tamara crushed it. "[color=deeppink][i]The human condition to challenge anything clearly greater than themselves... Such a savory bravery,[/i][/color]"

Suddenly, Tamara's arm burst out of her armor; sending rivets and plating flying. "[color=deeppink]Come, Villain, show me your bravery,[/color]" she says.
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As the fighting began, Nimoa furiously banged her tiny fists against the barrier the natural world erected, completely preventing her from crossing the waters. She wanted to help too! After all, Tristan had said that they would go find that alchemist together. She didn’t want to be a burden so early on...especially when he and Valkira were the first people to offer her help. As she saw Tamara start bursting out of her armor, her heart sank. Tristan may be a hero, but everyone knew that if a Cambion got serious, things could turn ugly fast. Thinking as quickly as she could, Nimoa grabbed a clump of dirt and hurled it at Tamara’s head, nailing her on the right side of her head. The wet mud clung to her hair, intermixed with a tiny, almost invisible traces of blood from Nimoa’s juice pouch. 

Taking a deep breath, she would shout: [color=6ecff6][b]”YOU’RE NO HERO! You’re mean! And you kidnap children, and throw them onto toe-heads, and then beat up real heroes like Mister Tristan! AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN LET ME PLAY WITH YOUR PUPPY!”[/b][/color] at the top of her lungs, cheeks red as she picked up more balls of mud, slinging them, as well as the many insults as she had in her tiny child brain. Including…

[color=6ecff6][b]”Garlic breath!”[/b][/color]

[color=6ecff6][b]”Stinky PalaDUMB!”[/b][/color]

[color=6ecff6][b]”Bad-At-Making-Islands-Lady!”[/b][/color]

[color=6ecff6][b]”POOPYHEAD!”[/b][/color]

Truly, nothing could withstand her verbal onslaught of G-rated insults.
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Tamara tilted her head, back, and grinned, like a sick predator, "[color=deeppink]Are you gunna cry, Little Monster? Ineffectual as you are, your emotions are delicious,[/color]" she looked back to Tristan, "[color=deeppink]Awaken, Regalia,[/color]" she roused the Chimera baby, "[color=deeppink]You have a friend to meet.[/color]"

Regalia groaned, as she awoke, and looked for her friend. It couldn't have been the huge blob in front of her Mommy, since her Mommy told her, "[i]Friends are smaller than me,[/i]" which ruled out the horses, too -- especially the one on the ground all sprawled out. As such, it must have been the one in the water. Bleating in triumph of its own thought, the goat head, typically the smartest of the three, directed the snake and the lion to look at Nimoa. In charge of the body, the lion head agreed to go and play with their intended friend.

Easily, in spite of her infantile form, Regalia crossed to the towhead, and shook herself dry. Now, how to play? Nimoa was throwing stuff at her Mommy. So, she should throw stuff at her? Not her Mommy; never, no. But... what could she throw? Confused, the lion head asked the snake head, who looked to the goat head, as they held a discussion, before getting an idea.

In the middle of a throw, Nimoa would find herself struck squarely in the hind by a bolt of micro-lightning.
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[color=0072bc]“Some hero you are. Kidnapping children, feeding them to your pets,”[/color] Tristan said as he watched his powerful attack prove to be as ineffectual as a teddy bear-wielding child at a gunfight. Seeing as how he wanted to get his weapon back and she wasn’t willing to be so courteous, the reluctant hero decided to be gracious enough to let Tamara keep half. Striking the already cracking blade with the shield he wielded on his left arm, the sword shattered just below where the hulking woman held it, giving Tristan the opportunity to get some room and reevaluate his poor life decisions. 

[color=0072bc]“I’m no saint either, but at least I have the decency to recognize how terrible a person I am. You though? There’s no worse villain than the kind who thinks they’re doing the right thing. You can justify any act as long as it leads to what you think is good.”[/color] Challenge her hero complex and get her to make a mistake. It could be more poor decision making or it could be a brilliant strategy, only the number of his ribs she was about to break would tell, but Tristan was trying to get her mad. [color=0072bc]“Take it from me though, all it leads to are more scars than you can count, usually upon the people you were trying to protect. A constant reminder of when you were young and stupid, thinking anything you’d save the world from whatever evil you thought you saw.”[/color]

As he considered what to do next, thinking of what this woman turned berserker would break or tear off first, Tristan realized something. A flimsy piece of steel wasn’t going to do any good against someone who breaks swords like toothpicks. [color=0072bc]“Nimoa! Catch!”[/color] he called out, tossing his shield to the vampire girl. She could probably put it to better use than he could at the moment.
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Nimoa would gasp as Regalia emerged, eyes shining, turning into shimmering stars as the beastial cub-kid-snek in awe, letting loose one last mudball at Tamara, before promptly getting struck in the butt by lightning. Yelping, the vampiress would rub her scorched behind, sniffling. [color=6ecff6][b]"Owieeeee..."[/b][/color] she would groan, before hearing Tristan. Paying the chimera no mind for the moment, she would listen in awe of his super cool table-turning dialogue. He was just like a real hero! Calling the baddie a baddie, and taunting them to get them to do something stupid. She heard this was a common tactic amongst humans. 

Regardless, she was caught off guard as Tristan yelled for her to catch. Fumbling with the shield as it landed in her hands, she nearly dropped it in the river before getting an idea. Spinning her pink hammer around in her hand, Nimoa would lay the battered shield in her lap, before starting to beat the crud out of it with her hammer, the whole thing started to grow a vibrant pink as she poured blood on the edges, then the center. [color=6ecff6][b]["Bloodforge! Dracula Aegis!"][/b][/color] she would cry out, a brilliant vermillion light staining the shield, newfound spikes adorning the front, as well as the rim, made entirely out of crystalized blood that inhabited and strengthened the iron. Reaching over, she would gently pet the goat head of Regalia. [color=6ecff6][b]"Tristan! I made it better!"[/b][/color] she would say, holding the shield aloft before throwing it like a frisbee…

A frisbee that if Tristan actually tried to catch it would lop off his hand from the spikes. Tamara too, as she could sense how much stronger the shield had become, being infused with vampire blood. It was like a buzzsaw of doom that, once no longer airborne, would prove a damn protective shield. 

For Nimoa though, she would grin, gently holding her hand out. [color=6ecff6][b]"Do you know how to shake?"[/b][/color] she asked, wanting to feel a chimera’s squishy little baby paws.
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[color=ed1c24]Let the flames dance upon this land so it shall know true hellfire!”[/color] Valkira said calmly as she walked to the island as slammed her sword into the ground below fire spreading from her blade as ground beneath morphed into a hellscape. Causing a large path of the water to split. [color=ed1c24]”Know my torment and burn in the fires!”[/color] She stated soundly as she once more walked towards the fighting her steps burning the very land she walked on as fire spread across the island consuming it in flames. 
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Tamara bent backwards; letting the reforged shield sail over her, and straightened out, as Valkira approached with her bold and brave emotions. This was a perfect storm of events. Tristan's existence. Valkira's bravado. Nimoa's innocence. So many pure emotions. It was utterly delicious... and, maddeningly empowering. She almost didn't want to draw her swords; she didn't want to stop enjoying this.

However, there was a small mangle of sound that ripped her out of her high, and she looked back -- Regalia was panicking, as she was more than able to take on a vampire with no sense or combat potential, but a full-blown demon was another story. All heads were in a tailspin of emotion; panic, fear, need -- all aligned to escape, but unable to do little more than be trapped against a river of fire.

Tamara had little recourse.
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Nimoa yelped in shock, not expecting Valkira to fight fire with fire...or rather, just fighting WITH fire. It was working however, as the river evaporated, clearing a path for Nimoa. Just as she was ready to make a break for the exit, she heard the bleats, roars, and hisses of Regalia behind her. Her hands trembled for a moment, before she made a dash through the flames, using her parasol to shield to keep herself from going up in flames herself. As soon as she was by Regalia, she would scoop the chimera into her arms and struggle against it. Its panic made it hard to really hold her proper, but Nimoa could live with a few scratches and bites. Once more using her parasol as cover, she would dash through the flames with Regalia under her arm, completely burning up the umbrella as she entered the riverbed.

Now without protection from the sun, Nimoa would catch fire as her unholy form struggled against the radiance of day. Shivering, her legs started to buckle, and her arms loosened on Regalia, letting the chimera loose as she fell forward. Resting for a moment amidst the grass, Nimoa curled up, now in pain from the sun’s rays beginning to consume her. 

[color=6ecff6][b]”...It hurts...it hurts so much…”[/b][/color] she would say to herself, crawling as she attempted to get to the shade of a tree.

The sun was bad. It was horrible. It hated her existence when she hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

But that same horrible bad sun was what the humans she loved needed more than anything.
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Tamara took in the situation, then drew Rippa to her hand in a fashion that almost appeared to be summoning magic, before running the blade through her arm; of all emotions, pain was the easiest to summon forth and the strongest after hatred. It swelled inside, the pain wrought by the accursed blade's unfathomable edge, and it seeped free. "[Emotional Purge]...

In a moment, all her pains, fears, guilts, and angers poured from her, and affected the area around them. Just like before, manifesting into a physical medium of a metaphysical ideal. Darkness shrouded the skies, and the sun was made to set for a time, as Tamara turned and walked across the burning river. Multiple paths crossed her mind, but, she selected a singular: save Regalia.

It wasn't for the selfless reason, nor affection, but emotionless requirement. A Chimera, tamed, was a rare element. Raised, even more so. Regalia was an investment of generations, and wouldn't be lost here over the misactions of others and the inaction of herself. 

That was unbecoming of a Paladin.
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As Tristan watched the frisbee of death fly overhead, letting it embed itself in a nearby boulder sitting at the water’s edge, the hero could not help but slap his hand against his face in a facepalm. He had given the shield to Nimoa to help her defend herself from the small chimera pup while he dealt with the real threat, and while he appreciated the upgrade, he was still much more worried for her safety over his own. Especially when her demoness friend appeared to turn the tiny island into glass.

[color=0072bc]“Am I going to get burn scars every day I’m in this world?”[/color] he asked no one in particular. Preparing to jump into the flames to save the young vampire girl, Tristan was stopped by the sight of her kidnapper using a special skill. He wasn’t sure what exactly it did, but anyone could recognize the menacing aura that surrounded her as she slowly approached the sandbank.

Perhaps it was his mistake for assuming the worst, but watching as all emotion drained from Tamara’s face along with the blood leaking from her arm, he mistook her objective to be Nimoa instead. That look in her eye was one of a killer, not a savior. [color=0072bc]“This is going to hurt.”[/color]

Lunging at the powerful woman from behind, Tristan attempted to stab his broken blade into her shoulder, before quickly untangling himself from her to return to Nimoa’s side. With her parasol gone, the hero scooped up the small girl in one arm and carried her to the nearest tree for cover from the deadly laser that was the Sun.

[color=ed1c24]”Fire? I was born of this! Made of this and you shall be ended by it!”[/color] Valkira said smirking as she held up her hand the fire seemingly gathering around her as she smiled at her enemy. [color=ed1c24]“Come you faux paladin it’s your holy duty to end my life isn’t it?”[/color] She asked as she stabbed her sword into the fiery orb causing the blade to ignite in flames as she charged forward. 

[color=CC6699][b]"Aaaaahahahahaha~! You’re all so amusing! This is the best! I can see why Charlotte went on an adventure now."[/b][/color] A voice called out from amidst the flames, apparently paying it absolutely no mind as their silhouette became visible through Valkira’s wall of flames. [color=CC6699][b]"Buuut, I kinda need the samurai alive. So...yeah."[/b][/color] the woman would say, snapping her fingers before a beam of dark magic erupted from her, cleaving the path between Tamara and Valkira in twain, just short of Regalia’s snake tail and behind. The ground itself was gone, as if the beam just devoured it. Another snap, and Tamara suddenly sunk into the ground, a black hole with a violet border swallowing her up as the woman, now visible, [url=https://i.imgur.com/X4rDWMD.png]waved at Valkira, not able to see Tristan over by Nimoa.[/url] [color=CC6699][b]"Tootles!"[/b][/color] she would shout, before vanishing herself.

...Now, the duo of Hero and Demon Lord were left with a slightly burnt vampire child, and a deep sense of unfulfillment. Like as if they were fighting a boss they weren’t meant to win against, still won, but the cutscene insinuated that you super didn’t win.

[color=ed1c24]YOU ARE NOW ON THE TOP OF MY SHIT LIST YOU HEAR THIS IT WILL GO INTO MY REVENGE JOURNAL AND I WILL GET MY REVENGE![/color] Valkira yelled she wasn’t able to enjoy herself or release the full extent of her flames this was utter bullcrap. She would find her later and exact her revenge along with that damn goat. 

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[color=0072bc]“Did she say Charlotte? Goddamnit, I haven’t seen that cursed demon girl for an hour and she’s still indirectly trying to blow me up,”[/color] Tristan grumbled under his breath. With a sigh, he pushed himself up so that his shadow still hung over the vulnerable Nimoa to avoid exposing her to the Sun, but he could now look over the small girl for injuries.

[color=0072bc]“You alright? Anything still hurting?”[/color] the hero asked, once he’s taken in as much information that his eyes alone could discern.

Nimoa’s eyes would flutter open as Tristan’s shadow covered her. The tiny vampire would lift her head. [color=6ecff6][b]”I-I’m okay...thank you…”[/b][/color] she said, struggling to sit up. [color=6ecff6][b]”...Where did the mean lady go…?”[/b][/color] she asked, falling back over after sitting up. 

[color=0072bc]“No clue. People like her don’t stay hidden for long though. Give it enough time and I’m sure she’ll be back,”[/color] Tristan said. Turning his head to the left and then to the right, he searched their surroundings for something to use to replace the girl’s destroyed parasol. While certainly tall, he wasn’t looking to have Nimoa stand in his shadow all day.

Nimoa would rummage through her pack, before simply putting the pack over her head, which, funnily enough, made it look like a giant bat was eating her head. [color=6ecff6][b]”I should be fine like this...sorry if I look silly.”[/b][/color] Nimoa said, looking absolutely stupid. It was literally as if a giant cartoon bat was eating her head, but it certainly helped to keep her out of the sunlight. 

[color=6ecff6][b]”L-Let’s just forget about it for now. We have an alchemist to find!”[/b][/color]

Holding out his hand for Nimoa to take, making sure his fingers brushed by hers so she could know he was offering it, Tristan planned on acting as her guide. After all, he imagined having a small backpack over your head would be extremely impairing for one’s sense of vision. With a nod, he replied, [color=0072bc]“Sounds like a plan.”[/color]

Wordlessly, Nimoa would reach her hand out to hold Tristan’s, trotting along happily as they went off to go find a cartographer. Valkira was free to follow...or hold Nimoa’s other hand. She had two, after all.

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