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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Dmitry

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Dmitry kept looking at the unimpressive rant of the other male student. Everyone made mistakes, no matter the person. Even the Tsar. It was hubris to consider otherwise. He just chose to let the comments go for now, an uninterested expression on his face. "I shall take this lesson to heart, my lady." He said to Lise, not bothering to adress the almost-frothing Andreim. More surprising developments appeared, as the shadow power of the other Valois seemed to startle Lise. Still, the fact that it mentioned a love letter was kinda troublesome.

"I don't remember anything about any love letter, my lady...?" He again said, in confusion. "Tis merely an introductory note to deliver to the princess of Valois in which it states I must serve her. And beg you pardon, I am not a servant of Lady Elise Valois. I shan't object if that is what you really wish, but are you really sure about sending me off? My service could be of some use. I can repair the door Andreim broke in his zeal. And the ground too. And prepare you a new bathroom. The rampage of a servant does reflect poorly on their master."

Dmitry sighed as he eyed Elise, and helped her to maintain her steady gait. "Don't worry, i still support your endeavour, Lady Elise. Love is beautiful." He whispered to the younger-looking of the Valois. Hopefully that brute wouldn't try to stomp her again.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Michael Angie


Michael jotted down everything Diana said about Cel's abilities into his phone, updating the notes he already had on him. Judging from the info he already had, though, he knew Celestine was going to be annoying at the very least, but now it's actually a concern. An already superhuman being possessed by a god... Michael grimaced. It would probably be a very difficult challenge to face Cel alone, but fortunately he wouldn't have to. Already there were people offering to help. He would have to review his fellow Vigilantes' skills and abilities, and formulate some plans.

"As long as I get paid, I am willing to help," Michael said, stepping forward. "Besides, I owe this Witch of Bones a debt or two myself. Tell us how we can assist."
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Melanie and Diana

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Diana shook significantly, being caught off guard by Andras' sudden invasion of her personal space. She tried to protest and push her away, but it was no use. The other girl's touch made her extremely limp and uncomfortable, sending her into some sort of tonic immobility like an opossum. "...I'm ...not." She managed to say before she was completely overwhelmed.

After a few moments of silence, she managed to gather enough strength to utter an almost whispered "Thank you."

It was then when a second voice stated her opinion. "Objects of beauty must be preserved and not be destroyed. Cats... are to be included." Melanie added, thoughtful. She eyed Andras.

And smiled. No, that was not accurate. She grinned.

"Specially a cute little kitty like this one." Her golden eyes shimmered with a vigor never seen, as opposed by her usual self.

"You..." Diana managed to say.

"Well, it's free real state, my little necromancer!" Not-Melanie said.
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Lise


Lise stopped to hear Dmitry's explanation. "Though your eagerness to serve is noted, you should know that the servants within House Valois-Saint-Remy have earned their place from generations of service." She said, turning back to the boy, "However, I suppose I can consider you as a provisional servant, in order to undo these most recent damages. But know that I will dismiss you the moment you no longer provide any use for me."

Lise turned away once more. "Now, I expect you to begin your service by helping my dear cousin. I have to attend to my... wardrobe." Lise was trying to stop her face from burning red, but that was of course an impossibility. She had to get off of the street as soon as possible, so she began walking away, hoping for no further interruptions.

Andras

Andras was at least somewhat surprised that Diana did not try harder to break away from her. Andras was somewhat braced for a push, or perhaps even Diana trying something more devious to get out of her embrace, like stomping on Andras's foot. But instead the witch seemed to loosen up in Andras's arms. If the previous explanation of what had happened with The Fallen One hadn't concerned Andras, this loss of composure definitely did. But soon the moment passed, as Melanie spoke up again... And smiled?

Andras looked bewildered at the change in Melanie. She quickly looked around at everyone else, trying to find an explanation. "Melanie, are you feeling all right...?"
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Michael Angie


Michael raised an eyebrow at Diana's current behavior, curious at her drastic change of character compared to how Michael typically saw her. She always seemed so... adult-like. So sure of herself, with the knowledge and skills to back it up. Guess there was a vulnerable side to her as well. To bring that out, Celestine must have really screwed up... Michael thought to himself, shaking his head. Wait, why do I feel so annoyed? This isn't like me...

Gathering his thoughts, Michael returned to the present only to find another odd situation at hand. Looking over at Melanie, Michael began to say, "Mela... no, you're not her..." Melanie never had emotions, on account of having no soul, apparently. Michael's mind flashed back to the day at the infirmary, when Diana had been possessed by some cheerful entity. Right now, not-Melanie was showing the same personality. "You're the one back then, at the infirmary during the cultist attack," Michael guessed. It did also bring up an interesting weakness to Melanie now: being an empty vessel, it seemed she was susceptible to being hijacked by other entities looking to inhabit others. Without even looking, Michael took out his phone and began to jot down this piece of information.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Ria

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Ria was honestly kind of reeling from everything. A god. A god?

"A god..."

She glanced over at Nas. His hand was cupped under his chin, and his eyes lifted to stare at the ceiling of the chapel and probably through it to the sky beyond. He turned to look in a certain direction, smiling in a weird and broken manner. "We get to fight a god." He said, in an awed half-whisper.

She knew that look. He wasn't going to be following the conversation much anymore.

It made what happened next all the more shocking, because she couldn't just tell him to wrestle the bitch.

As the change in their soul deprived friend became apparent Ria took a step back. You didn't need magic super eyes to tell who it was. Even Michael could see it easily. "If it isn't miss touchy-feely." She said, puffing out her chest in defiant fearlessness. "You're still spooking around, huh?"

She looked at Andras. "Right, you weren't there for this part. It turned out Diana here has a passenger. She popped up during the cultist fight, like Michael said." She looked back to the possessed Melanie. "So, to what do we owe the pleasure? Do you have something important to add or could you just not resist our Mel's brand of creepy innocence?"





@Hammerman

Seeking the distress pooling in the corner of her sisters eyes made her put an immediate kibosh on any playacting. "Oh gods, no, Christine." She said, rushing up. "No, it's okay. I was just goofing on this girl from my school. The one from TV. You've met her, at the apartment. She ditched me back then, I wanted to give her some grief for it."

She brought up one of those poofy cuffs out her wrist and used it to gently dab as Christine's tears. "See, I'm still me." She was an idiot. Of course Christine wouldn't want her putting on a show of being someone else, not so close after what happened. It made her feel sick to think she hadn't considered that.

You're not the only one. How dare you make me feel this way?

"Sorry." She said.
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“O-Oh…”

Christine paused her sobbing. As quickly as it went, her smile returned.

“The girl from your school? And the one that appeared on TV? O-oh, you mean Lise? That’s her name, wasn’t it?” she asked her. “The one that invited us to the ball?”

She turned the gears in her brain, trying to recall how she looked and sounded like.

"Oh, her!" A lightbulb turned on in her brain. "Now, I remember!”

“And yes, you sounded exactly like her, Sis!” She giggled. “It’s quite uncanny, really!”

The way Kath did it, it made her attitude and pretense of nobility sound… comical, which Christine did not realize until she pointed it out by her mimicking the girl.

“Oh, no problem, Sis! No problem at all! You don’t have to apologize in the slightest!” Christine returned her apology. “It’s me who overreacted after all!”
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Melanie and Diana

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Not-Melanie kept on smiling, as she tried to pry Diana out of Andra's arms, her eyes looking Ria up and down. "It was pragmatism, miss Sunshine..." The being who was in control of Melanie chuckled so slightly. It felt wrong. "After all, our dear...brave witch is more adept at riding solo. Tis' a pity. Magicians make the finest vessels." She added, as she extender her hand, and something began to materialize from it. It wasn't Melanie's power. It felt... way darker, as if it was connecting with some other place. Mists began to flow, engulfing Melanie's figure as some sort of shadowy, billowing cloak.

And then It took form in Not-Melanie's hand. The essence of Death itself. Most people would see a Scythe. Kings would see a Sword. But everyone would see it as the Reaper's weapon it was. "But to fight a god... you might as well need a little help from a Moira like me. I'm usually in charge of ... terminating life projects, but you people are -highly- amusing."

"And your opponent will be no slouch." She added, looking at the still irresponsive Diana.




Blackgate Household


Hands traced the still hot and tender figure, as the aroma of carnal pleasure permeated the room. The demon of desire felt giddy, as she soon realized her newest machination had borne fruit. Just needed a little more of time and...

"Moom, are the cookies done yet?" said the shrill voice of the flying ten-year old, half demon, half little girl. All obnoxious. That was Annah, sibling of Meredith and Zack. She and her twin brother were spending some quality time with the matriarch of the house. Mona knew how to pamper the siblings well. They were her most... pliable and prized children of the lot. Perhaps, in this kind of backwards situation, things were sometimes going her way.

Playing with that boy hero had also been highly amusing. He had never expected her blows, to be honest, and seeing the bravado chafe under the inability to go until the bitter end. So unlike someone she knew. Well, probably that sort of wishy washy personality had rubbed off on her eldest, but she had always been a papa's kid, that one. She never knew whether to hate or love herself that one.

"Just a bit more, Annah." She cooed. And then the doorbell rang. Nyxdaemona, strutting full of pride went to open the door. Maybe it was some kind of friend or mail. Her expression soured slightly when she found some scrawny teenager... girl...boy thing. He had also some kind of sword replica at the hip, and was wearing a mask. Gods, this one was worse than the eyepatch girl who called herself a Demon Lady.

"Yes? I'm a bit busy."

"Oh, pardon me... madam." The boy said in a melodious voice. "I am currently conducting a small survey for my... teacher."

"Ok, Fine. What's this about?"

"Oh, just pollution. Don't you feel there's... a bit more of it these days?" The teenager said.

"Is that a question, or a statement?" Mona decided she wasn't liking this idiot goodie two shoes, but it wasn't like she couldn't claw his eyes out after tearing his mask.

"Just small talk, because I truly... don't like doing this." The boy answered.

"...You'd like to play hero with that thing at your hip? Be careful to not cut yourself."

"I try not to. Being cut... sucks." The boy droned. "I'm...actually looking for Alex."

"Alex?"

"Or you know... Demon lady Andras, whatever." This boy was really wasting her time. Nyxdaemona sighed at him, before turning her back on it.
"Haven't seen her on a while. Went with that boy's girl tick or whatever. Now if you'll excuse, I need to feed my children." She added, grumbling. It was then when her hair stood on her back. She should have never let the lad out of her sight. She felt something incredibly dangerous. She had to move. Her legs, as if possesed by springs, jumped at the last second the breeze hit her. The adrenaline made her felt light.

Her dismembered left arm helped too. She eyed the severed limb with incredulity, as she identified that in fact, that weapon the boy was carrying was not a toy, but a tool of murder... in the capable hands of someone able to making a skilled fast draw.

"What...are you." She snarled, as the boy took his sweet time to enter the house and close the door after him, his tranquility was eerie, knowing she was facing a wounded and angry demon. But still... that aura... it felt on the same level as his husband.

"A sloppy.. assasin it seems. Can't even take some demonic trash. But don't you worry. Your kids... I will feed them your cookies." Celestine Lightbringer said as he kept walking towards Mona. He reeled, as some of the glyphs hit him. Mind-control ones? Utterly useless. He answered in kind, a throwing dart lodging in her gut. Mona didn't feel anything, except her own body becoming limp and dead quickly.

"Uh, I guess that much of conotoxin works on fiends." The masked assaulter gloated before quickly closing in the gap, and putting the sword to her neck. It was then when he was greeted by two snarling bat-winged kids, spouting half-snarling threats. "Ah hell." The assassin added. "Uhuh, don't move. You probably don't want mother dearest to lose weight upwards the neck, don't you?" The masked slicer added. "But since things have turned this way... I will let you choose, Hell's best mom. One of your crotchspawn, and I will leave you alone. How's the sound of that? Or you know... you could die."

Nyxdaemona panicked so slightly, and tried to form words."Z..za.." Zack. He was a bit meeker than Anna. Not a good fit for a demon of seduction. She could always have more. Yes, maybe that was a solution to regroup and turn the tables on this perp, maybe she could...

Her trains of thought stopped as she noticed how bloody her body was, and the stump of her neck was bleeding heavily.

"Wrong answer, mom. Really wrong answer." Celestine snarled, as he looked at his handiwork. One filthy demon less in the world. But those little brats were about to get ballistic. He stood up and analyzed the situation, before wiping the sword of the filthy creature's blood.

"Best is about to happen, lil brats." He added. "Take cover...if you can." He eyed the situation, his eyes bleeding under his mask, as he realized, computed, and analyzed. The solution was beneath him all the time. He took one of his knives, and threw it accurately.

It hit the lightbulb.

Then the stove ignited., causing a pipe to begin pooling water in more electrical circuits.

By now the fire would extend to the main pipe and the electrical shortcircuit would propagate it to the nearby buildings. Celestine took a run for the door, as the two alarmed demon kids forgot about their vengeance and darted past him.

No less than three houses exploded.

Celestine brushed out the dirt of his clothes, and looked once more at the terrified, fleeing demon twins. Well, they weren't his target, anyway. He noticed, amidst the light ringing and concussion, one of the so called cookies in the ground.

"It tastes...burnt." He finished, before getting out of the scene before the witnesses and the police could piece what was going on.

Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by CavnderOHeart
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Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by Scarifar
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Michael Angie

"So let us formulate a plan, then," Michael replied to Moira, his phone at the ready to write down and cross out ideas. Michael gave Moira's weapon an up-down look, wondering about its capabilities, but a more careful examination would have to come at a later time. "We are apparently fighting a god that has inhabited a human body. A man that can observe movements and copy them with a single study, and can even predict our movements. In other words, it may be safe to assume that physical combatants will be quickly outmatched."

"I do have a proposal: I can use my ability of Artwork to stop Cel," Michael said, summoning his paintbrush into his hand. "Given enough coverage, my ink can seal away a person's powers. Admittedly, I'm not sure what effect that will have on the god residing within him, or if it will even work on a god. If anyone else has any ideas, I'm open to any."
Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Ria

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"Yeah, but he's not just gonna hold still while you try that." Ria said, leaning in.

"I'll hold him still." Has said confidently.

"Have you been listening? He'd pluck you in two seconds."

"I can get more if he can't sense my chi." Has said. Ria was surprised. She hadn't thought he'd even think about this. "He can predict only based on that which he can perceive, correct? If he can not feel the chi moving in my body a sudden boost in speed and attack power would throw off his perceptions, if only for a moment. If I can hold him then, Brutus may be able to tag him with one of his lightning lures. It doesn't matter how he dodges then, the lightning would find him. With electricity pouring through his nerves it would be difficult for him to resist as Michael's painted over him. If the power is what the god is using to puppet him, then sealing it away should free his mind."

"Yeah, okay. But that all falls apart if you don't get a hold of him." Ria said.

Nas thought for a moment. "I would have a stronger chance if something completely blindsided him. An attack coming from beyond his visual range, so quickly that it outpaces the sound of it being launched."

"You want an anti-tank rifle?"

"Or something similar. Something enchanted, perhaps. Of course, the gleam of a scope could still give the shooter away so we'd need someone with the eyes of a god to launch the attack."

Ria didn't enjoy the look the bird was giving her.

"Of course, there are other ways. Traps, any strange thing Andras can pull to slow him down or weaken him. Monsters that Diana can call up. Melanie can surprise him by pulling out any manner of thing. This, of course, would rely upon him only being able to sense the physical world. If he can also feel the work of magic now this strategy has failed before its even begun. Do you think that may be the case, witch?"





@Hammerman

Katherine breathed a sigh of relief, pulling off her mask and hanging it from her arm. "That's good. Still, maybe there's a better way to go about that." She tapped the rod against her chin. "When your friends want to take petty revenge how do they do it? I can't imagine what sort of pranks that go on at your school."
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hammerman
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"Pranks, huh?" Christine tilted her head. "Hmmm, pranks… there certainly aren't a short supply of those in my school… Guys would often steal girls' panties in their lockers while they took their swimming class, while girls would put gums and write bad letters on the seats and tables of other girls' they don't like… guys also like to pull down other guys' pants, usually in front of the girls…" she answered.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by AtomicNut
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Meredith and Woof

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Unrelenting. Craving. Predatory. Her opponent had no chance of escaping, as Meredith struck with a firm hand. It did not scream for mercy. It couldn't. Sweets were notorious for being helpless before the half-demon's cravings. She took a mouthful of the pancake, carefully avoiding the thick syrup to fall on the very big target that was beneath the mouth. Although the bit she had just was slightly smaller than she used to and she did have more wriggle room than before, she still was head over heels for sweets. Meredith eyed Wolf intently for a second. "This is good." She added, after swallowing. "But there is one big issue"

Wolf looked up from his food. It was less... sugary than Meredith's. Unfortunately, he was fully human and had a warrior's physique to maintain.

Not that anyone would guess at a glance due to his smaller than average frame.

"Um, what?" Most people wouldn't have been immediately worried, but, well, this was Meredith talking. Wolf felt like he had 99 problems and Meredith was 99% of them. He'd been hoping they were done with "issues" for the day.

Meredith just looked at Wolf, smiling coyly before leaning forward and pulling her phone out of her pocket. "Selfie!" She added. "We lacked one, Woofie." she finished as she took the snapshot rather quick.

If the picture was cute, it was only because Meredith was. You know, when she wasn't giving into her demonic tendencies and trying to kill people. Wolf meanwhile had the classic deer in the headlights look of one who'd been totally caught off guard.

". . . was. . . was the the issue?" Wolf blinked, still a little dazed from the sudden photographic assault.

"It seems as if it looks we are cheating on your girlfriend. So i just invited her." Meredith added. "With the picture. Probably won't answer otherwise."

Wolf didn't answer her. He had to process this. She was just joking, right? There was no way she'd just pull this kind of stunt. If this was real, then Vera would have a full-blown nuclear meltdown. No, he'd probably just misheard her and she was teasing him or something. The ramifications of it otherwise were... disconcerting. Here he was trying to act like he could keep an eye on or even control Meredith, and she was sneaking around and pulling stuff like this right in front of him. It was full minutes before Wolf actually managed to speak.

"Wh-what?" It wasn't exactly profound.

Meredith's expression was surprisingly neutral, before she resumed her pancake eating. "Wolf, relax. It's not like we are doing something forbidden, nor you are being unfaithful. You can't seriously expect me to believe Vera Goh is scarier than mother." She paused. " What can she do you in the end, break up with you? I am the one far more at risk here. But it does not compare to losing half of your face. "

Exactly. She could break up with him. A fear that he was sure no one else would ever understand considering how poorly the two seemed to get along. Hell, he wasn't sure he understood it himself. Regardless, if it were to happen, he didn't want it to happen like this over some stupid misunderstanding. They'd been through too much together at this point.

He didn't answer Meredith at all this time, just sort of zoning out and waiting.

They didn't have to wait long.

Suddenly the door to the little diner was practically kicked open.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!?" Vera's shrill voice filled the building, drowning out and silencing every other conversation. So deafening was her scream that no doubt even the inanimate toasters were startled and someone would be getting some badly burned toast.

Wolf jolted in his seat and then quickly jumped up and ran over to Vera, putting his hand over her mouth and dragging her outside before she caused any more of a scene.

The second they stopped she ripped his hand off her mouth.

"Are you insane?!" she berated him.

"N-no, I-"

"You're really just hanging out and getting breakfast together now?! How can you trust her!?" She was relentless and only getting angrier with each passing second. "You need to cut her loose!"

"Well ignoring her caused this in the first place!" Wolf countered.

"Excuse me?!" Vera jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "Does that excuse her being a murderer!?"

"Sh-she's not a-"

"SHE TRIED TO BE!" Vera was straight up screaming again. "And in case you forgot, SHE WAS TRYING TO KILL ME!"

"B-but-" Wolf was at a loss. How did one argue against that?
"A-and you're just... when I... i-is that all I-" And with hardly any time to process what she'd just thrown at him, and long before his ears could stop ringing, she just started crying.

His first cynical thought was that she was just putting on a show to manipulate him and get her way, but it didn't fit. One thing he really did appreciate about her, for better or worse, was her unfailing, cold, brutal, almost cruel, honesty. She spoke her mind without hesitation in a world where she was helpless before people who could vaporize her with a thought.

Of course he usually ended up having to fight any battles she started, but he was pretty sure she usually didn't mean to actually start a fight. Though, when she did, she usually considered that a win on her part.

It was around then that an older couple left the diner, casting dirty looks at Wolf on their way by. One could only imagine what they were thinking.

"Wh-what the fuck are you looking at, huh!? FUCK OFF!" Vera caught it too and quickly reminded them to mind their own business. Their expressions turned to pitying disgust before hurrying off.
It was at this point that Wolf threw caution to the wind. At the end of the day, as weird as their relationship was, she was still his girlfriend and she was still upset. So... why not just hug her?

"Wh-wh-what are you-" Vera froze up.

"Um... you were upset?" Wolf swallowed hard.

"Am... I am upset..." she muttered. "L-let go!" He quickly did so, but she actually did seem calmer. Her face was red, but Wolf assumed it was from crying. "F-fine, explain, fast!"

"Meredith is my friend, but I... sorta neglected her. Her mother is literally a demon and I wasn't there to support her. That's... all I've got." Wolf shrugged helplessly.

". . . If this gets me killed I hope you suffer for the rest of your life." Vera narrowed her eyes.

"I. . . I wouldn't let her-"

"Like how you wouldn't let me get kidnapped?" He flinched. "It's not always that easy."

"I just don't want to think she's a lost cause."

"Whatever. It's not up to me apparently..." Astonishingly, it seemed she'd given in. Wolf would never understand why, but he'd take it.

Meredith eyed the couple from her half finished stack of pancakes. She eyed the fight with a keen gaze, and flinched upon being called a murderer. Well she did not call the cops, good. The other people in the restaurant would write it as an outburst. Now she needed to move things forward.

"I was a heinous bitch to you and I am truly sorry. Do not take it on your boyfriend. He is kind beyond any sort of common sense."

Vera ground her teeth together as she was forced to stand in the presence of Meredith as she joined them outside.

"Clearly..." she growled. "And personally, I'd say that's letting you off easy." Vera could think of a lot of other, more vile and accurate things to call her.

Wolf wanted to play peacekeeper, he really did, but how did one even go about asking someone to be nicer to the person who'd basically hired a hitman to kidnap them? In the end, he just sort of fidgeted and hoped they would at least keep things somewhat civil, as icy as it might be.

"Well yes. Disregarding the fact today someone melted half of my face off pulling a prank and i am basically a gopher for a youth detective. I am done making excuses. " Meredith added. "And i got really busy when i helped fighting the cultists after that Lightbringer cut my throat." She put a hand to her hip. "And Wolf clearly doesn't want to give up on me. He went to see mother, alone."

"Great. Well none of that undoes or will ever undo what he did to me because of you," Vera spat. Then she fully processed what Meredith had said. "Wait you did WHAT?!"

"I-I... sort of... confronted her mother about how she's been influencing Meredith..." Wolf mumbled. It sounded really dumb after just plainly stating how the woman was a literal demon.

"Alone?!"

"A-alone..."

"You really do have no sense."

"A-apparently..." Wolf sighed. Well, it had kind of worked out when you thought about it.

"I know. But he is riff raff when one comes to think about it. And Wolf nearly trashed him. He was kind of scary seeing him snap. " Meredith say. "Well if you really want to hold a grudge forever be my guest. Personally i am tired and sick of it. I even paid back that throat slicer, Lightbringer."

"Good, because all you've done is finally give me a real reason to hate you." Vera had never been the most forgiving person. "Backstabbers don't earn back their trust in a week." Personally, she didn't see why she should ever trust Meredith or get over this. She'd been Wolf's closest friend, but that hadn't stopped her from going full psycho and betraying them.

"M-maybe... we should stop. For now," Wolf suggested. There was no way in hell Vera was going to come to terms with this any time soon. That fact that she'd stopped calling for Meredith's head was an achievement all on its own. Forgiveness... was a pipe dream.

Meredith raised an eyebrow as she walked towards Vera, her face beaming one of those smiles not unlike her mother as she came within inches of her. "I wish you a long fruitful relationship. I care not about your forgiveness. I only ask for one thing. Make my best friend, brave and kind to a fault, be happy. "

"Wh-what? I-I-I don't... Y-you have no right t-to-" Vera stammered, unsure how to respond. She couldn't bring herself to outright say no in front of Wolf. As difficult as their relationship was, she'd never straight to his face suggested she wanted to make him miserable. Despite what people might think, she didn't date people with the express intent of torturing them.

That said, she didn't exactly want to say yes to Meredith, if only because it was Meredith.

"W-well why don't you look at yourself, first!" She crossed her arms and looked away. If anyone had been making Wolf unhappy lately, it was the half-demon herself!

Meanwhile Wolf was on red alert as mental alarm bells rung. Meredith was acting very non-Meredith at the moment. The one thing he did know was how his friend normally acted, and he was seeing little things that were more like how her mother acted... which was bad.

But she didn't seem to be doing anything. Yet.

Meredith's smile only grew wider, as she looked at the usual imposing Vera faltering and stammering, only to answer with a weak retort. Exploiting the fact that she had turned her gaze away, she shot a wink of complicity towards Wolf. She then wrapped her arms around Vera softly. "Oh, you want to give me a chance for him to be happy with me? How ...nice of you. Perhaps we can share. It could work, you're a looker yourself." Meredith whispered softly as she tried to nuzzle closer to her.

Time froze for Vera as Meredith hugged her. At fist it was just shock, but then it was revulsion. The last person she wanted touching her was Meredith. OK fine, that was Galbrek, but Meredith was a close second. The list of people she was OK with touching her, period, these days was extremely short.

And then time resumed.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" She began frantically trying to pry Meredith off her. Vera's reaction from the outside seemed extreme, but on the inside Vera was still holding back. Before Meredith could tighten the embrace, Vera did finally worm free. "You know damn well that's not what I meant! If you ever touch me again I'll claw your eyes out!"

Vera had hit her limit and stomped away, unable to look at Meredith anymore.

"Let her go..." Wolf spoke up before Meredith got any more ideas.

"It was never my intention to retain her." Meredith added, as she let her go in a tone. "I guess I went a little too far. Let me apologize at the very least." Meredith added, before she ran after Vera.

For the second time that day, Wolf grew at least half a spine.

He grabbed Meredith firmly by the arm before she could get far.

"No. I don't know if you really care about apologizing, but don't do it now. It won't accomplish anything. Leave her alone." He might not have understood Meredith anymore, and even Vera felt a little off as of late, but he knew her well enough to know that if Meredith spoke to her again, she was going to go nuclear. And maybe, just maybe, his protective instincts had kicked in.

Meredith did not reply to Wolf immediatedly, instead just clenched her teeth and powered through the boy's attempt to stop her. "Come hell or high water, I will apologize, Wolfram. Even if you drive a sword through me. Or are you saying i should let this stew and have her get the wrong idea about everything? " She added , as she firmly grasped Wolf in response and began to run dragging him too.

Why did she have to be so damn strong? At this point he almost did consider stabbing her to slow her down. She'd live, right? But no, that was a bit extreme. He considered using an armor or a weapon, but that seemed extreme too.

"D-do you want me to trust you again or not?!" Wolf suddenly snapped. "Trust me when I say this will only make things worse! You're not helping!" He didn't want to have to guilt her, but he also needed to find SOME way to... control her? He didn't like the thought that he had to somehow keep control of Meredith like some sort of wild animal, but lately all she did was sow chaos.

Meredith suddenly stopped at his words. "I know. But i can't bear the thought of my misgivings being taken on you. I guess I must deal with it." She paused and faced Wolf, before pulling out her cellphone. "This is Alexander's number. William's brother. He is chaperoning me because of my misgivings. One call is all you need, and I will be locked forever. Do tell her."

". . . I know how things look from where you're standing, between Vera and I, and maybe sometimes it really is how it looks, but... yeah she's gonna be grumpy because she knows you're around, but she's not going to think I'm betraying her or something. We... have that going for us, at least." Honestly, Wolf had never thought that deeply about his relationship with Vera before. Part of him hadn't wanted to analyze it, afraid of what conclusions he might draw.

That said, Vera was honest. He liked to think he was too. There was a comfort in the fact that there was a certain level of trust there. He never really had to guess too much about what was going on.

He looked down at the number presented to him. Locked? Forever? Wasn't it the perfect solution? If anything, Meredith had made her own decisions. Even if he didn't use it now, and why would he, wasn't it the ultimate back-up plan? She'd brought herself to this point, mother's influence or not.

But he couldn't. He didn't want to be tempted. Somehow the memories of their shared childhood still outweighed her sins.

"Thank you..." He pushed the phone away, back toward Meredith without copying the number. "Yeah, maybe I feel like I need to reign you in. I'm still... nervous, but... I don't want to be holding a gun to your head." It might have only been her powers, he assumed, but... even so, how could he rebuild trust if he refused to give her any?
"I'll tell Vera you wanted to apologize later. I... doubt it will do anything, but I will," he finally relented.

Meredith just stood there, looking at her phone, then at Wolf. Then at the phone. It seemed like a weight came off her shoulders as she slumped slightly. "It's fine. I never had the most stable life. " She added, as she leant and picked up a small discarded pebble. Her index claw suddenly stretched, as she carved a glyph on it, drawing blood from her lip, and then tossed it to Wolf. "Sleep charm, surely you recognize this. Could be helpful with nightmares."

"Thanks..." Wolf took it. Nightmares. Well, he couldn't claim he never had them anymore, but it had been a while since the worst of them. "Look, I should check on Vera, but... we'll talk again soon, I promise." It was a promise he intended to keep -- for all their sakes.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Katherine quirked her head to the side, looking at her Christine curiously. "Not gonna lie, that's a lot more standard than what I was expecting." Still, the classics were classic for a reason. She cupped her own chin. "As fun as it'd be to expose someone else for a change I'm pretty sure Andriem would crucify me for even thinking about it. Though maybe if I pull his pants down in front of Lise..."

She tried to imagine both of their reactions to that, and laughed to herself. Oh, she hoped at least one of them passed out. "Oh thank you so much." she said excitedly. "By the way," she asked, switching gears. "Do you do swim?"

This was a question partly because she needed to know if there were some people she had to add to her shit list. Anyone that would go around trying to steal her sisters only piece of modesty was someone that needed a stern talking to and maybe some third degree burns. There was another reason, though, and it was simply that Katherine had no idea that they even had a pool over there. She didn't really know anything about that place, or what Christine's life was like over there. "Like, are you in any extracurricular stuff? You're having fun, right?"




Mephisto's Mending


Normally, is a situation much like this, where the students were running rampant, Bak would try and go out to establish order. She could already tell that no student was going to be taking classes seriously with all these fliers covering the school grounds, and the teachers that usually ended up here didn't particularly care to stop them. It would basically be a free day now unless she did something about it.

But she just felt so defeated.

"This is all well then. Meeting adjourned." She said. Cel and the new girl where already getting ready to leave, Vernon was gone and Rurik was...sleeping, legs kicked up in that chair she'd slid him. At least that was comfortingly reliable.

In the end she hadn't been able to do much of anything after all and the situation turned out much worse than she'd thought judging from the fact St.Laurel's had helicopters circling them now.

She trudged back over to Luigi, and tried looking at the bright side. "At least now you have privacy to work, da?"

Yuuto crouched at his perch, silent as ever. He was very fortunate that his clan from a young age taught techniques for controlling one's breathing and other aides to prevent detection. While Yuuto didn't care to exactly use these techniques on his supposed allies, he also felt fit to play the role of loyal lackey to Clara until he had more solid evidence to present to Mephisto. And so, as Bak walked over to Luigi again, Yuuto sat and watched. He wasn't sure where his concern for the mechanical girl came from, but it was there. Perhaps it was that Yuuto saw her as too innocent for the darker dealings in the world and wanted to try and protect that as much as possible. Perhaps it was that he had grown to see her as a friend. Either way, he stayed and watched, like a guardian angel of sorts. Y'know, other than the fact that his angel was more like an Angel of Death, willing to kill to accomplish its goals.

uigi sighed deeply, and pulls over a chair for Bak to sit down in. "Please...sit...this will take a bit. The wound.....err......damage, worries me...." Luigi begins, as he starts to reach into his clothing, pulling out spools of wire, bits of metal plating, and other various tools of his trade. "It's disturbingly close to gangrene, how the metal in your launcher reacted to the trauma...liquefying like dead flesh. I'll clean it out and repair it, so healing can properly commence....and..if I may be so nosey, how did this happen?" Luigi asked as he started to clean off a wire brush.

Bak leaned herself gingerly onto the chair, careful to keep most of her weight on her legs so it didn't collapse under her weight. It was weird to hear that anything metal about her had reacted like flesh. Usually it was the other way around: a hurt spot got a little more metal.

"I am not sure." She said, concerned. "It was after to cult people appeared, in arena. The big man was coming to crush Rurik and there was this... What is word? Like an itch, but nice. It crawled up my back, and went into missile I think because when I shot missile to stop bad man instead of exploding there was... Bubble? It was nice bubble. I thought everything would be all right in bubble. And then missile pod threw up and has been strange ever since." She looked around the room to make sure no one was spying, listening keenly to the anarchy outside, then whispered. "Not as many missiles. Is why I have not been using them. Do not tell."

This was the first time she'd revisited this memory since it happened. It had been a weird incident. She wasn't sure exactly what the bubble had done even, but for all the world it felt like it had saved their lives. "Why did it hurt me then?" She wondered aloud. "It did not feel like it."

".......You've must of adapted a new ammo type for the situation, or maybe your blessing mutated under the stress. Either way, an exceptionally interesting thing." Luigi whispers as he worked. Slowly he begins to repair the launcher, patches of metal, wires, sparks move in a blur as his robotic tendrils worked in tandem to make this a quick procedure. "I do apologize my dear, I had tried to get to the arena when I smelled the insanity going on. I was delayed by a group of cultists, luckily a demonic woman came to my rescue after I had received a lethal wound. I managed to reduce one of the cultists to a pile of ground beef with a well placed grenade, but by that time the cultists were sent into a mass retreat. The demon girl, Mer, I believe her name was, took one of the cultists off like a hawk having snatched a mouse. Next time, I'll be prepared for such an event. Next time, I will be ready to cut a swath." Luigi grumbles, obviously unhappy.

"You what!?!" Bak said, craning her neck to see if she could spot where the machinist might have taken such a wound. "Where? Are you okay?|

Luigi sees Bak trying to twist her neck to see, and with a sigh he gently tugs on the collar of his shirt and leans, letting her see where a series of deep claw marks could be seen on his chest, intersecting right over where one would expect his heart to be. "The wound would of killed me in sixty seconds after the fight ended, as one of my blessing's powers allow my gear to function after critical damage, including me. However, she managed to use healing magic to restore me to working order before then. Had she not, my initial plan was to barrel through the arena towards where I thought the fighting was most intense." He explains, before he registers the last question. "........I'm ok."

"I had no idea." Bak said, her face visibly hardening as her eyes traced the marked left by some other cult monster. She hadn't even known that Luigi had been in danger. She tuned away regretfully. "We owe a lot to demon girl. If I had known I would have thanked her more."

She was silent for a bit, watching the tendrils go about their busy work, before she said, "My shoulder cameras are burnt out too. Brutus got me with a big zap, like last time. Knocked them out." She fidgeted uncomfortable for a bit, knocking her head slowly back and forth as though literally rolling what she was about to ask in her head. Finally some internal debate seemed to settle. "Luigi, how much of...this....," she waved her hand in a general way over her head, over the backpack, careful not to bump Luigi with one of her guns while he was working. "Could you make better? Better than it is?"

Luigi was a bit set back at Bak's request for upgrades, eyebrows raising in surprise. "Bak, you're a wonder. A perfect fusion of mechanical power and the human form. The only thing I could really do is help bypass your lethality curse." Luigi says, as he works on repairing the cameras now that their damages were made apparent. ".....Brutus needs to be more gentle with you. Seeing you in such disrepair pains me. You don't deserve this." Luigi says, in his exhaustion and stress forgetting to think rather than speak.

"Brutus should be hitting harder if he is wanting to keep monster like me down. You should have seen how I paid him back." Bak said, confidence briefly flaring up in an attempt to banish Luigi's worry while pointedly ignoring any notion of her being a wonder. "I was very mean to vigilantes. Monster can not complain about how sharp the heroes sword is, especially when monster is winner of battle. If I am not worrying so much about it you should not let it trouble you like that."

"....Monster, I never got why you called yourself that." Luigi mutters, more than loud enough for Bak to hear. He began to polish up his work, nearing the end of his repairs on Bak's damaged systems. "You're possibly the nicest person in this whole damned school. A lot nicer than me, by any stretch. Could you try moving this arm up?" Luigi asks, gently poking Bak's right arm. "I need to make sure I haven't buggered your range of movement with one of the repairs. If it starts to hurt, lower it slowly, don't jerk your arm down, it'll make it worse." He says, worried that some wiring might get pinched.

Bak obeyed, slowly raising up her arm just in case he felt anything hurt while looking questioningly at Luigi? Nicest person in the school? Her? Did he see what she did all day? "That is just not at all true. I have seen the way people will approach you. Students hate me. That is proof enough which of us is nicer."

"...Have you ever heard of Baba Yaga?" she asked thoughtfully. "Is legendary monster in my country. Ugly old woman, with bony legs and giant beak nose, bird talon hands and iron teeth. She flies around at night in the forest on mortar, pushing herself along with giant pestle and laughing." She tilted her head to the ceiling and cupped a hand around her mouth before letting out a quiet witchy cackle that quickly devolved into immature giggling. This was a subject she clearly enjoyed. "My Papa would tell me stories of her, how if you heard this laughing in the woods you hould stay inside for the night, because she was capricious and if you met her there was no telling what would happen. Sometimes she would whisk you away to boil your bones for broth, or throw flaming skull at you so all that would be left in morning was pile of ash. But other times she would help you, give you a cow skull that would do your housework in the night or tell you a secret that would destroy your enemies or make you rich. One time one of Papa's friends from revolution came to visit, and I heard him tell Papa that during the worst of the fighting he had met Baba Yaga while trapped in blown out building. In exchange for his left arm and three of his toes Baba Yaga gave him egg that made him invincible so long as it did not break."

"Is difficult to explain how the people think about her. She is strongest of all monsters. Everyone hates her, everyone is afraid of her, but you can not help but respect her. You can not help telling story about her. Children play games where one pretends to be her a and tries to get all the others. People sing songs about her. There is entire ballet dedicated to her, and I have seen it, and it is beautiful! You can hate her all you wish, but you can not just... just ignore her. To live in Yekateria is to live with Baba Yaga, and she does not even care! Nothing you do will ever hurt her. No matter how you feel about her she will always be there, grinning back at you!"

She suddenly realized just how loud she'd gotten in her excitement and clapped her free hand over her jaw, silencing herself with a metallic clang and looking down at Rurik to make sure she hadn't woken him up. Sighing with relief at him still apparently snoring away, she relaxed a little and continued more quietly, lowering her arm. "When I heard stories about Baba Yaga, with her bird hands and iron teeth, I could not help but think that once upon a time she was just village girl. Like me. It made me feel...better?"

Yuuto, at first, hadn't planned on staying this long. However, getting to see an interaction like this... well, he certainly had gained a new perspective on Bak Tsarevna, that was for sure. It was certainly not to be expected, nor was Luigi's protectiveness. Huh. Yuuto guessed that it was behind locked doors that people showed their weaker sides. Oh, sure, the seeming sadness of her story tugged at Yuuto's heart strings, but he shoved those feelings aside with practiced ease. Ninja like him weren't humans. They were tools, to be used by their superiors and tossed aside when they could no longer serve their purpose. And, unlike Bak, Yuuto had no fairy tale to make himself feel better.

Luigi went to speak, to rebuke the notion just because people went to Luigi for help, made him the nicer person. He wanted to tell her about what he did, that what he did no one else wanted to do. That he did horrible things that people paid for with money, metal, favors, weapons, or worse. He wanted to recount how he kidnapped a girl so their stoner alchemy teacher would give him something special, something hard to come across. However, he was silenced as Bak asked a question. Baba Yaga? Luigi had heard she was a witch, and hadn't given it more thought than that. Bak began to explain, even giving an example of the witch's cackle, but then she started to giggle. She was having fun with this explanation, and hearing Bak laugh, seeing someone delve into something they really care about, Luigi had to hold back a smile, and partially, tears.

As Bak continued to explain, Luigi understood better and better why she called herself a monster. Luigi's inward smile turned to a frown, and the warmth he felt from seeing someone he considered a friend so happy, turned cold and bitter. He looked down at Bak, and in her explanation he saw something he hated, something he despised. He gripped a robotic hand onto the back of the chair Bak was sitting in, and the more she explained the tighter his grip got, the harder he squeezed the wood until it began to bend, creak silently, until Bak clasped her hand over his own mouth to silent herself. Luigi slowly released his grasp, and felt pulped wood slip through his fingers. "I see...Your definition of a monster, and mine, is far different...But I do like that you find comfort in yours. I guess one day, there will be a Rhean legend of a mechanical knight who beats up evil witches, and blasts lazy louts who don't do their chores....."

"...But, as you've asked your question, and explained something, would you allow me to do the same?" Luigi asks, quietly.

Bak stretched out, rolling her neck from side to side and switching her vision modes on and off. "Nyet, perfect work as always."

She stood to her not so impressive full height, a gave Luigi a concerned look. It wasn't a look of judgement, more like a look you'd get if you told a coworker another employess was having you run drugs out of the mail room like that wasn't odd. "Luigi, you are member of St. Mephisto's student council. Our benefactor is most powerful man in all Rhea. You are genius. You should not have to do the nasty work if you do not wish too. If you are in need of resources you should make your desires known to Mr. Mephisto. If you should work under someone it should be a man smart enough to see your worth."

Kidnapping someone? The nerve! That was a Bak job. Someone like Luigi was wasted doing things like that when he could be creating marvels from e safety of a fully stocked laboratory. The thought of it was offensive, not the least because she couldn't remember the student council approving any kidnapping plots.

"I will never need to look for you under bridge." She said, leaning forward emphatically. "Because you are destined for something so much greater than being stupid stinking troll."

"....If I have to ask him for help, I'm not the genius you claim me to be. I...do this whole thing so I can protect people on my own. Get things on my own. Doing those jobs for people? That's me gathering. Talking to the benefactor, it's like getting a handout one way or another. It disgusts me deep inside to be reliant on someone like that, never again." Luigi began, before remembering just how he groveled for Cel's help earlier in the week. His own hypocracy made him feel disgust, and then he realized just how much of an edgy fuckwad he was being. He sighed, deeply, drawn out, exaggerated, before he starts to walk off. He takes a moment, noticing the sleeping slacker, and reaching into his pocket manages to produce a blanket for Rurik. He gently drapes the blanket onto the guy, figuring if he could sleep through all that, he needed the rest, before he walks out of the room.

"...If you need anything else, or even if it's just to talk, you know how to find me, Bak."

"Same to you." Bak said as he disappeared out the door. "If you ever need anything I am here." Oh they would be having that talk all right. Right after she had a little talk with Mr. Kanzeal about overstepping his authority. She didn't get Luigi. Why would they be a group if they weren't supposed to rely on one another? Why have a benefactor if you never went to him for help?

At this point, Yuuto felt he had seen enough. Besides, his Void Energy was nearing half capacity. So, he steadily made his way over to one of the walls of the room, carefully making his way down. Soon, he was on the floor once more. He righted himself and stepped back into the real world, as it were. "Greetings, Bak-san." Yuuto greeted her, as if he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere.

She was shaken from her train of thought by the sudden greeting from a familiar voice. "Yuuto!" She said, turning to find the ninja in the room. It wasn't surprising he'd come in without her seeing him, she'd seen enough movies to know he could do that. "Is better late than never." If anyone else had said that it would have sounded like a passive aggressive put down, but Back somehow did the impossible and used the phrase entirely genuinely. Based on what he had said about his punishment Bak had assumed the worst, but seeing as the boy wasn't a walking ball of scabs and calluses he was doing much better than he had in her imagination. "Is just as well, meeting did not go so well. I did not even have the chance to ask Miss Celestine if she could take look at you. Are you doing well?

Yuuto nodded, as if in understanding as Bak mentioned the meeting. "Am well. Still sore, but is nothing I cannot handle. Tousan would not permit me to see any medic, anyway." What he didn't mention was that he still had a hairline fracture in his left ulna from the training, nor the cracked ribs that had only recently healed. No, Bak didn't need to be exposed to the evils and harsh realities of the world. "What was meeting for? Am sorry I was busy with... other business." He had to keep appearances up., after all. Besides, Bak might know more than was mentioned at the meeting.

Bak frowned at what Yuuto's Father would and would not allow. They were bad guys anyway, they had their own rules. "I made agenda." She said, reaching over and handing the crudely penned agenda to him. "We did not make very much progress. If Mr. Kanzeal has been doing kidnappings without our approval that may be how our location was leaked, but many people are still missing. If Tovarisch were around she could find them but..."

She suddenly pulled out the cell phone the Ward boy had found for them. "You are like spy, da? Expert at gathering information." She turned the phone toward him. "Do you think you could get information from this?"

Yuuto eyed the poorly-penned agenda that Bak had handed over to him. To be honest, he could barely make out what it said. However, he pocketed it. "Arigatou, Bak-san. As for location, am sure that Clara-dono return soon." However, it was then that she asked him a question he hadn't been expecting. He eyed the cell phone, taking in the details. "Hai, I specialize in gathering intel. However, I am not knowing how long it might take. Give me couple days, should be able to get you basic information."

"You do not need to if you are feeling unwell, but thank you. The sooner we find her the better." She said, gratitude radiating off her. "And if..." She hesitated, as though speaking sacrilege in church. "I do not need to know everything, but...if you find anything that could help me understand her, please let me know."

Yuuto nodded. "No worry, Bak-san. Will do job." As Bak continued, Yuuto frowned beneath his face mask. Hesitation? From Bak? [color=lavender]"Bak-san? Daijōbu?

Bak tilted her head at the new word. It was obviously a question. Was he asking if she wanted him to kill something? "What does that one mean?" She asked curiously.

Yuuto shook his head. "Apologies, Bak-san. I forget you not know Jubanese. I asked if you are okay."

Bak's eyes shifted nervously, as though expecting the commissars bullet for even entertaining such heresy. "It just feels as though I am doing something wrong. I do not enjoy looking in on Tovarisch without her permission. I owe so much to her. I have always put my trust in her. But she is student like rest of us, da? She can make mistake. Maybe if I knew more about her I could steer her away from making such mistakes in the future."

Yuuto had to suppress a chuckle. "Hai, Clara-dono is indeed capable of making mistake. Is human thing to do. Do not worry, Bak-san, I am sure Clara-dono is fine." Yuuto fully believed that, too. Say what he would about her, she was the daughter of Mephisto. She had shown herself to be capable of handling herself.

"I hope so." Bak said. "Thank you very much. Take this time to rest, please. Class will not be resuming today I think. Use teachers lounge, or my room if you would like privacy. If you need anything at all," she raised up her chaingun and spun the barrel. "I will be doing stress testing, so follow booms." With that, she turned and stomped her way out the door, toward the alchemical lab.

After she left, Yuuto couldn't help but chuckle. Truly, despite how monstrous Bak saw herself, she was too kind and innocent for the world. Well, if Clara wouldn't be resuming her duties today... Yuuto mentally went through what the possibilities were. Perhaps a report to Mephisto was in order. His mind made up, Yuuto discretely left the school, using his training and his powers to evade notice.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Hammerman
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@Gentlemanvaultboy
"Normal, huh?" Christine smiled as she reminisced about a certain person. "Bak certainly would disagree with that assessment."

She could just imagine Bak saying something like, "There's nothing normal about doing perverted pranks like that!"

Christine couldn't help but giggle at her sister's suggestion of doing a pantsing prank. "That would certainly be a riot." She was glad that her sister had returned to her old, bold self. "I do not know why some girls just can't handle any nakedness from a boy."

She suddenly imagined Rurik standing in front of her with only his boxers.

Naturally, this sent her into a blushing fit.

I might be a perv myself… I like peeking at his boxers since his pants can get a little low at times… too lazy to pull them up and fix them...

Suddenly, her sister asked whether or not she belonged to a swimming club.

"Eh?" She paused, tilting her head in confusion. "I could swim but I don't really belong to one. We do have one though. An indoor one. Not really that big."

"Yes, of course I was having fun!" She quickly answered. "It's quite fun being part of the disclipinary committee, you know! I specialize in scolding pervs who looked up girls' skirts! It's okay if you get a view in an accidental way but purposefully looking for it is just not very gentlemanly, you know!" she argued.

Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Crowvette
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Andras


Andras called her cards quickly. She had a veritable array of spells that were powerful, though admittedly none that would specifically help against Cel. 'I remember whispers of a weapon that could destroy Gods, though I have no way of finding it within the Root...' The holy spear she had summoned seemed to have some kind of relationship to it, but she couldn't glean much of it beyond that.

"I may not have anything that could bind Cel, but I do have plenty of strong summons to help defeat him. I think I can conduct particularly strong summons, once we formulate a plan." She pulled one of the cards in particular out. "I have a card that could sap his endurance to nothing, but it at the same time increases his attack power... Far too risky." Andras didn't want to consider using it. It could kill Cel, or even worse, make him powerful enough to threaten the entire city. The god that possessed him could prove too unpredictable. "I have a summon that can increase the power of attacks. Though, it also compels people to fight, so it may be a liability if we don't win on the spot... I think the plan of binding him may be our best bet."

Andras closed her hand into a fist, her enchantment of strength glowing on the back of her hand. She was unsure about the situation. Of course, Cel was... a monster; it was the only way to put it. But this wasn't Cel, his body was stolen by a vengeful god. Killing him was... Well, it made her just as bad as him, didn't it?
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by RoflsMazoy
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A Long, Perilous Sleep

[@Everybody in Mephistos I guess]



"Clara…" A voice rang out like a single rain drop striking the water.

An all but forgotten memory was conjured into her mind.

Clara and her mother and father sat on a grassy riverbank, watching the sunset on the horizon. Her mother placed a warm and comforting hand on her head. She watched their mouths open and close but no sound reached her ears. The birds flying overhead, the river rushing by.

Once she'd been told that deaf people who one day regain their hearing, of all things, expect the sunset to make a sound. As the sun dipped lower and lower, that sound filled her ears. But above it all, she saw her parents turn to her in unison and utter five words to her with voices like corrupted rapture.

"We will never abandon you."

Clara slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she remembered was the smell. The smell of wet flooring, combined with the sounds of water dripping inside the walls, and the rainfall outside. And though the room was pitch black, she knew regardless of whether she could see it or not, she would be greeted with nothing at all; except for the mattress she lay in and the threadbare blanket upon it.

The oh-so familiar sight of her childhood. There was no nice way to put it, there was no way for her to compartmentalize it or dress it up. It was an unremovable part of herself.

…But, well, as amusing as it could be, she didn't relish reliving these old sensations. There were those that said children didn't have the capacity to process the spectrum of emotions she was forced to at her young age. She had been told as such multiple times. She didn't doubt the facts. She couldn't dismiss the science. But still, she despised the weakness. She confronted her past self, and she destroyed the weak girl she used to be. Or so she thought, at any rate.

"…Let us quit this place," She muttered.

Her own voice was muffled, like she was underwater. But the words induced the desired effect. She felt herself float upwards.

The next step was confirming the self. This wasn't her first time in the nightmare. She had mastered a certain technique in order to vanquish its hold over her. Lucid Dreaming. There were many ways to initiate it, but this was hers. Lucid Dreaming provided her complete control over dreams she desired to control. Very useful, although it could be limited at times.

She brought her hands up to see them. This time they were ethereal in nature. She wasn't as in control as she would like, but at least she could lessen the influence of the dream. She took a breath, and the room lightened. Her control of the dream in this state would be limited to the current 'stage'. When the dream moved on, she'd have to reset any changes she made. Her greater psyche was in control here, and the changes she made wouldn't be committed to its memory, the same way most details in short-term memory are culled when encoded into long-term memory.

Once she had been afraid of the dark, but with its conquest darkness became her weapon. It was only fitting that she could control the darkness within her own dreams. Perhaps if her younger self were awake she might be able to see the change, or perhaps she wouldn't. She doubted it would bring her comfort either way, in the state she was in.

She was tossing and turning in her sleep. She let out small whimpers here and there as well.

How pathetic… was what she might've said. But, perhaps it was due to not having seen this dream in a long time, or maybe it was due to the recent turn of events, but she… she didn't wish to continue seeing her in such a sorry state. It wasn't approaching on the level of empathy. But… if there was a speck in your eye, would you not remove it?

She breathed into her soul, and exerted her influence on the dream. The air rippled, and in came her ever familiar Shadow Tiger… except it was smaller for some reason. It was less than half its size. Did that say something about her?

No matter, She chided herself.

This version of the tiger wasn't real, but it acted almost the same as its real counterpart thanks to her familiarity with it. Even in real life it followed her orders to the letter but in the dream she could control it with her mind, which made things even easier.

She had a purpose in summoning the tiger, it was one of her constant companions. Its presence had a reassuring effect on her mentally, and it should be reflected in the dream as well.

"Go," She said to the tiger.

It floated through the air and set itself down next to the sleeping girl. The girl's eyes flickered open for a moment at its arrival. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused, reddened from crying and tiredness. She seemed barely able to comprehend anything except for what was before her. Her arms shot out and pulled the tiger into a tight embrace. Soon enough she went back to sleep, at peace, at least for a little while.

It didn't appear that it would last, however. The dream was shifting. Clara was pulled back inside of the girl as the world around them spun to black. Before her eyes, the room disappeared and out of the darkness those two forms unwound into reality.

Those smiles warmed by the sunset in her dream, twisted into cruel masks once more.

Many had wondered at Clara's past. Well, here it was. Her father was an alcoholic, and often beat her while her mother watched, and sometimes laughed. Some would perhaps call her description lacking in the dramatic. Missing a little gravitas, perhaps? The simple reason was that there was nothing more to tell. She still remembered the experiences, and most of all the sensations. She hadn't been able to understand. The standard tenets of acceptable society hadn't embedded themselves in her yet. She didn't know right or wrong, but she knew pain. She knew it hurt, and she didn't know why.

The reason was something she sought after, later in life to help overcome her trauma. It wasn't something everyone who'd undergone trauma needed to go through, but her whole life until that point she had been asking that question. The answer was far too simple.

They were failures. In a world of those blessed by the Gods, some would be more blessed than others. And yet, they, like so many others were led on by their false hopes through their childhoods, adolescence, and early adulthood. Little by little it began to slip, and by then they were trapped in a loveless marriage in a dead-end job from which they felt there was no escape. For them it was reason enough. To beat her senseless. To unleash their frustrations upon her.

That's why Clara decided to walk the path of Evil. The world was not only goodness and light. To pretend the darkness didn't exist was arrogant and cruel. To all those who would suffer injustice like her, they would elect to ignore it. That was weakness. That was complacency.

But how far was too far? She was aware of the cycle. She didn't want to be the one inflicting pain because pain was dealt to her. That was not her will. If she allowed herself to fall to that level she would be no better than the humans that spawned her.

But she had already failed, hadn't she? What need was there for her treatment of Katherine and her sister?

There was no need for it. As much as she liked to pretend otherwise, she envied their bond with each other. She couldn't help thinking somewhere deep in her heart, that if she'd had a bond like that perhaps she wouldn't have turned out this way.

Only one person had borne witness to her darkest moments. One person in front of which her soul was laid bare.


The dream shifted once again. The girl was left alone as her birth parents left to go to work. Only, she was not alone. Slowly, she became aware of a presence in the empty room with her. A presence she would later become very familiar with. The presence of a God. The God of Death.

"Who are you?" The girl in the dream asked.

The God of Death rarely appeared in her full form to the fully living. And yet, Clara could be her only exception. Clara separated herself from the dream once again, for a moment. It was that very question that perhaps sent her into the dream. The God of Death had told her once in the past, but try as she might she couldn't recall that moment. Though she remember almost everything in her childhood, as proven so far by the dream, she couldn't find the right memory.

The God of Death had always been cold. But there was one exception, when they first had met. Although, it would be charitable to call it warm. But it had been different in the beginning. This meeting had to contain her answer.

Death appeared. Unlike some other depictions of the Gods, Death wore plain clothing. A long cloak which touched the ground, and a pale white half-mask was all that adorned her. She appeared to those close to death, but it was said that still amongst those, only those who were now fated to die could see her blade. Even in the dream, this was true. Clara, separated from her dream self, could not see it.

But, the Girl in the dream could.

She stood, amazed. Eyes fixated on the weapon of the God of Death. She reached out for the handle with more than a curiosity. It was almost like a hunger. Like the weapon was calling her soul to come forth from its body and join it. The figure of Death quickly shifted the handle out of reach.

"…Yes, it is." Death replied. "…Especially for one such as you. Even touching the handle would be enough to sever your soul from your body."

The Girl looked up at Death with a perplexed expression. She didn't understand the words yet, nor could she comprehend the danger of something calling for her so sweetly. It took a few moments more of the Girl staring at Death in stunned silence for Death to speak once again.

"…Are you doing well, child?" Death asked. "Are you happy?"

That Girl went to reply, but utterly failed. The girl knew very little but she knew she wasn't happy. She saw sometimes how her parents felt, and how it looked so divine when they felt like that, but she could never match their expression. Their elation, which would all too quickly turn dark and sour anyway.

"…The silence tells me all I need to know." Death spoke softly. The God crouched down and stroked the side of the Girl's face. The girl flinched at first, until she realized it wasn't a hostile action. She began to lean into it, and before she knew it she'd begun to cry. Clara remembered vividly, the hand was cold, but comforting. It was hard to explain why, but if she had to put a word to it, it was because as soon as she felt that touch, she realized the power of the person standing before her.

She was instinctively aware of how far it was beyond her wildest imagination. In the face of that absolute power, there was nothing to fear. Nothing would be able to touch her while she was in the presence of this God. Nothing could ever pierce the veil and inflict harm on her while she was here.

They stayed like that for several moments before Death spoke once again.

"This is your gift, child. From me." She handed her a large tome. The one she would come to recognize as the Grimoire.

"It will keep you safe, child. Safer than I could possibly make you." She spoke. "I hope you come to understand it one day. Truly understand it. It is not the gift it seems at first glance. It is something greater."

And then just like that, she was gone. The divine presence vanished, and she was back into cold harsh reality. The Grimoire was missing too. Try as she might, she couldn't find it. Soon enough the memory was locked away inside her mind.

As the surroundings shifted, she remarked the dream was beginning to move quicker. Or rather, it was accelerating towards its climax.

A day like any other, only the difference was this time they drew blood. The blood dripped down, and they laughed. She cried. But keeping her on their leash was something they were used to by this point.

"It hurts because we love you," Her mother had said. "Those other kids don't know what love really is."

She embraced the crying child and said the words which would seal their fate.

"We will never abandon you."

And suddenly they became aware of the Grimoire at their feet, as if it had always been there. It was open, with blood spilled onto it. Some loose coins which had fallen from their pockets had found its way into the fold. And the sudden, terrifying presence of a God surely caused them to feel something akin to fear.

She spoke one phrase, to the girl more than her parents. But her voice was clearly meant for all in the room.

"The pact has been made," She said. "Observe it, or Death will find you."

With those words, her childhood was over. She couldn't tell what had been going through her parent's minds when they decided to put her in an orphanage. Did they think in their heart of hearts, that promising to return would be enough? Did they really think they could run away from Death?

They found their crashed vehicle not far from the orphanage. The mysterious book never left her hands again. Rumours spread quickly throughout the orphanage that she was cursed. Perhaps she was. It was thanks to these rumours that she attracted the attention of Mephisto. Through Mephisto, she conquered her fear of the dark and made it her weapon. She came to know of the world and all that was in it, and she especially came to know of evil.

But that was a story for another time. For now she had to find out why she was still in this gods-forsaken dream. There was nothing for her to do but wallow in her misery while watching her past unfold itself. It wasn't something she had planned on doing, and she certainly wasn't having a good time.

Besides dealing with her tragic past yet again, she had to put up with her younger self's lack of awareness about the world and herself. Running away from every fear, refusing to confront her weaknesses.

…Well, wasn't she doing just the same anyway?

Suddenly, her younger self turned a corner, running for one reason or another. Nothing unusual perhaps, but the dream remained stationary. Clara didn't feel the pull to move on from the scene and continue, like she remembered it being usually. After a few moments she decided it was time to investigate.

She turned the corner and found herself in a short sunlit hallway leading into the orphanage library. Was it unusual for an orphanage to have such a thing? Perhaps but she supposed it was the kind of place it was. She didn't have a grudge against the place. Perhaps it would've been quite nice under different circumstances, but her rocky introduction had only been accentuated by a short stay and a swift exit.

It hadn't been long until Mephisto had followed the trail and found her. But that was a story for another time.

She had been fond of the library. It wasn't very well maintained. It was half storage and half books, and she had liked both in equal measure. The books offered an escape and the various pieces of furniture offered ample space to hide, if only for a short time. She had never been able to venture into the darker recesses due to some early fears, and as a result in her dream those darkened corners in the library turned into a fuzzy darkness which she couldn't venture into.

She turned her attention to the shelves. In her short time at the orphanage, she had managed to read every one. Since they were almost all for children, it hadn't exactly been a difficult feat. Still, she could almost recall them all, just by the feel of the spine. She toured the shelves, looked under the rotting chairs, but there was no small Clara to be found.

She floated over to a sitting position and sighed. She had never been trapped like this before. What was the nature of the dream, and what was she meant to find out? There was no trail, no sign of what she needed to look for. It felt like some sort of illogical mystery which couldn't be solved without some sort of lucky coincidence.

Her eyes drifted over the room and they happened to fall on an tiny, empty space in the shelves. She felt a sense of déjà vu, if that was at all possible in a dream. She remembered the shelf, and each book that was on it. Unlike the others, this shelf held a lot of the less liked books. The library was stocked through donations, some of which were of debatable quality.

All knowledge was new to her, and she may have been the only one to read every book on the shelf. She had been meticulous about the library shelves. Obsessing over the proper order of books in her spare time which wasn't occupied by reading or hiding away. She knew which book came before and which came after, but this one was a blank spot in her memory. She couldn't recall the title or what it was about.

It was strange, like someone had plucked the information from her memory. She reached out to touch the empty space, and then suddenly she was taken somewhere dark.

Once long ago, when the Gods created humanity, the humans walked the earth as immortals.


A voice sounded in the darkness as if it was from all around. She couldn't tell whose it was. It sounded familiar but also so alien.

They could not die, but they faced no dangers. They faced no fears, and flourished over the earth.


She reached to the sky and found that she had no influence over the surroundings.

But one day, the Evil came. They couldn't slay the humans, but the humans could not fight back.


Something was amiss. It was as if it was no longer her dream. But that couldn't be possible… could it?

They bestowed blessings upon them, but it wasn't enough. The Evil was immortal too, and they themselves were not deprived of blessings.


Slowly she realized the voice wasn't familiar, but rather the words.

It was realized some greater measure needed to be taken. Death. For all in their realm.


The words continued regardless of her thoughts or actions. She doubted she was the true subject here. She was what you might consider 'self-centred'. That extended into her dreams. All of her dreams revolved around her, when she had them, and wasn't simply suppressing them.

The god of death was one who had existed since the beginning. However, his domain was limited to those minor things. The plants and animals which benefited from the cycle of life and death.

Revolution. Revolving. Orbiting.

She snapped her attention to the sky once again. It was faint. No, it wasn't even visible but she could feel a sort of current, flowing in one direction to another. She had no doubt, this was some sort of deeper unconscious she had never accessed before. But at its centre, she would find the cause for it all.

In the distance, she began to see a light. What seemed to be a huge area bathed in white light which looked so insignificant at the distance she stood away from it. As she entered she felt long lost memories flooding back into her. She walked and walked until nothing but bright white light enveloped her.

It came time to decide where to stretch his domain. It was too much for him to cover all of creation. But all must be subject to it.


She saw a speck in the distance. As she got closer to it, more and more memories returned. They were clustered around her very early life. Details she had missed in the moments she'd experienced up until this point. Emotions, thoughts and feelings. Those kinds of things she'd discarded as unnecessary so long ago.

None of these memories moved past the orphanage. Slowly, but surely, she was beginning to understand the bigger picture. She'd lost something, here in these memories. They were converging on some point of departure. The book, she hadn't recovered all of her memories of it yet. She put an ear to the wind as she continued onwards.

The Evil prevails because it cannot die. The 13 Lords of the Ancient Evil, equal if not greater in power to the Gods. They must be subject to it. The Gods too, could not be spared.


Her memories of the book itself were starting to return too. From this point on, she knew where the story was going. The pieces were moving into place.

This was beyond his power. It was beyond all of their powers, save for one. His daughter, the God of Dreams.

He said to her:

"My Daughter, this task is important, perhaps the most important of all. The shadow of Death must stretch over all creation, and only you have the power to do so. I will be destroyed and reborn within you. I have resolved myself, but still I give you a choice.

We may win this war without Death. It seems impossible, but there may be a way we have not yet found. But just as likely, there may be ways of defeat we have not even dreamed of. Above all this, remember. Even if you choose to accept your new duty, your new role, death is not the end of a living being.

Death is a cycle, a rest. A way to move forward and leave behind those things that are better left behind. Even if I die, I will become a part of you. Death is never meaningless. The duty of the God of Death is to make no death meaningless."


"…And then the God of Dreams chose to take the mantle of the God of Death, and so it was decided to be the law of the world. The dead must remain dead, so that life may flourish forevermore."

The girl in front of her turned at the sound of her voice. At the center of it all was the Girl. Clara. But not Clara. So who was she? The pieces had all fallen into place. She knew who exactly it was before her, but she doubted the girl in front of her was even aware of what she was.

"Who… are you?" The girl asked.

Everything about them was different. The voice, the body, the countenance. But their eyes were the same. Looking into them was like looking into the mirror of the girl she once was. The girl which she still was.

She let the question hang in silence for a few moments.

"…Have you enjoyed your slumber?" Clara asked.

The route was finally clear. Everything about the conversation ahead of her was plotted out. If she had to appear as a demon then so be it. To reveal the truth. That was something that needed to be done. The world isn't only good. To close your eyes and choose to believe otherwise caused weakness, but it wasn't in and of itself a weakness.

That was one of the things she had lost; innocence. And while she could never regain it again, there was some merit in it. To be able to find a path in the darkness, one either needed to be the shadow, or the light. Shadow was her only path, and shadow would still be her only path no matter what else she had chosen.

But to have a choice was important. The ability to choose one's own path. So she would show her the truth. And she would make her own choice.

"…Do you remember, how long you've been asleep?" She asked.

The girl didn't understand.

"Do you remember your first dream?" Clara continued.

She still didn't understand. Clara began to circle her as she talked.

"The sunset on the riverbank? The moment that you would remember forever? But even more than that, the moment after, when you awakened. And finally, you realized." She continued.

"Something was wrong. Why didn't the sunset hurt? Why did it make you feel warm when nothing was done to you? Slowly you came to realize life shouldn't be this way."

The girl swallowed a lump in her throat which all too quickly returned. An elevated heart rate. Shallower breaths. She was on edge.

Had it hit a little too close to home? Of course, but it was necessary. She had to press forward to the source of the dissonance. The moment which caused the crack, and began the cycle. And yet...

"Do you remember the last time you fell asleep?" She pressed on. "Do you ever remember whether you ever woke up?"

The girl was trembling now. She felt a stab of guilt. She knew exactly what she sounded like. What kind of emotions it would trigger in the small child. This was necessary. This was-

She changed her plan slightly.

She crouched down to wipe away her tears.

She held the small face in her hands just for a moment.

To agitate her was indeed part of the plan. Easing into a heightened emotional state from a less tense emotional state was a tactic to help circumvent shock. But perhaps, like always, it had just been too much.

This was the way Clara had learned to deaden her emotions, and her reaction to trauma. The concept of exposure therapy, exposing oneself to a large 'dose' of the source of a trauma to help overcome it.

It had succeeded with her. It had molded her strength. But it didn't have to be this way.

There was no longer any doubting her path, but she needed to know how to be gentle.

She closed her eyes and molded her memories into something more suitable for the approach. Every moment she'd spent in this dream, she'd never been sure whether she was wrong or right until the final moment.

It was only now, looking back, holding her hand and having found what exactly it was that she had lost. She finally felt she had found the right way.

"…I know what happens when the dreamer wakes." She said after a while. "When the dream was over, she decided never to dream again. Because her dreams always turned into nightmares. Even when she'd conquered them, and turned them into her strength, still it wouldn't go her way. But she found something out there. She found something worth keeping, but she didn't know that she'd tried holding on in all the wrong ways."

When had she become this sentimental? She couldn't really say it was an act anymore. She was just… venting her frustrations. Airing her grievances. Admitting her failures. She let out a sigh and proceeded.

"You wanted to know who I was," Clara continued, holding out another hand to the girl. "Do you really want to find out?"

The girl hesitated for a moment but eventually she took Clara's hand.

And that was the end of the Dreamer.

The girl absorbed the memories Clara had arranged for her to see.

Her mind had already been shattered once. The death of their parents was the catalyst. She rejected everything to do with Death, and the God of Death at that moment, and subconsciously created this world of dreams.

Clara arranged a specific set of memories to show her what it was exactly that she had become. But there were certain moments she felt would have broken her again, like they had almost done to her.

Or at least that had been the plan.

But sitting here talking to the small child that she once was, she remembered again.

Though one of them was simply Clara, and the other became Clara Deimos Erdrigan, they were both the Clara. What she had already conquered, she could conquer again. Whatever mountains she climbed, she could climb them again.

And this time she didn't have to be alone.

She poured everything into her. Every thought and emotion she'd experienced. Every moment with the Student Committee, with Mephisto and the other factions.

Clara's dream form shimmered. The white light and the sounds of her memories began to fade away and give way to the darkness once again. The other Clara's form had changed as well. Not physically, but her presence was scattered. Less distinct. Like she wasn't sure of what she was anymore.

"I…" Dream Clara began to talk, but couldn't find the words to continue.

Her voice was more mature now.

Being a phantom, absorbing her memories seemed to have aged her closer to the current Clara. In a sense, she had been the original Clara, but when she retreated into the dream world, she became a separate entity from her physical body.

A Dreamworld Phantom.

A 'Clara' still existed in her physical body. A Clara which would grow and become what she was now. Meanwhile in the Dreamworld, her other self had done nothing of the sort.

She had experienced the same memories hundreds, if not thousands of times. Trying to imagine a better scenario. Trying to plant a new tree with the same seeds, to try and find a better outcome. An outcome where her parents didn't die, the ones that didn't deserve to live.

And for what? Now that she knew the true reality, it had all come crashing down on her.

She was silent for a long time.

And finally, she asked a question.

"What… am I… to you?" She asked.

Her eyes gazed into her soul. A mixture of longing and some other indescribable emotions.

Clara had planned for dozens of questions and a variety of responses, and still she'd managed to ask something she hadn't anticipated.

'Who am I? What am I?' Those questions she could've provided an objective answer to. But to think only of objective answers, Clara must have been avoiding the very same question.

Manipulating the flow of conversation, anticipating what they would say next, treating every human interaction like a numbers game was something she had been raised to do.

Clara returned her other self's gaze, her own eyes clear and focused.

She deserved more. She deserved a true conversation.

It was long past time to try and continue to deceive herself. She had her own share of flaws. Just because someone else's mistake was larger, it didn't mean her mistakes became any smaller.

So Clara would talk. They could talk. They didn't have to solve everything in one night.

They could just talk.

And talk they did.


"Oh, so is Andreim like us then? I want to meet him!" Dream Clara yelled excitedly.

They sat together on some grassy hill in Rhea she had dreamed up for her. The color had come back to her.

She had changed her form to be a little older than she was before. An adolescent rather than a child, but she seemed to be fond of changing forms now that she realized she had control. She was also experimenting with flying and manipulating the environment in the Dream World using Clara's learned techniques.

"Well… I'm not sure how that would go now. It's been quite a while since I knew what he was thinking." Clara replied with a laugh.

Was this the first time? That she'd been able to talk to someone like this. A sister. Someone who knew everything about her. Someone she could share everything to.

Inside the Dreamworld her senses were muted. The sun shone brightly but it wasn't it's warmth she was experiencing on her skin. She only knew her own sensations and emotions in the Dreamworld. She knew that. This feeling bubbling up from inside her, was this what it was like to be happy?

"So, what will you do when you come back?" Dream Clara asked.

Urgh. Yes, she would have to think about that, wouldn't she?

"I… would rather not be thinking about that right now," Clara replied.

Dream Clara stared at her for a moment, before giggling and pinching Clara's cheek.

"That's just like us, isn't it?" She said. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to think about it when you wake up."

At the tail end of that sentence, Dream Clara slipped into a more melancholy tone of voice.

It seemed she'd already accepted her role. Physical Clara might have been the 'second' Clara, but in her heart Dream Clara had accepted her as the real one.

"When we wake up," Clara said, clearing her throat. "There's no way I'll be leaving you in the Dreamworld. I'm sure I can find a way to bring you back."

Dream Clara's mouth opened in shock.

"You... you're not kidding me right?!" She said.

She suddenly exploded with energetic vigor, and Dream Clara began shaking Clara around. Clara decided to relish the feeling rather than pull away from her embrace.

"There certainly should be a way," Clara said. "The God of Death and the God of Dreams are one and the same. The extra spells from my Grimoire have nothing to do with Death, and not so directly with an unspecific aspect of 'Dreams', so I'm sure they must come from here."

She had wondered once where her spells could stem from, considering what the supposed origin of her blessing had been the God of Death. With the information she had now, she concocted the hypothesis that excised fears and anxieties from the Dreamworld manifested themselves from the Grimoire itself in the real world.

During their conversation she'd all but confirmed it. She remembered the time each power manifested, and it correlated to Dream Clara's experiences in the Dreamworld.

Now all she had to do was figure out how it worked.

"Even if that's not how it works, I won't leave you here alone ever again." Clara said. "I'll find a way to release you, no matter what it takes."

She'd found a new resolve down here in the Dreamworld. The resolve to continue on the path she believed was right. She wasn't going to go back on herself an longer. She would do everything in her power to achieve her goals.

Dream Clara nodded and went to speak.

"Soooo, what happens after you settle everything out there, and you get me out?" Dream Clara said, shifting the topic. But she was smiling, and blushing red on her ears. She betrayed her emotions without even having to ask.

"I have to rebuild my web," Clara replied. "I need more power, more connections and more resources. But once we rebuild it, and perhaps even if we don't..."

The two Claras looked at each other, and shared a smile. Then they turned and pledged to the sunset in unison.

"Then we'll kill Mephisto." "Then we'll kill Mephisto." They said.
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Bak and Ward


After a few hours St. Lucifer's officially caught on to the fact that school was over for the day, and the dismissal bell sounded across the campus to tell anyone who had continued to stick around that they had better have a compelling reason to.

Bak took up her customary position by the school gate, seeing off the go-home club as they filed off campus back into their lives. Her clothes were scuffed and she stank vaguely of alchemical components but the most striking thing about her was the long white sheet she had clutched in one arm as her sewing needle went to work on it, in and out, in and out, shortening the thing by sewing ruffles into it.

"Are things always this much of a hassle around here?" Without prior announcing himself, Ward had joined Bak by the gate, leaning against one of the gate pillars. "Quite frankly, you look exhausted. Out of your depth, perhaps?"

Bak finished up the last of the first layer of ruffles and held the sheet out in front of her. The bottom half of it fell and piled on the the dusty ground. She would need to sew a few more. "Is unfortunate, but we have had some truant members last few days, and I am only really useful for blowing people up."

"And yet here you are taking charge." Ward observed. "There are three important traits for leadership. More, honestly, but three is good number for now. Will, inspiration, and foresight. The first is perhaps the rarest and most important. Nothing else much matters if you aren't willing to take action to begin with," he told her. "Then you must be able to inspire those beneath you. Whether it be loyalty or fear changes depending on the person, but it's usually one of those and both have been effective at times. Lastly, you need the foresight to make calculated decisions.

"You seem to have the first. You may even have the second. As for the third? Well I really can't say. But what I can say is that two out of three isn't terrible for someone who is 'only good at blowing people up'." He shrugged. "You're an interesting little group of people here, that's for certain."

"You must at least be interesting to be chosen for not-so-secret anymore evil organization." Bak said, stepping forward to bring her foot down on one of the flyers still littering the ground and scraping back to shred it into little pieces. Will, huh? He should have seen her last week. Or, maybe, right before he'd walked in on that meeting. "What is it that drew you to us? For all you are aware of we helped with big cult attack. Is what newspeople thought at first."

"Oh I've heard plenty of people blame you for the cult attacks. Many of them were very sure of themselves and made very convincing arguments," Ward told her with a smirk. "I just happen to know better. I believe I mentioned I've dealt with them before. Or at least my family has. Mind you, it's not impossible for one or two to be part of your school, but that's the theoretical extent of it. They loathe the gods, and last I checked a majority of you still happily get your powers from them. They think you're mindless sheep. Conversely, I think they're shortsighted fools."

He sighed and shook his head.

"Ah, but you asked what led me to you. I was intrigued by the nature of your group. I believe there is a great potential to get things done with you lot. You work with a distinct lack of red-tape or ethical quandaries. A focus on what needs doing is what is necessary with the situation facing us."

Bak huffed. The nerve of of the cult people. Sheep were cool, that should be a compliment. "Big cult talk man talked very big about hurting Tovarish's city. You know so much, who is this man and where is his house?"

"That... I do not know, I'm afraid," Ward told her. "Their goals and their beliefs I know of to a degree, based off of their actions and their whinging and bluster. Their true identities are closely guarded, however."

He then narrowed his eyes, "Listen to me well, Bak. I believe I mentioned I was not alone in coming to this city, so to speak. The other noble heirs of my country followed, and claim similar goals. Their motives are flawed, however. They seek glory and status solely whereas I have a more personal motive. My patron god of my family has anointed me as a jailor of sorts. The cult would see my prisoner freed in the hopes of a reward. They think that by serving demons they will have more choice in their fates. They fail to see that the price they'll pay in the end will leave them... wanting. The point being is that I have very personal stakes in this matter and I would see this cult banished for good. I would much enjoy a partnership with your council, barring a full membership. You've already faced them and survived and no higher authority would want to work with some foreign student... so that leaves me with you. I don't mean to suggest you're bottom of the barrel, but you remain my best and only option at present."

Bak closed her eyes and considered while the last of the St. Lucifer's students filed past. Finally he opened them and turned to Ward. "Tell to me one more thing: did you beat up Gabriel?"

"The boy with a bit too much to prove? Yes, I believe we did have an altercation." Ward shrugged. "And I suppose I won."

Bak nodded, stepping away from the wall. "He may not ever attend meeting, but he is nonetheless member of council. Even if he were just regular student I do not condone fighting in classroom. I do not think Tovarish would think such a thing was so wrong. She would think someone with knowledge and strength like you would be very useful and welcome you with open arms. Would probably laugh out loud at people serving demons. But this is not thing I can overlook."

She suddenly turned, reaching out around the corner and grasping something hidden just behind the school gate before bringing it forward to face Ward.

It was a push-broom that she extended to him, handle first.

"I do not think I will be able to punish you for this the usual way, not if you could beat him. But, if you would like our help and are willing to help us, you should make amends. Afternoon detention for fighting, cleaning up all these dumb flyers with me. Then we will make plans for destroying foolish cult, da?"

Ward's mouth fell open slightly. She wanted him to do... chores? His mouth opened and closed a few more times silently.

"But..." He began to make an excuse but then went quiet again. He'd been about to make an excuse like some sort of naughty child.

He let out a ragged sigh and took the broom, "You're very straightforward, aren't you?" He'd never say it out loud, but maybe he had learned something from Diana. His way of doing things was wasted on these people. He'd have to adapt. This strange girl who seemed as much gun as she was person might be his best chance to learn. "Very well. Amends it is. Then the cult."

Bak nodded happily, stomping around the gate and emerging with a pair of rolling trashcans clearly having been prepared for this purpose.
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Brutus nodded as the planning was coming together. "Alright, then. Fortunately, my tags can last for a while. The only thing we need to figure out now is when and where to strike. This plan needs to be in our odds as much as possible." Brutus said. He looked over to Moira, eyeing the weapon the being now held. He felt shivers down his spine. Whatever that thing was, it didn't belong on the mortal plane.
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@Gentlemanvaultboy@Crowvette@rawkhawk64@Scarifar

Diana stirred finally, after the plans were being discussed, and managed to wring herself out of Andras grasp. The plan they were submitting... was unbearably naive. She frowned somewhat, her eyes set on Andras, and then Moira. "Well, it's the best shot we have, honestly." She finally gathered to say. Beggars can't be choosers, after all. She bitterly remembered. "However, don't lose perspective. If this was Lightbringer himself he would mercilessly pick apart any semblance of plan we have, and I suspect the one who puppeteers him is no stranger to this fact." She added, eyeing Andras. "But unlike Celestine, we are sure of what this ... God wants. My hide. He cannot resist coming after me, even if he knows it may be a trap."

She pointed at Andras. "Also yours, if i'm not mistaken." Diana walked a few steps away. "But... I am sorry, I can't bring you to play the crucial role of the bait. You're not... ready. " Diana eyed the girl. Young. Sheltered. Prone to being shocked. She added. "So i propose the following. I try to make my presence be known... and you hit him with all you've got. We can't afford more steps or complications."

"I don't like it." The Moira said. "I think she should be the bait. She's got a fools' luck, that one." The Moira chuckled, eyeing Andras up and down like a hungry beast.

"Really?"

"No. But who will be my cuddly buddy afterwards? The Dork Lady of Disparage? She isn't adorable enough, you know."

Well, it should work. As long as... he doesn't bring sizeable reinforcements.




St Laurel's


It had been an eventful start of the semester for Dmitry. He had mastered a new language, and found a new master. Except it wasn't the actual master he was supposed to serve, but it was close enough. The fiancee or the love interest counted as extended family, right? The Yekaterinan boy thought so as he mentally checked what were Elise's commands. He had hoped a more sizable amount, but she seemed the fairly level headed, that one. It was good regardless. It was one of such time's in which the exchange student was ... idle by himself, and he was just admiring some birds chirping, being commanded by the crumbs of stale bread he had graciously brought. Feeding such small, colourful bundles of joy was an adequate pastime.

There weren't so many joyful birds in the homeland. And if they were, they ended for commoner's lunch. Rhea was in luxury, indeed.

And in a flash, the birds were gone, as subtle but decisive footsteps approached him. He was a slight man... or a woman? Dmitry wasn't sure what to make of the haunting features and small build, but there was something familiar in the gaze. Something that struck a chord within him, and the thoughts cascaded in aligment.

"Brother?" Dmitry said, surprise in his face eyeing up the figure up and down. Despite being only half brothers, the resemblance was remarkable. Both could be confused for girls.

"...Indeed I am, Mitya." Celestine Lightbringer said, as he approached his younger half sibling, smiling a polite smile, closer and closer, and giving him a welcoming hug and a kiss in the cheek, an olden tradition of certain countries. "I am told you've been searching for me." he added. "Well, here I am."

"But... where were you? Why are you here? What's with the... dark three-piece suit? Do you like... uh, stale bread?" Dmitry fumbled as he eyed his senior, mesmerized by the moment. Was there a catch? Was this a play of fate? He briefly pondered, but he soon cast the doubt away.

"It's okay, I have some pocket money. I will treat you to a meal." Celestine added. "We can... catch up."

"Alright." Dmitry added, but felt something was missing. Some dark piece in his mind clicked. "What's the problem though?"

"Oh, you are able to read me to this extent already?" Celestine grinned. "I think we will get along swimmingly. True, my interest is not only brotherly bonding... there are other things that must be taken care of. Something... delicate. And who better to help me than my own brother?" Celestine said, as he put a hand on Dmitry's shoulder.

"We can give mother a surprise, even."

Yes, it's going to probably be frontpage on the news, the amount of havoc we can ...dispense. Once I model you, that is. All for the sake of this... nagging presence on my head. It won't allow me to revolt. The Fallen One dully noted, as he began to lead the way out of the school.

I might need a few more allies who won't ask too many questions and are fairly ruthless, though.
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