Too much was happening too suddenly, Annalise couldn't help but feel, as Magnus pushed her back, and the Holstaur offered her up for combat against a seasoned warrior and something she couldn't predict without seeing it. Her armor hid her panic, as she stumbled back a fair bit from Magnus's brute strength (even controlled), and tried to take her lance in hand; only for her “fingers” to pass through it, and absorb it back into her core. 'No! No! No! Don't panic! Don't panic!’ she tried to calm herself, but, she couldn't. ‘It doesn't change! Nowhere changes! It's still the same!’
Annalise resisted a scream in frustration, as she covered the lance's hilt-less state with her hands. How she'd struggled to travel to that Guild Hall -- hoping to live somewhere that she wouldn't have to fight against her will; somewhere she wouldn't be attacked on sight; somewhere she can wouldn't have to live in the form of a chest to survive the night; somewhere she could eat richly without risking her life in unneeded combat. 'He tricked me. I let him trick me!’ thought the Mimic Slime, as she could feel her armor thinning; being absorbed to call out a better one, a fighting one.
“Fine,” Annalise says, as she couldn’t hear Magnus whispering, and defusing the fights, “I'll accept your proposed fights.” Turning on her heel, Annalise started to leave, “I need to prepare, first,” and set off to find a secluded locate to bring up a stronger set of armor. Close-quarters combat wasn’t her forte, so she needed time to think and look within herself for the right kind of armor and weapon.
And, no. We have a Discord, over half of us have jobs, go to college/school, or a mixture of the two. Add to that, this is in Casual, so post aren't going to happen with any sort of regular frequently. So... I don't understand your, again, random inquiry.
Unless you are asking to join or something, in which case, we are, currently, a full cast.
As the forest erupted from the purposefully made barren sand that surrounded the schoolyard, and ruptured the concrete school with the merciless reclamation that nature was so entitled, Aoi found herself humanly disoriented. Even with the guide of the one called Longinus within her mind and soul, she was victimized by the inherent disruption of a forest, and her hopeless movements observed by the fauna that endlessly watched them stumble, until they crashed so into someone -- backs impacting back, sending her sprawling to the forested floor.
Like the hopeless spirit within her, there was no God for her. No longer in need of the echolocation of her cane, Hana could sense her sister's footsteps upon the trodden path; fallen leaves and bramble brush betraying the young woman with every step. Sword in hand, Hana advanced with seemingly practiced step and strike, forcing Aoi to parry and defend under Longinus's direct influence, and against her own will. There was little room for error in this death match between two sisters; however, one was forged in unflagging stone, and one was besieged by weighted guilt.
A decision needed to be reach by the one that could exhaust, and soon...
At the same time, Rebecca was truly by herself; unable to do more than hide within the bushes, as the terracotta soldiers were marching to and fro. Unlike her, they didn’t seem lost amid the greenery, however, they were easily distracted by their own noises and movements -- human flaws underneath rising to mess them up. Perhaps, for her, this was opportunity crafted by a guiding hand -- perhaps, Godsent, in aid of her indecision -- that made it possible for the girl to move without strife... for now.
In the distance, however, she could hear the clashing of weapons, the shoutings of another woman, followed in short by a large impact, and a nearby explosion. For Rebecca, these could all be taken as signs -- not ones of hope, nor confidence, but warning to arrest ideas of venturing beyond her safety in the tall bushes and shaded trees. Unfortunately, there is no path truly divine nor safe; as her eyes fell upon the sought safety of the opposite school gate, she could see that Bill had been displaced here.
Or, perhaps, dispatched here, as he seemed stand as a lone sentry, and yet his presence of comparable to ten. Rebecca's choices narrowed to two: place her faith in the benevolent guide that set her here and retreat into the trees or stand firm with the path handed her and forge ahead...
As Kuremi struggled and overcame her internal doubt and fear, and drew upon the strength of the spirit within, the forest around the school invaded the school, itself, and crushed down the door behind her. Before her, the path was lain that she would have to venture into the building. However, before that was even possible, she had to face all her demons -- not just those of doubt, but those of action, as well. As she materialized her blade, there was a crunching of stone through leaf...
Standing in the door, Kiriya looked at his granddaughter; hand upon sheathed sword. His eyes, empty and compassionless, studied her drawn blade with years of understanding that dwarfed Kuremi very existence manyfold. This was her challenge -- perhaps, one that she was destined to undertake -- as Kiriya drew his blade upon her; his stance wasn’t that of a rookie swordsman, but that of a kendo proficient steadying himself for a duel... one to the death, in this case.
However, that gave Kuremi a sense of her grandfather still existing within. It didn’t promise a victory by any means, but a chance to succeed...
Dorian’s quick-thinking was something of a Godsend, in the situation at hand; getting Jin and Lia out the window and to safety. Morimoto took the offered draft, and drowned it without a moment’s hesitation. “Thanks,” he sighed, “This is an interesting day, isn’t it? I wasn’t expecting such an event.” Morimoto was babbling, now, as panic set in, anew, and his tongue was loosened by drink. “I’m babbling,” he acknowledged, “I better get out the window, shouldn’t I? Yeah. I’ll do that. Are you sure you down want to go first?” Dorian’s stance, of course, wasn’t going to change in an instant -- he didn’t seem like the type of man to offer you fine wine just to stab you in the back.
As such, he heeded Dorian’s sound advice for landing, before hurrying to the window; a tree sprouting from the center of the floor, and causing him to stumble. Grabbing the window, Morimoto focused on jumping... before a searing pain filled his core. He didn’t have anything on his mind, beyond escaping, as the stone started to cover him; corrupt him; control him. Looking back, he growled at Dorian, before resuming his last thought and the Emperor’s Decree. Newly formed ji in hand, he leapt from the window...
Looking back, Dorian could see, due in part to the growing tree, a section of the wall had been torn away, and a bow-wielding soldier had shot at Morimoto, since it could only see him. However, the wall was coming away quickly, and Dorian wouldn’t be hidden for that long, and his charges below where definitely in grave danger.
A sudden explosion of reforestation was something that could easily set anyone’s day at odds with their initial plans. For Jin and Lia, they were, for better or worst, stuck together, as the forest surrounded them, and encapsulated the schoolyard, before spreading into it, and beyond it. Jin’s landing had been as easy as she expected it to be. Lia’s more so, as she flopped into a sudden bush, and scattered off a bunch of squirrels; some of the running by and upon Jin, before launching into the trees. As she gathered herself, and Jin set her attention to the window they’d leapt from, Lia could see Morimoto about to make his leap...
...only to suddenly lurch forward, as an arrow punched through his neck, and he clung to the window frame with a fleeting moment of desperate hope not to fall, before his finger crushed the frame with the strength of the stone that was coating him. His head was taken first, as the impact zone was closest, and he formed a unique helm; followed by a large ji in his hands, and a suit of much heavier armor. He growled, looking back to Dorian, before finishing his leap, and landing merely a few yards from the girls that had escaped before him.
Turning his attention to Jin and Lia, Morimoto leveled his weapon at Lia, and charged forward at her.
Due to the forest nearly devouring the school, Maggie was nowhere near hard to find for Noboru. In fact, in comparison to all that he’d done so far, and what he’d have to in the future, finding the frightened girl was the easiest thing he’d done. Unfortunately, that’s where the ease ended, and the trouble began anew, as Maggie was cornered by several soldiers -- a phantasmal hand slapping aside arrows and swords a frantic rate. He could see a familiar face, his mother’s, which brought him pause, once more.
He would have to deal with her, with finality, if he wanted to save Maggie.
...if that was even an option to him.
Maggie reached into her runestone pouch, but, she came up empty. [Is this where you intend to die, then? Alone? Abandoned? Loveless?] asked the voice from before. “Dad... save me...” Maggie whimpered, as soldiers pushed forward, and trust weapons at her. [If you don’t move, you will die here!] says the keep of the defending hand. [Either face this, or flee!] Maggie looked up, and her eyes widened, as she paled. “N-No...” she gasped, as a spear-wielder soldier beside Noboru’s mother looked too familiar. “No... Dad...”
There was a sudden spike of Mana, and fire swallowed the immediate area in a blind fury and fear.
Noboru couldn’t even attempt to ignore Herne’s commands for retreat, as his own nerves lit with danger...
Frustrated, the Director of Ratatoskr slammed her office phone down, and ran a hand through her rose-colored hair, before looked at a timid youth in the corner. “Did you finish what I asked, Nathan,” she asks with an annoyed growl. Yelping, the youth jumped to his feet, and ran over; near fumbling a cellphone into the air, before presenting it. “Yes, Miss Everclear,” he says. “I created the account, and downloaded the app, and found the rom,” he opened the app in question, and tapped the screen. “I told you, Nathan, call me Rose, or Roselynn,” snapped the woman, “and, thank you. Haven’t played Pokemon FireRed in years...”
Directing her attention to the screen, Roselynn started the game up; humming the intro to herself, as she gathered her gun holster, and slipped into her two-inch heels. “Let’s go, Nathan,” she ordered, as she exited the office at a quick pace. “Here’s a question,” Rose says, as she tapped the elevator call button, “Fire, Grass, or Water?” Nathan hummed, “In terms of,” he thought for a second, “Well, if we are talking efficiency: Water, of course,” he nodded, before elaborating, “Since, the first Gym is Pewter, and Rock-types are Super-weak to Water-types. Additionally, there’s nothing that can menace Squirtle on your way, so you can easily level to 10, and sweep Brock.”
Roselynn nodded, as they boarded the elevator. “True, of course, the same could be said for Charmander,” she noted. “Yes, but, Rock-types take normal damage from Fire-types, so you would have to get other Pokemon to offset that weakness,” Nathan says. “And, thus, you can see, in that Bulbasaur is the superior one, because it can only be menaced by one Pokemon, and yet, is Super-effective to both Brock’s Gym and Misty’s Gym, which follows in suit. Do you know why,” Roselynn asks.
Nathan tilted his head, and thought about it, “I suppose, if you look at it, philosophically, the grass is what benefits greatest from the earth and the water, and can uproot the very earth itself and trap water within itself.” Roselynn grinned at him, as they left the elevator, and headed for a company car. “That’s a thoughtful answer,” she says, “Rival name...” she hummed, fishing out, and toss Nathan the car key. “Ah. You drive.” Nathan peeked over, opening the passenger side door for her, “Wait!? Me!?” Roselynn smirked. “My bodyguard can be my rival, too,” she says. “Now, to get myself a Bulbasaur...”
Annalise was not comfortable with the situation she found herself thrust into; face to face with this intrusive figure. A dweller of deep dungeons, she'd little awareness of all surface-bound creatures, yet she could gleam similarities between her assistant (or partner, as he'd timidly insisted) and the one before them – primarily, that they shared a lineage as a species. Beyond that, however, her inspection ceased, as they woman grew close enough to set her predator sense on, and Annalise laid a hand upon her rapier-lance. Lowering her head in threat, she stepped forward, beyond Magnus, and into range to strike without risk of retreat. Keeping her draw discipline, Annalise took over, “Who are you to question such things. There is no cause for your questions to be answered, until you answer ours. To tell you information you’ve no privy to is to allow chaos. So, you answer first.”
Annalise centered herself. Magnus's species was volatile, when challenged.
Marshall shook his right arm, and flexed his fingers. 'That's what the bandages are for, you walking, candle flame.’ he shot back. ‘In any case, friends, Karma and I shall never be. I'm a Thief, after all. Karma's always on the side of good.’ he looked up, 'Your side, last I checked. So, for the sake of my own personal victory, I can blame you.’ Marshall sighed, and then, tapped his head with her right hand. ‘Additionally, I feel I have to correct you, since, I’ll always have you. After all, you cast such a wonderfully hypocritical shadow for me to survive in.’ he returned her smugness with a broad grin of his own, and had another retort readied, before he was taken off guard, and sent to hand and knee.
There was a soft sheathing of knife in ground, as he root himself in placed with Selmia's Dagger, and angled his right hand to shoot a bullet through himself. If it weren't for the fact he'd remembered the exact weight and density of Amanita's blood, he would have shoot through himself, and through her; taken aback, as he was. Fortunately, he was aware of this, and the the almost ethereally dainty arms that surrounded him. ‘Is this truly a child? Have I been dealt two Jokers in one hand?’ Marshall asks, 'or, have I been so bereft of human contact, I've forgotten what a child truly is?’
Neither answer would please the ancient thief, of course, but, he drew himself, and thoughts, to the present, as Amanita slipped off him. “I don't drink blood,” Marshall says. “Not in any traditional sense, anyways. I am well adjusted to cooked meals, as any man, even if I am without need of them,” he says, looking at her, as she told him to follow her, and thanked him, “I told you... Hm, never mind.” Marshall sided the scolding for another day; perhaps. At this moment, her demeanor and posture were all too fragile, and her offer bespoke of lodgings; a bath, meal, and bed -- all warm.
So, he followed her in silence; determined to entertain neither his own curiosities nor those of his Benefactor. Surely, someone as engrossed in the corruption of light would have less than savory opinion; perverse assumptions to make, and use as taunt and sword against his personage, until she bored of it. His own thoughts conflicted, as well. He treated life as a black and white scenario; everything, everyone, all broken into a simple outcome of 1s and 0s -- “You make frighteningly binary decisions,” someone told him, long gone. And, he agreed, as it kept his mind from wandering, as it sought to do.
His mind had myriads of avenues to walk; simple questions and complex questions. What was Mucu? Was he a threat? He, if Marshall had to apply gender, was clearly smarter than another mushroom off the floor. He could withstand a fair degree of damage, and dish it out, as well. Yet, he seemed easy to placate. Then, there was Rumaya. Why? Why had she been dealt into his life; renew, his Amaya? His first and only victim. He didn't believe in victims, as they were too easy to intertwine with emotion, and sew doubt into his cause, or rashness into his form.
And yet, her she was, a perfect reflection down to the scar. A birthmark, now; if the simple offset of pigmentation was to be believed. Had his mere caress, a great 1,904 years ago, been enough to pervert her very blood, and force Amaya's descendants to bare an echo of his greatest mistake? It was so much to think on, but, insurmountable in comparison to the child that led him across the field encircling the ruined forest. Was she a child? Or, was she another Harvin, playing at being a child for some game or reason? Or, was she of the Nymphs, determined to be seen as more than a Spectre of Beauty?
No matter the answers, he knew they would all fail to please, and bring only more aching. Amanita had presented herself as a savior, and yet, truly, she was but a curse that brought damnation... one that stirred up what he'd buried beneath a protective seal of compassionless bluntness, controlled insanity, and bestial ferocity:
Genuine Affection.
By the Primals above and Astral before them, this just wasn't Marshall's day...
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