ERode

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen@AThousandCurses@Sifr@Psyker Landshark}

It appeared as if more scenarios were being brought up constantly, the situation unveiling further curiousities to attend to. One of the students shouted about a core within the Foreteller that contained a twin to the Bronsteel child. Another student was quick at work in snuffing out all sources of light. The winged knight was performing remarkably, showcasing destructive feats that caused the entire auditorium to ripple. And Ciara was biding her time too, her status as a shadow-witch finally pronounced to the world by that insufferable twerp.

How rude. Hers wasn’t the only one rooted in darkness.

As the tempo of the battle increased, everyone’s roles receiving the increased burden of Mannekins whom became more astute combatants, a commander who was losing more and more of his own calm, Otis allowed himself to slip further into the background. Circumventing the swarm that charged for the paladin, that chased for the markswoman, that pursued the blade-thrower, that disdained the shadow-witch. He was just a small owl-boy, after all, with a gun ill-suited for the hordes. Just a humble Seeker, possessing no god-like might beyond the confines of his domain, drawn only to the pleasure of knowledge, of Truth.

His hands wove the air, a conductor on his lonesome. Draw sigils into empty space, defining the order and the constraints, the reason behind restraints. Whispered words gave life-light to cold calculation, mortal breath the transience of a fading spell.

“Knock knock.”

That was all it was.

The sound of Otis knocking on the minds of every sapient being within the auditorium. An individual telepathy request sent out to the Marksman, the Hunter, the Inheritor, the Doctor, the Bronsteel child. It was a request that faded away moments later, the one at the door walking away before one could even respond, leaving nothing but…a lingering trail.

Single-link telepathy magic, repurposed to track the locations of all living beings within a certain area, via an attempt to create a psychic connection with every applicable individual.

That was the choice the Strigidae made, in order to ascertain whether Gulliver was the titan, the command, or both.

Iris Ascendis

Hope ya recover well enough. Been sick for the last few days myself, but now that I'm recovered, I'm doing stupid shit like staying up way to late again.

Also, for this particular round, I'll probably wait for Chunji to possibly share this info with everyone else first, if he does it at all.

Children of the Otherwold (An isekai rp with a twist!)

Will be keeping an eye on this.

Iris Ascendis

Now, the ultimate test.

Will Psykers and Sifr post, or will Nanaya finally have a night where they can relax?

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen@AThousandCurses@Sifr@Psyker Landshark}

Darkness was much harder to manage than light, and much less effective for stunning an individual as well. A flash of light was like lightning, scorching an image of the bolt into the retina long after the blow had been struck. A flash of darkness, however? That was like blinking, when you didn't intend on doing so.

Regards of what he planned on saying, however, it looked like none of what was said mattered. The winged paladin from before had caught up in the worst possible moment, ruining all coordination for the single thing that didn't matter at all: defeating the loud-mouthed speaker. The Strigidae clicked his tongue just as spitefully as Gulliver Bronsteel spat out his words, calling forth a titan that was a match for army-standard Sword-grades in terms of output. It was nothing impressive in the grand scheme of things, not when compared to the stories of the Empress's own Gearvein, nor the feats of finesse from skilled pilots, but it was still a titan compared to the students present. If Gearveins could be vanquished by flesh-and-blood humans, there wouldn't be a point in crafting them to begin with, no?

And that wasn't even accounting for the difficulties presented by the Mannekins, which had grown in coordination within proximity of the one that controlled them. Another 'Calm' wouldn't work here, not when the situation was even more frenzied than before.

Still, all this had yet to force Otis to change his own priorities.

"Show me wonders of this world."

A door swung open behind Ciara, right as she crossed the threshold into the auditorium, exposing the void of stars and space, substance and simulations. Otis caught her eyes in passing, the message clear even without thoughts shared through the mind-link that persisted between them: the chairs first. And then he was leaping into the fray himself, a sunburst exploding out of his barrel to blind Gulliver, before five other bullets cleared the path towards the fallen Davil. Shrapnel fell like rain, like wooden chips spewed from a tree too rotten to serve as anything more than filling, but the Strigidae made no move to help Davil up, or shelter him from the storm. Instead, all he did was toss another hard candy towards him.

"Get out." A thumb jabbed towards the open door of Otis's workshop. "The first plan has fallen through, so I'll need you to play the central part in the second plan."

Too many lights and windows to shutter all at once. Too many Mannekins to challenge without going overboard. Too strong a barrier to smash open with just a fistful of bullets.

But so long as everyone else played their roles as distractions?

His victory will be inevitable.

Iris Ascendis

How does this thing compare to standard-issue Rekordian mechs? And also, how many sources of light are in this room right now?

Iris Ascendis

Lmao, GG Ciara.

Iris Ascendis

So am curious, Psykers. Is her Ethos like, constantly exuding bright light?

Iris Ascendis

Speeeeeed.

Iris Ascendis

_{@Nanaya@Estylwen}

“When?”

That was all that Otis had to say in response to Davil’s praise. There had been no time, after all, where the excitable wannabe-hero had actually asked him what his capabilities were, and thus, he had not seen any reason to explain what exactly his own capabilities were. Power words, impressive as they appeared, were the least preferrable method of problem solving in Otis’s arsenal. It was a blanket solution for specific problems, like using a grenade to open up a present box. Even with intents focused, the effects were still often area-of-effect, expanding outwards at the speed of sound. And, most importantly, it required a specific personal essence that one radiated outwards; such power words were far too inconsistent in terms of performance when the situation was actually stressful.

It was fair to say then, that despite the success, Otis wore a scowl.

Without any further hesitation, the Strigidae wheeled off once more, following in the wake of the returning Mannekins. There was no sense of urgency in his movements now, however, with his speed just enough to urge a light jog out of his companions. Their opponent sounded like a student as well, but it seemed entirely incomprehensible that they were able to reach the auditorium before anyone else even got to the starting point. The attitude, however? That was a hero he could understand, so full of ego that they would throw away their heroism in order to become the singularity. A meaningful obsession. A proper arrogance.

“Remember the conditions,” he spoke, as they neared the final stage of their journey. “We need to be seated inside the auditorium at 10AM. Nothing more, nothing less.” Actually vanquishing this final boss wasn’t something that would give them extra marks. It could even be detrimental, if collateral destroyed the seats in the auditorium, if they were caught up in the mad melee that would soon ensue when all the other students finally caught up. “Our opponent is arrogant and desires a true confrontation, but we don’t need to give him that.”

Empty shells clitter-clattered in his wake, new bullets slotted in to the freed up space. He lingered upon one, inscribing upon it a simple spell to generate a brilliant light.

“Davil, you go first, on my gunshot. Close your eyes to account for the flash, then rush in as fast as you can towards our friend in the auditorium.” Otis’s lips twisted. “If he’s going to be the true hero of Vaal Nero, you’ll have to overcome him. Do it now.”

“And…” A slight pause, his gaze turning towards the shadow-weaver just long enough that she knew he was speaking to her. “I’m Otis Tan Arillo. I’ll need you to secure three seats or one bench after Davil gets in. A door will open up beside you. Toss the seat in and if you don’t wish to fight, enter that door.”

That was the safer option, after all. They could just hide until it was almost time, then return their seat to the auditorium and sit down from there.

“I don’t mind whether we fight or hide, but all things considered? It’s a waste to show everything we can do during the entrance exam, so that option’s open to you as well, Davil. But I’ll still need you to give that ‘hero’ a scare beforehand.”