Anyone involved in that whole public fiasco feel free to have any rumors swirling around that you desire. @Hammerman, I didn't know whether you wanted to leave with the rest of Mephisto's or hang around with Katherine, maybe accompany her home, so I left that open.
Gentlemanvaultboy Member
- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 2326 (0.55 / day)
- VMs: 5
-
Username history
- Gentlemanvaultboy 12 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
I guess my comfort zone is "eccentric side character."
Most Recent Posts
End of a Long Night
@6slyboy6@Dezuel@Scarifar@Ebil Bunny@Hammerman@Crowvette@Letter Bee@Bartimaeus@rawkhawk64@AtomicNut
And so it was that the long night, and all of the mysterious events that had come with it. The Mephisto's students, with the possible exception Christine, went downstairs and vanished just as mysteriously as they had first appeared with the help of Clara's powers. The St. Laurals, none the wiser to whatever lurking horror Clara had hidden withing the students they had rescued, rode home in style it Alto's limousine. The Vigilantes filtered out, perhaps going their own ways. Perhaps walking together back to their church hideout. The lives that they'd helped saved and the evil they'd helped quell both worthy stars beside their name. The world spun on, largely unaware of what had transpired that night in the abandoned apartments. Strange lights and sounds were reported that night flashing from the top of the building but strange sounds and lights were not an uncommon occurrence in Rhea, and even that mystery was settled when the Vigilantes reported that they had destroyed a demon nest that night in that area. The missing students were returned with no one the wiser, and St. Laural's used its considerable influence to stop anyone from asking any uncomfortable questions.
Lise did receive a short call from the police to inform her that a limousine with plates matching her families had been found smashed and burned out in a bad part of town. Other than that, everything was successfully swept under the rug.
Of course, why would anyone be talking about anything that had gone on in the apartment when they could be talking about what had gone on at the Midnight Tournament that same nigh? What would have been news with a less law abiding set of teenagers had quickly blossomed into
the talking point due to the strange way the Tournament had concluded. People who had been in front filled in the detail for people who had been in the back. The people from the back told people that hadn't been there. The people that hadn't been there told people they assured that they had been there. The rumor mill spun and spun, until it broke an axle and the wheel flew right off. I heard it killed someone.
"He didn't kill anyone, that dude wasn't human."
"No, he totally killed that guy. His power was to dissolve things."
"He saw his match, he was just an armor guy. Besides, that dude was a demon. They all were."
"Did you hear there was a demon at the midnight tournament?"
"I know, right? Suuuper scary. I heard it ripped up the back of a car and ate the driver, and it only got taken in because its master showed up."
"You're both full of it. Demons that strong don't show up in Rhea."
"She could do anything. I swear, she pulled monsters out of nowhere."
"Demon lady of despair, huh? You think she's single?"
"Doubt it. She's what they were fighting over. The armor guy and that weird vampire. I think she's the vampires ex."
"But you said you didn't see the vampire fight?"
"No, no, 'course not, he's a vampire. He's got minions for that..."
"...21 monsters, all the size of a car, and a big ol' demon dog, an they're coming at him, right, but he keeps pulling this Devil May Cry shit..."
"What I wouldn't give for the number of that girl that beat up Wolf. Who is she? I don't know. Nobody knows. That's the biggest mystery. She's probably working for that Galbrek guy."
"...Mephisto's. You know that Clara girl is into the occult. The monsters could only have come from her..."
"...ninja's just falling out of the trees, throwing hurricanes everywhere, running through the grass, hey? Where are you going? Come back here! You have the believe me! There are ninja's in this city!!!"
"I personally fought this "wolf demon" you all are going on about and she is nothing of the sort. I wouldn't normally waste time on a mongrel like you, but continue to insult her as such and I will get up and twist you into a pretzel. Do I make myself clear?"
"The wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon."
"No, the wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon."
"That's what I said, the wolf girl was fighting with the wolf demon!"
Such is life in the city of Rhea that these rumors, and many more, could never be dismissed out of hand. That is the magic of life in the big city. And on and on it goes, this strange life led by these strange and wonderful people.
Bak and Gilliam and Naseraph
She was in there? Clara had been in the ball!? Bak felt some sort of screeching, meal on metal groan echo through her entire body as she stiffened up in sheer mortification. How had she not put that together?
Gilliam, for his part, felt his teeth involuntarily start to snap together as Alto fell from the orb and gracefully caught the floating student in his arms like a knight in shining armor. Tak Tak Tak Tak Tak went his pearly whites, loud enough for even Bak to hear. She turned and looked at him as he slapped a hand over his mouth to try and contain himself. He reached down quickly and helped pull Bak to her feet with his free hand.
Still, this was a perfect opportunity. Clara and Bak were here and, while not in the best shape, could still fight from the looks of it. St. Laural's best fighter was down, Alto had a hostage to worry about, and while he couldn't expect Rurik to lend his aid perhaps Christine, Yuuto, and even Thobias would get involved. King was here, yes, but there was no guarantee he would interfe-
"King." Came an annoyingly familiar shout from somewhere above. Indistinc, now lit only by the moonlight, three shadows stood on what remained of the roof looking down on the scene below. The one that was talking sounded like poultry.
"How do you suppose we report this?" Naseraph continued. "There's no proof we killed a greater demon here tonight. I would hate to think that we aren't going to get paid for the trouble we went through."
Like that the opportunity to take out Alto was ruined. If those three were going to be here they'd back Alto up and the math was suddenly much more even. He was about to walk away when Bak spoke up.
"You did not kill greater demon!" shouted Bak. "We killed greater demon! We got beat up! It was us mostly!"
"You didn't even want people to know you were here, how are you ever going to get the money?" Naserph replied.
"You will give us money! We already got you much money tonight, you will give us the demon money!"
"There is no money yet you mistake of creation! I am trying to establish the existence of money. Be! Silent!"
Naserph was completely done. Nothing had gone his way tonight. He drawn into battles he had no interest in. He had missed the midnight tournament. He hadn't been able to talk to the ghost boy. He hadn't even seen anything out of the big three that he couldn't see on the recordings of prior tournaments. He just wanted something, anything, to show that tonight wasn't a complete waste of his time. If that came down to money, then so be it!
He couldn't hear the click of Bak's missile pod opening up and had no idea how easy it was for her to line up a shot on him using her thermal vision. Luckily for him Gilliam had heard that and, while he did consider letting her blow that annoying vulture out of the sky, placed his arm over the ports before she could fire. He didn't know what they were talking about or how Bak had come to know these people, but starting another fight was not to their advantage. "What tak tak tak are they tak tak tak talking about?"
Bar was about to reply when Rurik found the door. That was right, she couldn't tell Gilliam here. Alto was here. He might hear the whole plan. "I will tell you later. Was good plan, I am proud of it." She said, casting one last dark look at Naseraph's hot red outline before making her way unsteady across the rubble.
Gilliam watched her go, then made his way over to Clara and bowed deeply. "My Mistress, my sincerest apologies for my performance on this mission. My long absence, while not entirely my choice, is in itself inexcusable. Please, to make up for it, allow me to escort you away from, at the very least, prying eyes. We could speak of some interesting matters I discovered concerning Master Vittorio. Did you know he was wanted by the police?"
Bak, meanwhile, stood on the precipices of a great undertaking. She considered the stairs. She thought about how long she would roll if she too a tumble from the tenth floor. She thought about the possibility of rolling over someone. Then, taking a page out of Rurik's book, she raised her voice. "Thobias!" she called out. "Escalator please."
@6slyboy6@rawkhawk64@KillamriX88@Hammerman@Bartimaeus@RoflsMazoy
Gilliam Dewitt
No sooner had Bak started to push herself gingerly to her feet than a hand snaked down from the wall to gently hold her down. "You will do nothing of the sort, Mistress Bak." Said Gilliam as he climbed on four spider like appendages down the wall, his arm reeling in like fishing twine as he descended. As he stepped off the wall and surveyed the extensive damage that surrounded them he scowled, an expression that only deepened as he approached and saw the dreadful state Rurik and Bak had been left in. He had not only arrived to late to take part in what was obviously a grand battle, but his masters had appeared as though they had taken the brunt of the damage. He bent to examine Rurik's arm more thoroughly. For as much distaste he had of the man the nursemaid would be a windfall to have around right now, though Gilliam couldn't help but but be amused at the thought of him dealing with a post defeat Vittorio right now.
He looked over his shoulder at the other gathering of people on this newly exposed floor, surrounding the girl that had...devoured the demon in the end. Devoured? Yes, Gilliam couldn't think of any other term for it. He almost got distracted by the thought of what she must have tasted like, all thoroughly tenderized and burnt as she was, but pulled himself back due to the seriousness of the situation. He saw Christine over with them, so they obviously weren't fighting one another. Still, it never hurt to be on guard.
He stood up and bowed to Bak and Rurik. "My deepest and most sincere apologies for my belated arrival. I'm afraid I was held up aiding Master Twinveil on the first floo-"
"You found Vittorio? Is he alright?" Bak asked excitedly.
"He has already departed from this place. I can assure you, he is of sound a body as ever and is presumably expecting our arrival at any moment in the club room."
Bak let out a deep breath, a little of the worry leaving her body.
"Don't bother expending what's left of your energy. Allow me to make up for my lackluster performance on this mission by handling things from here on out. Now, if you could direct me to Clara..."
Bak felt the worry flow right back in. She hadn't really seen what had happened to Clara in between sessions of becoming the worlds heaviest pinball. She'd just assumed that Clara was around somewhere, but her own look around the roof that proved not to be the case.
Where was Clara?
@6slyboy6@RoflsMazoy@Hammerman@KillamriX88@rawkhawk64
Also, @6slyboy6, if you consume that demon hold off on describing what the effects are. I want to run a temptation by you.
Final Round: Heaven or Hell, Let's Rock!
Naseraph Sana and Bak Tsarevna
(Special Guests Samoth Maskono and Aram Secrue puppeted with his permission)
(Special Guests Samoth Maskono and Aram Secrue puppeted with his permission)
The Demon copy didn't stand still because it was in Nasearph's grasp. Its momentary inaction was only out of surprise, a surprise that was broken by Nasearph's shout. Even as Aram began to move it relived that its arms were not bound, and it raised them up. Magic seals traced themselves into the air in front of its palms and from them shot two white hot beams of heat. Naseraph wrenched back, digging his knee into the small of her back and pulling her wings, and though there was a crack as the demon was pulled off course the circles hung in the air where they had originally formed.
But as they flew at Aram they suddenly stopped in mid-air, held up by something invisible. Samoth was there, moving in Aram's shadow. By the time the beam hard burned through the psychic shield Aram had already moved, sidestepping the shield and coming into range of the demons exposed belly. He knelt and swung, the blade slicing through the air and across the hellspawns stomach, opening up a clean hole.
BING
He turned, beginning to swing the sword it a decapitating arc, but before the mighty BONG could ring out that was instead a disquieting sound like someone digging through a bag filled with grease. Aram let the sword drop to his side and just observed what was happening. Samoth either hadn't anticipated a second strike from Aram or hadn't wanted to waste time waiting for it. He had aimed for the hole and just shoved his arm all the way up inside its guts. Or, at least, what would have been its guts. It was strangely hollow inside this creature, solid all the way through and yet it felt like you were grasping at nothing. It was still hot though, brutally hot to the touch, and so distinctly wrong. Sick. It was like sticking your hand in a tub of fresh vomit.
Then the hellspawn, this copy of magic, fell to ash around his arm leaving only a pile of sooty dust and a smell of surfer in its wake. Though his arm was totally unblemished by the experience the wrongness pervaded it. It felt like it was going to take a while before it was clean again.
As the demon dissolved Naseraph fell with it, then without missing a beat turned back to gaze across the roof at the battle against the true demon.
The only demon left in the fight was getting battered, by bullets and explosions and void energy, but was holding fast. It would take more than toy guns and pop rocks to budge it, and though she could feel the energy of the void seeping into her arm and eating away at her defenses she knew no human could harness that power for very long. She would whether this storm, let them wear themselves out, and then when they thought her weak she would rise in fiery vengeance and gouge the fleeting hope from their hearts. Writhing in agony mere inches from their goal was the only proper way for a human to die.
That's what she thought before suffering the indignity of being attacked with one of her own duplicates, the force of the impact and the unexpected direction it came from surprising her enough that it broke her guard and sent her stumbling. She could faintly catch, through projectile storm that continued to pelt her, the figure that had thrust such an indignity upon her. A figure wreathed in flame. An antithesis. A rejection of her very being. Something that she could not abide.
With a snarl of rage she grabbed up the copy that had been tossed at her like garbage and dashed across the roof, out of the storm, toward her seal, and shoved the body into it. The seal accepted such a sacrifice and as the flames consumed the body they warped and twisted, coiling around one another and her arm. She pulled herself from the fire, and what came with her was a roiling mass of flame the size of a small car that blacked and deformed the arm that held it into near uselessness. She turned at the flaming figure and threw the entire thing.
As this mass of flaming evil spun toward her like the core of the Earth itself, Katherine could perceive its nature with a clarity that came from the depths of her soul. Faced with such absolute contrast there was no way for her not to see that there was a difference. A difference between this fire and hers. Hers was a fragment of the fire that burned at the heart of creation. Fire that burned for mankind. Fire could be unruly, this was true, but it could be used by humans when tamed. It provided them with hot food, warmed them against the cold, lit the night to reveal their dark enemies. It was a gift from on high, a tool for humans to use to fight back the night and thrive in the darkness. Even the flame that now pulsed through her being had welled up in order to protect someone she loved.
The ball that now filled her vision was not any of that. You couldn't use this to cook, or warm yourself, or light your way. The fire would eat your meal itself, the scalding heat would always find a way to burn you, the leaping flames would always find a way to escape and take everything you hold dear. This was fire stripped of its compassion, stripped of all things that impeded its ability to consume, destroy, and grow from it. It was only meant to destroy. It was fire that burned to destroy mankind, and had discarding its compassion for the sake of burning hotter and leaping higher to scorch the feet of the gods. It would consume Katherine, everything she was, down to the immortal soul and the spark of the divine that had been nestled within it.
Or at least it might have were it not for her sisters actions.
The cold wind whirled around Christine, growing stronger and stronger, battering the hellfire dome Clara and the others were trapped in, and as she prayed she felt something. A hand, cold. No, not cold. It was pleasant. Pleasantly cool, like the underside of a pillow. She felt another one, both of them resting on her shoulders, and somehow she felt a smile on a face she could not see and yet intimately knew. The wind whipped faster, grew colder, as she felt power pour into her. Frost formed on the concrete, melting and refreezing again as it battled with the evil heat, until an expanding layer of ice crawled across the roof and fell into the cracks and scars left by the battle.
But still it wasn't enough. She could feel herself approaching her absolute limit, cold flowing from her like it never had before, but that limit wasn't high enough. Her strength wasn't sufficient to channel enough cold to do anything but make the HellFire Seal waver in the wind. Her fervent prayer, however, to save even someone like Clara in the face of this hellspawn was enough to prompt at least a small miracle.
There was a cracking sound across the roof. The ice and the cold had nestled up to the hot stones of the roof, which had gotten progressively hotter as they absorbed the heat given off by the Seal. The ice that had filled in the wounds in the roof continued to melt and then re-freeze, growing larger and larger and putting more and more pressure on. Then, suddenly, with one last definitive shutter, the roof gave way. Centered on the Seal the room collapsed inward, opening up a sinkhole that rapidly spread out and dumped everyone onto the floor below, Katherine being carried out of the way of the fireball as it passed overhead and flew over the edge of the roof. The only places left standing from the destruction were Aram's extremely well fortified bunker, the door to the stairwell, and the area surrounding the two. Samoth, Aram, and Naseraph were left standing at the edge of a crater, looking down on the flattened floor below. Above them the Hellfire Seal still hung like the sun in the sky, held in place by its magic and shining its evil light onto the combatants below.
The floor they had landed in had been completely flattened by the rain of debris. Uneven rubble and ice where everywhere, which only heightened the glare of that horrid artificial sun by reflecting it. Kicked up dust and the mist of melting ice mixed together to shroud the area in a bloom of fog. Bak Tsarevna groggily pushed herself up of the ground, fortunate to have landed on her stomach this time. She was sick and tired of falling today, that was for sure. The air was hot in here, a result of the orb sitting on the roof heating the floor underneath it no doubt, and now thick with the sort of humidity that made you feel grimy. She looked around. Rurik and Yuuto were still near enough to see, and she could definitely make out the blazing form of Katherine. Then, she saw only because the movement was so fast as to leave a trail in the mist, she saw the demon making a mad sprint toward Katherine.
"Look out prisoner!" Bak screamed, popping open her missile pod and firing a full volley at where she thought the charging demon was. Again though, as though it could feel them coming, it back-dashed away from the missile as they came for it. The missiles tried to course correct but the turn they had to make was two tight. They sailed around the demon and impacted the far wall, exploding, One, TWO, THREE! Wait, three?
Bak grimaced in a panic as one of her own missiles, snatched out of the air as it tried to turn, tumbled out of the fog at her and, by extension, Yuuto and Rurik. The demon, for its part, had not even turned to look. It had thrown the missile as though discarding a piece of unwanted trash and resumed its charge as though it hadn't even broken stride. It wanted Katherine dead.
On his way up the building Gilliam had to stop and marvel as gigantic fireball sailed from the top of the building. He let go with one hand so he could turn and follow its descent down into the parking lot, where it dropped directly onto a limousine. There was a massive explosion as the car went up in flames that shot high into the sky and seemed, to him, to eye the world hungrily. Then they descended and set about consuming the limousine in ts entirety.
He watched, bemused, as the other limo observed this for a moment or two then as calmly as possible reversed out of the apartment parking lot and drove backwards all the way into the basketball court across the street.
"Better pick up the pace." he said to himself, redoubling his efforts.
@Hammerman@KillamriX88@Bartimaeus@rawkhawk64@RoflsMazoy@6slyboy6@Crowvette
@6slyboy6@Hammerman@Bartimaeus@KillamriX88@rawkhawk64@RoflsMazoy
Seeing as how the last of the clones are close to being donezo I'd like to go ahead and ask everyone how we want to handle the demon? What do you want to do? What do you think would be the most cool? I'd like for everyone to get their own shot in if possible for when we put this thing to bed.
Seeing as how the last of the clones are close to being donezo I'd like to go ahead and ask everyone how we want to handle the demon? What do you want to do? What do you think would be the most cool? I'd like for everyone to get their own shot in if possible for when we put this thing to bed.
Slice didn't have to go to the meeting room.
Slice was already in the meeting room.
Slice had been hard at work in the meeting room for four hours.
He slid one of the chairs noisily across the floor into the far corners of the room, standing back and appraising it like a fine antiques dealer looking for the flaws in what he knows is a forgery. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm sized red book, flipping it open and studying what was on a specific page for a few moments, then he reached out cautiously and nudged the chair slightly off kilter with the tip of his boot. He stuck out his arm in front of the chair, nodded sagely, moved to another spot and did the same, nodded again, and hastily scrawled some notes in his little red book.
All the chairs were in similar situations as this, scattered around the room like guests at an awkward party. Hardly any of them were facing one another, a few were facing directly at the wall, a few had potted plants sitting in them that he bought yesterday. Some of them had pieces of paper taped to them bearing the names of his squad mates. It was a jumbled mess but, according to the principles of "Feng shui" as he understood them, the room now had the optimal flow of luck. He tore a little page out of his book, wrote "Andrew" on it, and pinned it to the chair he had just been fiddling with.
Not a moment too soon, as he suddenly received the message to head to the meeting room. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and sat backwards on the chair he'd marked for himself, resting his chin on the back of it. This would be good. Every single chair that was meant to be sat in was at a fulcrum of good luck. In addition, every plant sat at a fulcrum of bad luck. That way no one would be sitting in them, and he'd know he'd done it right if any of those plants died.
It was better than testing in on people, even people he disliked. He already had enough ghosts after, him he didn't need more. Hopefully what he'd done here would mean that this mission wouldn't go as tits up as the last one.
Slice was already in the meeting room.
Slice had been hard at work in the meeting room for four hours.
He slid one of the chairs noisily across the floor into the far corners of the room, standing back and appraising it like a fine antiques dealer looking for the flaws in what he knows is a forgery. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm sized red book, flipping it open and studying what was on a specific page for a few moments, then he reached out cautiously and nudged the chair slightly off kilter with the tip of his boot. He stuck out his arm in front of the chair, nodded sagely, moved to another spot and did the same, nodded again, and hastily scrawled some notes in his little red book.
All the chairs were in similar situations as this, scattered around the room like guests at an awkward party. Hardly any of them were facing one another, a few were facing directly at the wall, a few had potted plants sitting in them that he bought yesterday. Some of them had pieces of paper taped to them bearing the names of his squad mates. It was a jumbled mess but, according to the principles of "Feng shui" as he understood them, the room now had the optimal flow of luck. He tore a little page out of his book, wrote "Andrew" on it, and pinned it to the chair he had just been fiddling with.
Not a moment too soon, as he suddenly received the message to head to the meeting room. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and sat backwards on the chair he'd marked for himself, resting his chin on the back of it. This would be good. Every single chair that was meant to be sat in was at a fulcrum of good luck. In addition, every plant sat at a fulcrum of bad luck. That way no one would be sitting in them, and he'd know he'd done it right if any of those plants died.
It was better than testing in on people, even people he disliked. He already had enough ghosts after, him he didn't need more. Hopefully what he'd done here would mean that this mission wouldn't go as tits up as the last one.
Naseraph Sana
Nasaraph sat there in shock for a second, just trying to wash he sick feeling of the demons energy from his mind, before finally noticing that Brutus had at some point come to occupy the bunker with him. Well hallelujah, that was one problem solved wasn't it? He wasn't surprised, that lightning feeling had to have come from somewhere. He would normally put on his relieved face at this point but at this point he wasn't in the mood for playing pretend anymore. There was to much going on to worry much about his facade. "Brutus, did you tag her?" He asked, not even looking at him. No, he must have. He would have tried again by now if h had missed, and Naseraph had only absorbed the excess of one lightning attack. "Use everything you can muster. Strike her with the lightning the gods themselves hesitate to send, for this creature intendeds to kill us all." With that he rose and stepped out of the bunker without another word.
They would have to kill it, he was sure, and they had to work together. This wasn't out of any sense of comradery, merely base self-preservation. It had seen them. If they left it, just ran away or let it escape, it would hunt down the lot of them and slaughter them one by one. That was the way its energy had tasted. While they were together there was still a chance. If they were to split apart and let it have its way they would only be delaying their own deaths.
He stepped out, squinting his eyes at the light of the miniature sun that sat in the middle of the roof that, shining brightly enough to blot out the few stars the existed in the night sky over the city. He was fortunate he hadn't been absorbing when she did that. That would have killed him outright, or worse.Still, the light it gave off perfectly reveled the demon that was flying at them. No, not flying exactly. Freefalling was more like it, as though it had been knocked across the roof. Wait, no, he was mistaken....
He felt his new stores of energy flow inward, moving through every muscles and nerves in his body, bolstering him. He sprinted out the doorway, past Aram and Samoth, and jumped into the air to meet the demon. As he closed the distance to it the creatures eyes suddenly snapped open. It flapped its wings to bring itself upright and lashed out with a claw. He had been right. It had been playing possum. It's fight path had been far to steady, it hadn't been tumbling or trying to right itself. It had probably seen where it was headed and intended top catch the boys over here by surprise.
Its claw caught only empty this cloak, tearing a large chunk out of the back. As it came for him Naseraph had spun with an inhuman grace, changing his momentum and trajectory enough to let him fly over the head of the creature. This mongrel monster, it had actually believed it could land an attack on one of his exalted race in mid air? The absolute conceit! To fight in the air was the domain of the ethereal Gods and those they truly favored. Even the smallest of chicks knew that.
He ended his spin by grabbing on to her wings and bringing them together with a wrench and a crack, causing her to plummet out of the sky her kind did not deserve. She landed om her feet in front of Aram and Samoth. "The sword!" Naseraph commanded.
@rawkhawk64@Bartimaeus
© 2007-2026