kapuchu

The Crucible - Winner Take All

"It likely stayed outside of your keep," Lily replied, glancing over to where she knew the gates were located. "My guess is whatever defences you have over this... place has kept it from entering." She turned back to Carreau, making a point to meet his eyes as she spoke. "'Unless you are not invited you cannot cross the threshold', no? Not unheard of in my world."

Brucie nodded along from beside her, spoon still in his mouth. He had almost chewed it in half. "She's right," he said and took the spoon out of his mouth, prompting Lily to swivel one of her ears his way. He waved the spoon vaguely in the same direction she had looked earlier. "Saw it hovering just outside the gates. Whirrin' and spinning." He made brief circle motions with the spoon, the bowl-like half bending ever so slightly where his teeth had marked it earlier.

He's paying attention. Maybe I should reassess my opinion of him? Lily noted, before letting her ears both rotate towards Carreau once again. She did hear Brucie start scooping up a third serving of the stew but didn't pay it any mind, though she did feel a rustle from between her tails when she heard the plate be set on the floor, with sounds of eating that sounded suspiciously like those from a small dog following soon after. She didn't fight the upward twitch of her lips, but she only let it stay for moments before her thoughts returned to business.

"I appreciate that you intend to go yourself," she told him, and it was true. For the most part. She still didn't trust him very much, if at all. He was too strong for her liking, and his goals at once innocent and malignant at the same time. It had the potential to be both. His sugared words were the worst. She learned to distrust them a long time ago, but the problem this time was that there was a certain logic to Carreau's words, and that she truly needed him if she wanted to be sure to win. She exhaled through her nose. Steady. Calm. "But I would like to make some things clear. As I've hinted at before, the phylacteries you have in your possession are useless. As such, if you deal a killing blow, I suspect I will not be able to get the soul from my opponent. Therefore it would preferable that you and yours focus on detaining and restraining above killing. That way I can make certain that I get the soul properly." She twisted in her seat to look at Brucie. "And the same goes for you," she said, at which he looked up from watching Mouse eat and gave her a quick salute before resuming his dog-watching.

"But aside from yourself," Lily continued and fixed Carreau with another stare, and crossed her arms, "who else do you picture joining us?"

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Brucie fiddled with the new water cannon he had been gifted, prodding and poking it with his index-claw, ooh-ing and aah-ing at every other moment. Lily had a hard time not picturing him, as some sort of child adoring its Christmas present. He had little in the way of facial expressions, but his humming and poking was enough to clue her in on the fact, that he very much enjoyed his new toy. Not that she could blame him, she had found that her guilty pleasure was clothes, once she had gotten money for the first time. Picking out clothes from one day to the other was a luxury she'd never had before she enlisted into the Academy.

"This thing is pretty neat, innit?" He asked her, looking up for the first time in a while. She'd had to almost guide him to avoid him walking straight into walls.

"It is," she replied automatically. "Do you remember his instructions on how it works?"

Brucie nodded sharply. "Clench my fist to fire a normal jet. Press my hand on top, then fire, to make a water bomb."

Lily glanced back at him, eyebrow arced. He had actually remembered. "Good," she said and face forward again. She could see the entrance to the dining hall ahead of them. "Make sure you remember."

Brucie did a mock salute and chuckled, but otherwise did not comment further, as they were at the entrance to the dining hall. Lily pushed it open and walked inside, immediately noting the stark difference in decour. Where the rest of the castle seemed extravagant in its design, the dining hall was spartan by comparison. A single, bell-shaped table dominated the room, but it offered little else bit that and the chairs in terms of furniture and decoration. That being said, the table seemed of incredible quality. She was by no means a connoisseur on matters such as those, but even she could recognise when something was well made.

She dipped her chin towards Carreau, the minimal sign of respect required and the most she was willing the offer, acknowleding his presence and silently thanking him for allowing her to dine with them. She was thankful for not having to utter the words, as she was sure they would have made her gag.

One comment in particular, however, struck a chord within her, and she had to dig her nails into the chair was she currently pulling out for herself, to avoid laughing or making a comment. Humility was a term he must come to better terms with, was it? She forced herself to relax and sat down, uttering a quiet "thank you," as the slime girl—Verrine, was it?—poured some stew for both her and Brucie. For once she agreed with Carreau. He certainly needed to get better acquainted with humility, for as it was he was one of the most pompous and arrogant people she had ever had the displeasure to meet. Alas, their goals were similar enough that they worked together, so insofar as he did not become overbearing and started to truly embody the sin of pride, she could keep her opinions in check.

Brucie was quick to start eating and Lily was not far behind, though she managed to keep her appetite in check until he had eaten some first. When he didn't immediately get sick she felt it safe to take the first bite as well, and it was better than she had expected. A far cry from Tsukiko's cooking, but still good. She ate in contemplative silence, one ear turned towards Carreau at all times. Partially a safety precaution to pick up the sound of any sudden movements.

When she finally pushed her plate away, signifying she was done, she turned her attention fully towards Carreau. She crossed her arms and chewed on her lips, tails restless behind her. "You spoke of helping me win the tournament," she began, speaking slowly and clearly. "How do you intend to do that, exactly?" The question was perhaps an obvious one, but if she had learned anything in her years of being a soldier amongst angels, demons and monsters, it was that you had to know as much as possible, for there were things you could scarcely imagine waiting out there for you.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

Lily shifted the package in her hands as Souta opened the door, and she felt the corner of her lips twitch upwards. She looked up just as he looked down, eyes meeting for all of a moment. She noted a few of the emotions that passed over his features, one particular that was akin to disappointment or being judging. She chose to ignore it for the moment.

“Konnichiwa, Souta,” she replied with only a faint accent. She hadn’t used Japanese in a while. “I’m impressed you’ve learned to recognise me. I assume it was my pendant?” She asked, putting a finger on the item in question, currently resting on the outside of her dress.

Souta shook his head. “Well, it was just a guess, but the Citadel does not really take guests, and so far there have been a few, uh, commonalities between every form you have chosen.”

“One of which is my necklace,” she told him, gently running a finger along the edges of the stone in it. She looked up again, sporting a knowing grin. “But I think I know what you’re referring to.” She took a small, half step closer and shifted the package once more. “Do you mind if I came in? I wanted to talk a bit, if that’s alright with you.”

Stepping out of the way, the smith opened wide the door. “Please do.” Of course, his habitation could not be said to be prepared for guests, but Souta had kept it organized, at least. Lily walked in and gave the room a thorough look around, raising a casual eyebrow as she noticed a few new things in the room that weren’t there last she came, including a brutal-looking mechanized pickaxe that lay with nonchalance against the wall, as well as a high-tech personal forge. Souta’s, she presumed.

She frowned slightly at the near spartan furnishing of the room, and was thankful that her back was to the smith so that he didn’t see such an unsightly expression on her face. When she turned around, she looked up at him with her head cocked to one side, biting one of her lips gently. She hadn’t missed his earlier looks, especially not the subtle way his expression changed when he looked at both her dress, and face. She had known humans long enough to notice when things put them off, and this was one such time where she suspected she had made an error. A verdict she very, very rarely made and accepted.

“I get the sense that you find my chosen appearance this time somewhat… displeasing. If you have a preference, I could change into that if you so desired. And I mean anything.” She smiled to herself, allowing a small amount of pride to creep into her voice. “Few things are outside of my capabilities.”

For a moment Souta looked taken aback. “Ah, no. Do not wor...I mean, there is nothing wrong, really. I was just a bit...surprised to see that you became, uh, Japanese. Still not used to shapeshifting, I guess.” He thought he detected some other undercurrent in his guest’s offer. “And there is no preference. You are perfectly fine just like this.”

She searched his face for a while, the silence thick as she sought for any lie or half-truth. She thought she saw something in his eyes, but couldn’t find any immediate deceit. So she decided to trust him. “If you say so,” she said, and stepped close enough to be just on the edge of his personal space. She held out the cylindrical package she had with her. “I brought a gift. I figured, maybe, you’d appreciate it?”

Souta returned a suitably appreciative smile, though a twinge of awkwardness could be felt by both. Gingerly he reached out and took the package, noting its length and shape, before giving a polite inclination of his head. “Of course! Thank you.” He turned it over, so that the top lay in his right hand. “Shall I...open it?”

“I had hoped you would.”

Moving a touch quicker than normal, Souta undid the packaging. In a matter of seconds he unveiled the gift’s contents, and the instant he lay eyes on them he was captivated. Though simple in design, the katana he withdrew possessed an exceptional beauty and quality, particularly given what he guessed to be an extremely advanced age. “Masamune,” he read, the characters given in a delicate inscription in the steel itself. With eyebrows raised he glanced back Lily’s way. “Not one of the works of the Masamune, Japan’s greatest smith?”

The glee Lily felt at his astonishment was difficult to suppress, some of it glinting in her eyes. “I called him ‘Sensei’ once,” she said, and nodded towards the sword. “I helped make that, though no more than a simple student at the time.” She stepped over to the bed, sitting with with one leg crossed over the other. “It is yours now, if you will have it.”

Wide-eyed, Souta took a deep breath, though his awe did not stem from the object in his hands alone. “Whoa. I am...well, breathtaken. Every Japanese metalworker dreams of even coming close to Masamune’s mastery. To hold one of his swords in my hands...it is a tremendous honor.” Quite overcome, he bowed his head again, seemingly forgetting his usual casual manner. “I will treasure it until the day I die. Thank you, Lily.”

She bowed her head in kind, though being seated somewhat lessened the effect. She extended her hands towards the remainders of the package. “I’m glad that my gift is appreciated, though there is more to it still. I have not used them in ages, but my old tools are there as well. I thought they may prove more useful to you, than they are to me. Although, if that is of any indication,” she glanced meaningfully towards the forge, an assembly of technology more advanced than anything she’d seen in the way of smithing, “I may somewhat doubt that. An inspiration, perhaps?” She chuckled, feeling a small bit of relief wash through her system. Part of her had, indeed, wondered what the reception would have been, but it had been all positive, which she appreciated. She breathed out and straightened herself, patting the bed beside her and invited him to sit down with her.

Now rather close to beaming, Souta gave a little wave of his hand in a sort of well-what-can-you-do gesture. “We respect the old ways, but there is good reason why we do not use them nowadays. Still, I would be very interested to try them out. Inspiration, yeah.” His manner grew just a touch more wary when Lily beckoned him over, though perhaps more in the vein of being afraid of making a mistake than being afraid of her. After carefully setting down the katana and the tool kit on his desk, Souta approached and seated himself beside her. With no idea on earth what to say next, he left it to her to carry on from there.

Lily, contrary to what Souta may have thought, did not suddenly pounce him or even so much as touch him. Rather, she simply turned towards him, intent on asking a single, though important, question.

“I feel like I should be candid with you,” she said slowly, folding her fingers in her lap, “and I expect it might come as a bit of a surprise, but I do like you Souta. The sword and tools weren’t just to win your favour, but my attempts to prove that I can be… thoughtful.” A wry smile made it to her lips. “Admittedly, being nearly three millennia old, it is not always easy, but I do make an effort where I feel like it counts. So, what I really wanted to ask was… What do you think of me? I ask because I, honestly, don’t want to scare you away.”

The time came for Souta to bite his lip. Lily could practically see the gears turning; it was clear that he didn’t have a response ready. In fact, he could very likely be deciding just how he felt in this moment. A few moments passed before he began to reply, though his words came slow. “I...I am guessing you are not looking for compliments, so I will be candid too. It is...hard to not be, uh...well, it is even hard to say, especially for a tough guy like I am, but it is very hard to not be...intimidated.”

He paused for just a second, and swallowed. “I mean...everything about you is amazing, not just your looks. Your fighting, your past, your attitude, who you are...it is like a blazing sun, but here I am, just a candle. I know you do not want to make me afraid, but...feelings of inadequacy, helplessness, unknown...they are pretty scary. I...I do not know exactly. Maybe this sounds like nonsense to you. That might be because you really are on that different, higher level. It is nice being with you, of course, but there is always this pressure I feel, surrounding me. I...I am sorry, but if I am someone who cannot live up to the expectations of his own family and friends, how am I…?” He held up a hand by his head, running his fingers through his hair. “O-of course, none of this is your fault. It is similar with Fenn, the Council. I am surrounded by beings who are so much greater. It is...a heavy pressure.“ Not able to meet Lily’s eyes for a few moments now, he continued to stare at his forge.

Lily had heard it all before. Maybe not often, but it was a spiel she was familiar with. And she found one thing that often seemed to work. She reached out and gently took hold of his chin and forced him to look at her, and then placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, there was a softness to her eyes that only the likes of Cassandra had ever seen. “And yet, here you are,” she said and put her hands back in her lap. “Don’t misunderstand, Souta. We are indeed powerful, but so are you. It is all relative. There are demons that still scares the living daylights out of me, and whom I would never want to cross, and likewise there are demons who are so much weaker than I that I don’t have to care about them.” She smiled and poked him pointedly in the chest with a nail. ”You are the exact same way. Compared to other humans, you are a force to be reckoned with. To some I am weak, to others I am strong. And so it is with you.” She smiled and gestured to the room around them, and the Citadel at large. “And it’s not all strength. If you hadn’t the courage and drive to face things far stronger than yourself, and emerge victorious, then you wouldn’t be here… Sometimes, it’s just a matter of being a little brave.” She paused, the smile staying on her lips for a few moments before she chuckled awkwardly. “But please don’t tell Fenn about me being afraid of some. He’d never let me live it down.”

A short quiet persisted between the two. Souta had made no resistance, accepting with obvious gratitude Lily’s reassurance and gesture of affection, yet the subtlest hint of misgiving remained. Still, the distraught look that had haunted him during his confession had ebbed away, leaving him with a slight smile. “...Your secret is safe with me,” he told her.

“And last time you looked stunned when I kissed you,” she said, smirking. “You’re improving… How shall I take that difference in reaction, I wonder?” Some might say that she, at this moment, looked like the cat who caught a mouse. Others, that she was a mischievous demon who caught a human.

Though he seemed to guess that Lily wasn’t completely serious, Souta furrowed his brow. “Er...it was a lot more surprising the first time. So...take it as normal?”

Lily dipped her head in acknowledgement briefly. “I shall do so, then,” she said. “But I wonder, where will it go from here?” She looked him in the eyes meaningfully, the corner of her lips twitching upwards. “I have made my feelings quite clear, I think. It’s up to you to do what you will.”

Once again, Souta swallowed. “Okay. Thank you. I will keep that in mind.”

Satisfied, at least somewhat, with the answer, Lily stood up and turned towards the door. “I will be looking forward to it, then. Oh, and by the way,” she looked back at him over her shoulder, “if you ever feel lonely, give me a call.” She winked at him, and was gone, the door closing behind her.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

Threw up a short thing... Very short. Anywho, might prove of interest to you @Lugubrious

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

The forge was empty. So were the hallways, and pretty much every other place Lily had looked.

One wouldn't think it difficult for a demon nearly three millennia old to find a single human, but as it turned out such a thing was difficult. She had only the clicking of her own shoes for company as she walked around the Citadel. He hadn't even been in his room when she checked, making the whole situation even more mysterious. Was he avoiding her? No, that was unlikely, unless her more... beastly sides had scared him, but then again he was also a fighter, and likely among the most powerful humans to exist. It was a difficult thought to accept, that he had somehow been frightened by her, when he himself made use of weapons on the level of some lesser demons' powers. She felt a frown come onto her face. If that were truly the case, then she had misjudged him. Arkoni, the frailest of them all, was clearly no more frightened of her and Fenn than a tiger would be of a lion. A healthy respect for a powerful creature, most likely, but frightened? She doubted it.

She exhaled, expelling the thoughts with the same breath. She hadn't been mistaken, she knew it. If a baker from France had not been frightened enough by her to run away, then neither would someone who fought and killed both demons and angels. It was a thought that brought a small smile on her face, and added a small skip to her steps.

She ought to check some of the places she'd been again. If she could travel to and from Earth for whatever errands she wanted to run, then so could he. If he had been out, then it was likely that he would be in his chambers. It was in the other end of the Citadel from where she was, so it gave her plenty of time to consider both her looks and presentation. The dress she wore was one she knew to be a cheongsam. It fell to her ankles and had a cut in the right side from the thigh down, allowing her to walk unhampered. She realised it was of chinese origin, and not japanese, but she preferred the aesthetic of this one over the kimono. She had also chosen are far more slender figure this time, having noted that Souta's attention was not quite where she wanted it to be, if a conversation was to successful. She had no intentions of seducing the man. This time, she just wanted to talk, and hand over a gift she thought he might appreciate.

Minutes later she was back at the door which she knew lead to Souta's room. Not one to hesitate when there were things she wanted, Lily raised her hand and knocked.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

@Sho Minazuki
I did. Over a year ago :p I've just been waiting to introduce her. She's already in the Character Sheet Tab

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

And a new girl is in town! Or in the Citadel, as it were.

The Three Realms War [A DMC, Bayonetta and Darksiders RP]

Frustrations had to be let out. Some people fought, others wrote down their issues, and some people channelled them into art of various kinds. Lily was neither of these.

In some ways, she resembled a great deal of human women in this regard, in that she went shopping. Although, to call it shopping might be a misnomer, as what she did was usually either plain steal, or manipulate the cashiers into letting her leave without paying. This time, however, was different, for she had actually paid for all of the items currently contained within the three, large bags dangling from her arms. One she had filled to the brim with new clothes, seeing as how a couple of sets had been ruined lately, thanks in part to her shapeshifting — she really needed to find a way to let her clothes meld with her form when she became half dragon, like she did when she let her magic take over her body — but she also because she had had second thoughts about a few of the attires she had... acquired the last time she had gone shopping, and had subsequently torched them. A pink cocktail dress, really? She grimaced at the mere thought.

The other two bags were occupied by less fashionable items, with one of them doomed to smell like the living dead if not refrigerated. Its contents were courtesy of a few German butchers, and should hopefully serve as a snack for Fenn. Possibly two. Sausages, hams, beefs, lamb chops, et cetera. She couldn't help but wonder what he'd think of the curry wurst. It was something of a delicacy, or at the very least good enough to warrant its international fame. She liked it, at the very least.

The third, and final, bag was filled with an assortment of jewellery and random nicknacks, sans a peculiar, cylindrical package, and was only about filled halfway, and was the smallest of the three bags at that. She had had the modesty to only buy the things she knew she would use at some point in the nearest future. That being the next hundred or so years.

As it was nearing night time, Lily decided that it was time to take a rest before returning back to the Citadel, and the rest of her temporary allies. She found a tiny square that was, for the most part, abandoned, save the occasional drunk or cocky teen passing through, and sat down on one of the nearby benches. She discarded her hat — it was akin to a very wide-brimmed fedora — and let her hair tumble down her back; thick, wavy and the colour of cornflowers. The day had been exhausting, not the least of which was because of the fighting in that obnoxious forest. Actually, it was mostly that. The arrogance and hypocrisy of the angels, their blind loyalty and ignorance. They had failed to heed her warnings, failed to see that there was more to gain in working together, and so had been the cause of yet another seal being destroyed. Not even the famed Son of Sparda had been of much help. Heirs of the mightiest Demon to have ever existed; so strong that even she dared not try to compare herself to the monolith that was Sparda. Sometimes the apple did not fall far from the tree. In this case, it had tumbled down the hill, it seemed. Had he at least been successful at stalling him, she could have vaporized him then and there. At least the fragment of his power that had slithered its way into the mortal realm.

She sighed, feeling some more of her frustrations and tiredness from the day escape her. Shopping always felt nice. Simply the act of being able to acquire new things; the novelty of it was what enticed her so. After so many years, she wondered if perhaps it was only natural to desire novelty. Strange though it may seem, and much to her surprise, she never quite seemed to catch up. There was always something new. It made her smile. Humans, she thought.

She rested a hand over her breast, feeling the slow beat of her own heart, and the cold, glassy surface of the necklace she always wore. She held it up for herself to see, quirking an eyebrow as her green eyes were reflected in its metallic surface. Green really did go well with this hair colour.

Black on red on black. An obsidian sphere, ruby sphere, and an obsidian oval. A gift from times long since past, and the beginning of a tradition. It resembled an eye few humans had ever seen, fewer demons and angels still. She remembered the day fondly; so long ago, and yet still so vivid. Who would have thought that—

A faint rustle from above, like that of flapping clothes against the wind. Lily reacted without thinking, acting on instinct far moreso than any cognitive thought. She was on her feet—paws—before the sound even came within metres of her; her body already that of a half-feline and a long, straight blade held in her grasp.

A distinctly human shape wreathed in cloth fell down where she had been, its silvery blade piercing the bench where she had been seated moments before. It moved in a blur, tearing the blade out of the bench and charging against Lily once more, forcing her to parry. Moving faster than any human should be able to, the attacker struck again, moving fluidly, and expertly moved past Lily's defense and struck at her heart, only for the attack to bounce off of a hastily made Projected around her torso.

Enraged, moreso that someone dared risk harming her medallion than herself, Lily went on the offence. Her opponent was an expert, but she was stil the faster one. She met her blow for blow, fighting back the cowled figure, forcing them on the defensive as she hailed down attacks with swords, axes, polearms and spears. And yet, somehow, her opponent did not back down, flee, or even get hurt. Every slash was parried; every lunge flicked aside.

Finally, she had had enough, morphing her sword into her black-read spear, point at her opponent. From beneath the cowl she could see a smile, and then they charged. She held them on point, and lunged.

A flicker of silver, and the spear was knocked aside. Lily didn't even have time to process what had just happened before she felt cold metal against her neck. Cold and slightly damp, as if mist clung to it. She looked down at the cowled figured, glanced at the mirror-polished blade, then at the hand holding it; delicate, feminine, and around the wrist... A bracelet, with a ruby, a sapphire, and a piece of obsidian attached to it.

Realisation dawned upon her just as her would-be assailant pulled back the hood, smiling up at her with violet eyes. "Bonjour mère."

It happened so rarely that it was a novelty to feel it again: Surprise, and delight. "Fayette, Little Fairy," she said, returning to her human appearance. She pulled the other woman into a hug, feeling another pair of arms wrap themselves around her. She only let go several long moments later, holding her at arm's length. "Decades," she said, smiling wider than she had thought herself able to today, "it's been decades, and not a word. But, what does it matter. You're here." She sighed, but ended up chuckling halfway through. "Attacking me, really? I could have seriously hurt you," Lily said, worry in her voice and on her face.

The woman, Cassandra, grinned wider. "Judging by your frantic swinging with your sword, I don't think she," she said, speaking with a light, French accent. She let her gaze fall, and gently ran her fingers along the medallion around Lily's neck, smiling fondly at it. "But, you have improved."

"Have I now?" Lily asked wryly, only to be met by that unbelievably sincere smile again.

"Oui."

Lily chuckled in spite of herself and let go of Cassandra, moving over to where the contents of her bags lay scattered across the ground. It came as no surprise to see Cassandra kneel down beside her, and help with putting everything back where they belonged. She held up a couple of golden earrings, squinting at them thoughtfully, then glancing at the other woman. Maybe... Yes. I think that would work. She held up the two golden hoops in front of Cassandra, and met her uncertain stare with a nod. "For you," she said.

Cassandra went through a series of facial expression at that statement; from surprise, to delight, to suspicion, then to a quiet joy. "Thank you," she said and accepted them, making quick work of the tags. She had them in her ears a few moments later and was inspecting herself in a mirror she conjured herself. "How much did they cost?" She asked, turning to Lily.

"About two hundred euro," she admitted while carefully putting the cylindrical package back in its bag. "Why?"

Cassandra turned to face her fully, trying to meet her eyes. "And did you pay for it?"

Lily nodded, smirking as she met Cassandra's gaze. "I did."

"Your own money?" She pressed.

Lily was about to say that, yes, they were her own money, when Cassandra did nothing more than raise an eyebrow. She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked away, an embarrassed blush painting her cheeks.

"Mother!"

"He bragged about how much money he had," she said in her own defence. "I hadn't intended to steal anything until I heard this braggart talking about how rich he was, and showing off his wallet to his date. So I thought I'd just... Teach him a lesson in humility. So I helped... him?"

Cassandra sighed, hanging her head. "Qu'est-ce que je vais faire avec toi."

Lily huffed, and glared at Cassandra. "Don't use that tone of voice on me, little Lady." She paused, then mellowed out a bit. "Regardless, I didn't take from someone who needed the money badly. If his car and clothes were anything to go by, emptying his wallet didn't really hurt him much."

Cassandra looked up, squinting at her, then allowed herself a small chuckle. "You never change, mother," she said and put the last dress back in the bag. She rose and handed it to Lily. "Please, never change."

She took the bag, and hefted the two others. "I have no intentions of doing so, Little Fairy," she said, and meant it. "But what have you been doing lately?"

Cassandra shrugged and donned Lily's discarded hat. She nodded approvingly. "Très peu. I was in Russia a couple months ago, travelled here through Ukraine, went through Poland and spent a few weeks in Czech, then came here a week or so ago." She turned in place, looking at the various buildings and rooftops, stopping only once she faced the setting sun, her eyes locked on the red-and-purple clouds. "And you?" She asked.

Lily hesitated, unsure of how much she could say. Cassandra was her daughter, one of the few people she trusted completely, but this was dangerous knowledge... And yet, she was a grown woman, however many centuries and millennia separated them. By human standards, Cassandra was among the oldest in history. She could make her own decisions. "I have been involved with the Charred Council. They are the faction that enforced the ceasefire between Heaven and Hell some two millennia ago. Someone is out to break the Seals and force another cataclysmic war; one that will inevitably result on Humanity's extinction of not stopped." With every word she felt her hackles rise; felt the churning core of fire in her gut start to flare with anger. Her fists clenched almost of their own accords. "I can't let that happen," she whispered, forcing herself to remain calm.

Cassandra, on the other hand, did not seemed so torn up about it. She was studying Lily, her face almost impossible neutral. Casual, even. Someone who knew her less might have thought she didn't care, but Lily knew better. She was just good at hiding what she thought. Always had been. Once Lily had finished her small tirade, she crossed her arms and looked her mother square in the face. "I'm coming with you," she said, then held up a hand to forestall the rebuttal Lily had already opened her mouth to say. "No ifs, no buts. I am older than most humans will ever be, and I am a part of this world as much as anybody else. Even moreso than you, mother, because I am half human; a fact that I am proud of. And that's not even mentioning that even you," she swept an arm out at Lily, "who taught me everything I know, cannot beat me with a sword, and you have literally twenty times the experience I do. So no, I will not let you keep me out of this. If my family — if Humanity — is in danger, than I am not going to sit idly by."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't even rightly know what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Concern? No... Neither of those. The one that was most prevalent was one she was oh so familiar with. It was Pride. Not in herself, but in her daughter. And it was said pride that swept aside her anger, and brightened her entire expression. "If that is what you wish, Cassandra," she said and put a hand on her daughter's head, ruffling her hair. "Now, if you really wanna join, you probably should meet the rest. There are actually two other Humans fighting beside us." She turned to the side, calling into empty air for one of the Watcher's to appear.

A few seconds passed by before the inhuman, six-eyed creature that was one of the Watchers faded into view before them. It regarded Lily with something akin to disdain, and annoyance that it was forced to answer her call. Something she returned with a smirk.

"We need to return," she told it, and reached out to grasp Cassandra's hand. "This is Cassandra, she will be joining us in the fight to defend the Seals. You have no objections, I hope?"

"None. I'm not the one who's bringing a fashionista — with horrible fashion sense, I might add — to a war." If it had a mouth Lily knew it would be grinning. "But it's not me who's dying. But fair warning, the Citadel might make your fancy shoes dirty!"

Neither Lily nor Cassandra replied, simply staring it down until it, finally, it seemed to grow tired of trying and snapped its fingers, bringing them to the realm of the Charred Council.

---

They appeared before the gates that lead to the Citadel, and while Lily was used to it, Cassandra was not. She gaped wide-eyed and open-mouthed at it, muttering a quiet "Wow." She wordlessly followed Lily into the fortress, heading for their room.

"How big is this place?" Cassandra asked, still looking up at the ceiling far above them, and around at every door and hallway they passed.

"No idea," Lily admitted, turning down one such hallway. "Big enough to allow an elephant to walk around without much trouble. As for the entire fortress, I can only guess. Far larger than any human castle I've ever seen." She stopped in front of a large double door, placing one hand against it but didn't open it. She turned to Cassandra. "This is my room, which I'm sharing it with someone else. I'm sure you remember how to get here—" Cassandra nodded "—so you're free to go explore. For the most part, just ignore the Watchers, they are like foul-mouthed imps. Anyone else here will most likely be friendly, maybe a bit confused as to your presence, but explain it to them and everything should be fine." She pushed open the door a bit, allowing Cassandra to see just enough to spot the large, queen-sized bed in one end of the room. "Now, I'll get my things here sorted out, and come find you later. Come find me if you need anything."

Cassandra nodded, and managed to dart in and give Lily a peck on the cheek before she darted off, a faint "À bientôt, mother!" In her wake.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Lily remained wary of the golem as it approached, keeping her tails moving behind her should anything happen and she needed to unleash hell.

Brucie seemed more intrigued than cautious, looking every time something sparked, glinted, or made a sound, and it was only with the utmost self-control, and—Lily suspected—the knowledge that she would be more than a little sour if he started picking things up, that he refrained from poking around at the nearest oddity.

Luckily for her and her companions, the Golem shed its skin, as it were, leaving behind something that resembled a human. His arms were still stone, and he wore an odd eyepatch. She kept her expression carefully neutral, her only response to him was a small incline of her head, by way of greeting and answer to his question. In a way, she appreciated the way he discarded the usual niceties, instead going straight to business.

She looked at Brucie expectantly, and the Shark stepped forward and extended his right arm, displaying the broken water cannon. “Would like to see if you could repair this,” he said. “Got broken yesterday, ain’t better than a kitchen tap now.”

On instinct Serval reached up toward the defunct weapon, but his stony chrome fingers stopped a few inches short. His one eye’s gaze turned inquiring as he hesitated. “Does it detach? If so, may I take it?”

The hammerhead gave a nod, and with the curled metal talons of his other hand reached over and began to tinker with the arm casing into which his cannon was slotted. In a few seconds he had opened part of the panel, and after unscrewing both the power cable and the hose Brucie handed the apparatus over.

Gingerly Serval took hold of the object, making sure to pluck it from Brucie’s grip rather than touch his mechanical hand. Once secure, the cannon was brought up before the smith’s eye, and for a couple moments he scrutinized it in great detail. Only the hum of magic and machinery keeping the scene from complete quiet as Serval pored over the weapon, but his face did not deviate from a mellow half-smile until he held his other hand over it and cast some spell, loosening the screws via some near-invisible force until he could see inside. It was then that Serval raised his eyebrows with a contemplative frown, looking over the cannon’s inner workings until he parted his lips with a hooh. Lowering the device, he hung his head in unhappiness. “I am ashamed to admit before honored guests of the Great One that I am unfamiliar with the intricacies of this armament. As such, I would need some time to be able to repair it.” His demeanor now very serious, though tinged by melancholy, Serval raised his head and looked between Brucie and Lily. “I dare not ask you to settle for less, but if it would be at all helpful in the meantime, I can construct a facsimile that operates on magic, able to generate and expel water at high pressure. That would take only a few moments.” With furrowed brows Serval placed the broken cannon on a nearby table. “I can say with absolute certainty that any weapon made under the authority of Air Rave will serve you exceptionally well. So, may I oblige you in this regard?” He clasped his huge, stone fingers together in front of his bare chest, as though begging to be given the opportunity to make up for his shortcoming.

Lily opted for silence still, letting Brucie choose. She didn’t know if the original weapon had much, if any, sentimental value, or if there was some intricacy to his mechanical appendages, that required the cannon to remain attached to his arm. She arched an eyebrow at him, as if to say ”Well?”

Brucie met her eyes briefly and seemed uncertain, if she were to be a judge. Still, he wasn’t human, and his expressions were always difficult to read. He shrugged a few moments later and addressed Serval. “Sure,” he said. “If it works just as well as the last one, and doesn’t run dry, no complaints. Could you make it so it can also send water bombs, too? The other one could do that. It worked, like—” he mimed the firing of a bubble of water, that then exploded “—this, basically. Big ball of water goes boom when fired away from me.”

A grave nod came in reply, though when Serval came up, he was smiling. “Understood. You may wish to stand back, though of course I will be ensuring that nothing hits you, regardless. I hope that my workmanship satisfies.” He pulled apart his hands, and clenched his fingers. In an instant that amount of static electricity in the air shot through the roof, but before anything else could happen, Serval released the energy he stored.

A wave of electromagnetic power surged outward from Serval, filling the entire workshop in no time flat. As they were touched by the energy, compartments in the walls opened up, revealing racks of materials of all sorts. Unbidden, pieces of metal sprang from their resting places, lifting toward Serval like schools of fish homing in on some tasty prize. Parts reached their master and began to fit together or orbit his person. Eye blazing with the same hollow light seen in the golem before, Serval orchestrated the assembly of his project with a conductor’s precision and grace. The cloud of smaller components constructed a couple, larger parts, each analogous to the elements of Brucie’s cannon, which hovered loosely in the air between Serval’s hands. From a colorful rack of metal-housed crystals beside the magic chamber, a handful of pulsing blue gems darted over, taking up a spot in the center of the array. Once they clustered together into a diamond, its combined power stronger than any of the originals stones’, a pronged capsule formed around it that resembled a maw, which closed with a snap around the cluster. With that done, the other pieces converged on the newly-made core one after another, until the final few pieces slotted into place to finish the sleek contraption that made a slow descent into Serval’s outstretched mitt.

With an extravagant bow the smith held it forward. An oblong shape with a clear barrel at the front, it resembled a polished river pebble with a gargoyle face on the front. A lengthwise divide separated its outer shell into an upper and lower half. “Here you are,” Serval said. “It requires no outside attachment, and should socket into your vambrace nicely. Its jet should have no trouble carving through rock at close range. To fire normally, clench your fist. The sensory system was originally made for a living being’s arm muscles, but I attuned it to Mechanica instead, so it will pick up. To fire a bomb, place your opposite hand on top and push down. The bomb will build for as long as the top is compressed, becoming larger but slower. The crystal core will generate water for a long time, but when it does eventually run out, simply find a water source and place the barrel inside. The extractor doubles as an injector, you see. It will infuse and store water just as I believe the original did with electricity.” Serval held his hands behind his back. “My apologies for such a boring explanation. Even if it is a trinket that is unworthy of the Great Ones, I hope you’ll forgive me for excess of pride in my work. Even that artifice is leagues beyond anything a human artificer could dream of, after all. Please utilize it to the utmost, and let me know if I can provide any other help.” Around the three, the infused atmosphere faded, and under the burden of their own weight the various compartment doors throughout the shop fell shut, their troves hidden once again.

Lily hummed and looked over the contraption, clicking her tongue at it. She might not have cared about fashion once, but she had picked up a few opinions of her own over the last decade; just enough that she thought the gargoyle-like mouth of the cannon was tasteless. Or perhaps just needlessly intricate. However much she wanted to, even she couldn’t deny that the work had been accomplished far quicker than she had anticipated. She had expected at least an hour, not a mere minute, if not less. In truth, she was glad that Brucie now had another weapon, as it would make him that much more powerful.

She had witnessed firsthand how powerful that thing could be—and if this Serval’s claims were to be trusted—it now had the power to cut through rock. She did not want to experience what it would do to flesh. The blatant show of power was as exasperating as when Carreau had done it, but she could not argue with results. At least, not until she had a chance to witness it with her own eyes.

She cast a glance at Brucie, one eyebrow raised. “Well? What do you think?” She asked.

“It’s good, I think,” he said, and stopped himself halfway from clenching his fist. He let his metallic fingers relax and instead poked and prodded it with his other hand. Then, in a remarkable display of forethought and intelligence, asked, “You said that the water supply can run out. Any clue how long that’ll take? Say, how many seconds or minutes would it last, if I fired it non-stop?”

Holding one hand up to his mouth, Serval tapped his chin with the knuckle. “Hmm...those were medium-grade crystals, so only about an hour, I’m afraid. Perhaps an hour ten? Medium is the highest grade I’m permitted to use casually, considering all the different types.” His eye widened a touch as he seemed to infer what his guests might be meaning. “I can request access to higher grade if you find the duration, power, or so forth are insufficient. It will only take more time, which I had assumed was of the essence since you decided against repairs.”

Lily looked up from the new weapon, a slight look of perplexion visible on her way. “‘Decided against repairs’? I was under the impression that this new cannon would be a temporary solution until the original had been repaired.” She pressed her lips together into a thin line, and looked at Brucie. “Or was I mistaken?” She asked hesitantly.

Brucie looked away from his arm and down at her. “Now that you mention it… Ya think that’d be possible, Serval? I don’t, and I don’t think Boss-Lady here does so either, mean to take advantage of the… generosity you’ve shown us.”

Lily quietly thanked Brucie, and agreed with him. She didn’t trust the people in Air Rave, and so staying on their good side was imperative. Being thankful, and mindful to not be greedy when offered a gift, was more important than ever before. She nodded along to his words.

Serval, meanwhile, looked appalled. “I must have misinterpreted your response!” he told Brucie, clapping a hand to his head in self-chastisement. “Please forgive me! I’ll study the weapon night and day until I understand how it works, and can fix it. Of course, new understanding is for the good of Air Rave, too. But my presumptuousness is inexcusable. Oh, I must be casting such a pall on our honor...” He shook his head, and gave a final bow before heading toward the table where he’d placed the broken cannon.

“On the contrary,” Lily said slowly, choosing her words carefully and recalling the tone and intonations so often used by Sylphide, who was known for both her kindness and regality, “your willingness to apologize and make amends, does you and Air Rave credit.” She drummed her fingers against Mouse’s head, causing his ears to flick in mild annoyance. Why was it so damnably hard to be diplomatic? Think. Think. Don’t insult. Accept his apology, but remain in power…?

She caught Brucie’s eyes and he, whether noticing her silent struggle to be cordial, or simple luck, gave her a quick nod before he continued where she had left off. “Like what Lily said, I don’t think it’s bad. Just a misunderstand, is all. Fuzz-Boss—” Lily’s eye twitched “—and I didn’t make ourselves clear, and we also misent… misinterpreted what you said.”

At this point, Lily took over again, old lessons resurfacing. She stood tall, ears forward and tails calm. “And we don’t want to look a gift-horse in the mouth, as it were, but if you would be willing to also repair the old weapon, we would be much obliged. We do not, however, require or demand that you sacrifice your own health to accomplish the task within an unreasonable time-frame… So we—I—apologize for any distress we caused you.”

Throughout the joint effort at placation Serval had been attentive, having turned from his retreat to listen. His tense nerves grew relaxed toward the end, and by the time Lily finished his remarkable distress could scarcely be seen. He took a deep breath, and gave the pair a grateful smile. “Not at all! It is a relief to hear that I’ve not erred too greatly. I am interested in the weapon, so I will devote some time to studying it, but I’ll not go overboard.” He rested a gleaming hand on the nearby table, leaning a little. “And thank you. For your concern. But now, I’m certain I’ve wasted too much of your time. If there is any other way I may service you, please do not hesitate to tell.” He proceeded to seat himself, evidently offering his final statement as farewell if Lily and Brucie had any other business to attend to.

Brucie gave him a grateful, if clumsy, bow, and Lily did her best to mimic it, albeit far more gracefully, pressing her palms together in front of her before doing so—or as well as she could with Mouse still in her arms. “I don’t think there’s anything else,” she said, righting herself. “Although… You don’t happen to have a leash, do you?” She asked, and hefted Mouse so as to emphasize who it was for. “I’d rather have one for him so he doesn’t run off in a place I am unfamiliar with.”

For a brief moment Serval looked confused, though he put two and two together in short order. “A leash…? Ah, for your pet. I don’t have much leather, but I’m sure I have some.” He practically jumped to his feet, his metal legs creating a resounding boom that he ignored, and he jogged over to a large cubbyhole near the entrance. When he opened it, this time by hand, he set to rummaging through the hides and fabrics that filled it until he turned up a harness. With speed and accuracy he pulled bits of it apart, until all that remained was an adjustable loop and a length of hide off it. “A task devoid of my usual flair, unfortunately,” he mourned as he returned to Lily and offered the leash to her. His eye lingered on the little dog’s furry face for a moment. “Delightful creature,” he murmured. The next moment he regained his composure, and hurried back to the cannon. “If I’ve done all I can, then I bid you goodbye.”

Lily accepted the leash with a grateful smile, albeit a small one; only slightly more than the corners turned up. “Thank you,” she said and set Mouse down, fastening it around his neck until it was secure, but loose enough that he wouldn’t be choked. She might have been imagining things, but he gave her a look of what was almost betrayal, but otherwise cooperated. She’d need to bribe him with treats later.

“What now?” Brucie asked, looking up from his new arm-cannon for all of a moment, before returning to poking at it excitedly.

“He offered a dinner earlier. I wonder if the offer is still valid,” she said while adjusting the length of the leash to give Mouse a little freedom, but still keeping him close to her side. “Speaking of Carreau, however,” she said a few moments later, almost as an afterthought. She turned to Serval. “He asked me to say ‘Hello’ on his behalf.” She inclined her head and turned to leave, Brucie at her heels and Mouse at her side.

Back the way we came. It was… This way. Should be able to find our way to Carreau from there.

Ianus Congreatio: Secret societies, horror, and mystery in the shadows of Prague.

Birth Name: Anna Havel
Other Names: Miss Havel

Gender: Female
Age: 21

Rank/Titles/Social Class: Born to a wealthy merchant, Anna's status is relatively modest. She possesses neither the blood nor connection with nobility of any kind.

Appearance:

Appearance Example

A young woman of medium height, Anna stands at just about 160cm tall, slender of build almost to the point of being petite. She has a heart-shaped face with large, expressive, green eyes, and freckles dotting her cheeks and rather small nose. Due to a habit she blames her mother for inspiring, she is almost always seen with red-painted lips. Spending most of her time in-doors, working, she is rather pale as a result, and sometimes finds herself likening her skin to being the colour of moonlight. The rest of her follows the same theme; small hands and feet, though with nearly cornflower-yellow hair that falls in waves down to her waist, the bangs kept in check by a few decorated pins gifted to her by Lucie.

While on the job she usually wears a relatively standard maid outfit, composed of a long, light blue dress with long sleeves and loose fit, over which she wears a white apron, that also becomes akin to a dress from the waist down, the edge stopping a few centimetres above the angles, as opposed to the inner, blue part of the uniform. Her hair is usually tied back in a ponytail or hanging free, but other times braided or otherwise done up.

Personality:
To call Anna a sweet girl would not be wrong, but neither is it entirely accurate. While thoroughly loyal and sweet, she possesses a slightly mischievous streak, that occasionally compels her to make a verbal quip that others with more self-restraint might not have said, something which a particular member of the society finds increasingly entertaining. They are, however, never meant to insult or offend, and only the most uptight and, in her own words, people with the biggest sticks up their arses, will ever take offense at anything she says. Beyond that she is incredibly attentive and quick to learn, especially when it has to do with one of her favourite hobbies: Needlework. Be it knitting, crocheting, or sewing (she is, however, partial to embroidery, sewing various animals into pieces of cloth to hang around her home), so long as it has to do with needle and thread she is always eager.

But in spite of her occasional impishness, she takes care to do her job diligently, and to keep her sharp tongue in check, save when she is around people, who would find it as entertaining as her. As such, she has avoided making too many nobles and members of the Ianus Congregatio scowl at her.

Psychic Talent:
Anna's ability is something a lot of people would equate to future sight, or mind reading, but neither of those are accurate. She does not hear other peoples' thoughts, nor see images of what is to come. Rather, Anna has the innate ability which allows her to expect what people around her wants, often before they have even spoken a single word. In most cases it simply helps her be a maidservant who acts quicker than anybody else. Another application is one she has, in the past, used for self-defence, where it allowed her to foresee what her assailant wanted to do before he attacked, allowing her to duck far before his punch was even halfway toward her.
In less serious moments, it allows for incredible wit, words having formed on her tongue that, much to even her own surprise sometimes. Other times it allows her to know that someone is approaching, and so will open the door even before they knock.

Skills:

• Sewing - As a result of her work, and hobby, Anna is proficient with the needle and thread like few others.
• Cooking - Even though she was born to a, by all accounts, wealthy family, and had some servants, she still learned to cook. She may not be a gourmet chef, but she can make something tasty almost regardless of ingredients.
• Wit - Perhaps not an extraordinary skill, but Anna is a clever and quickwitted young woman, and often has a smart reply on the tip of her tongue.
• Mathematics - Having grown up as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and having watched him go through ledgers, calculations, and various transactions, Anna has gained a keen sense for numbers and equations.
• Business - Maybe not on par with the likes of Aleksandra, Lucie, or Adam Ware, but Anna has still learned enough watching from the sidelines, to have an above average sense for business, including how to watch the market for when there might be a shortage of surplus of various supplies, and how to make good investments.

Weapons/Fighting:

• Marksmanship - Anna possesses just enough skill with firearms to wield one with sufficient proficiency. She would win no contest were she to even enter.
• Hand-to-Hand - Anna knows how to throw a proper punch, but little more.

History:
The date is March 16th 1869 and Anna Havel cries for the first time, newly born to Jana Havel, and greeted was by Josef Havel - her father - and her older brother, Krystof. Her father was a wealthy merchant trading in spice and expensive fabrics, and whatever else he can get his hands on. She grew up with a comfortable life and received a proper education, which involved some lessons on how to defend herself.
All things considered her life was uneventful up until her thirteenth birthday, where she started to notice ideas popping into her head that, whenever she acted upon said ideas, caused peculiar outcomes. Never anything bad or scary, but always peculiar. She would move out of the way while standing underneath an apple tree, only for an apple to fall down exactly where she had stood moments before. She would watch their cook go about his business, only to pick up a particular spice he would then ask her for moments later, only to notice she already held it. This continued for a few years, where she went about her days confused as to what exactly was happening, though not frightened since nothing bad had happened as a result of this 'Intuition' of hers.

It was when she was nearing her sixteenth birthday that a stranger approached her and her family. Someone who introduced themselves as a representative of the Ware Family, and announced that they were currently looking to expand their staff, and were interested in hiring their daughter, for however long she so desired, or until she were to marry, whichever came first. At first stunned by the prospect of having a daughter work for a family of old nobility, Josef and Jana soon agreed to let their daughter work there. Anna was, however, sceptical and stubborn, and it wasn't until this member of the Ianus Congregatio revealed - during a private chat between the two of them -that he, too, possessed a unique talent like herself, and that many others who lived in the Manor possessed very similar abilities, that her hesitance began to wane. He explained to her that many in the House Ianus possessed talents of a psychic nature, and that she had been approached exactly because of hers. That steady work and pay were not the only things she could stand gain by agreeing to this arrangement, but also the continued development and understanding of her Talent, as well as others'.

Knowing all of this, and swearing herself to tell no one of the truth, Anna Havel agreed, and thus went on to work as a maidservant in the Ianus Congregation, learning to better harness her Talent, as well as learning so much more about the world of Psychics she had previously been unaware of.

Random:

• She is the personal maidservant of Lucie Ruzicka, having been requested for that position within a month of Lucie's arrival at the House Ianus. Wary at first, due to the younger woman's incredible height and sometimes odd mannerisms, she soon came to enjoy the position, as the two shared the same kind of wit.