Lewascan2

Grimoiric Heart

@BrokenPromise
Hoi!
Temmie intensifies.

Grimoiric Heart

A thought occurs:

The Nutcracker certainly doesn't seem like the sort of tale to be classified as a Legend.
Which makes me wonder about Eins...
She seems self-depreciating about being a "mere Legend" according to Stripes's POV, and rereading her own post doesn't make the Tabby's conclusion seem inaccurate. Pair that with Eins's warnings to students about using her Tuning for the pursuit of power...
Dons tin-foil hat.
It makes me speculate that Eins used her own Grimoire on itself to seek greater heights and was punished for her folly.
She became a "Legend", but a false Legend in the end. Thus, she has an inferiority complex over her status.

Roma: It's free real-estate.

And oh man, all the Tesni sections are giving me ideas about to do between her and Camelot.

Grimoiric Heart

Since it's going to be a thing going forward, let's go over Revised Grimoires!

An Altered Grimoire is, as the title says, an alternate take on a story that can result in a stable, functional Magical Girl. Exceptions notwithstanding. Looks at Bell and her tentacle fetish. A Revised Grimoire can be either a standard or an Alter, but it's conclusion has been written over or added upon. The entire meaning of a story and its themes can be changed with just a brief line made from the essence of Pageless merged with the Grimoire, turning a story of accepting the inevitable into one of ceaseless struggle and opposition. The changes are not inherently evil but they are action orientated.

It does produce a change in the temper and behavior of the Magical Girl, pulling them into line with their Revision. They also have a connection with the Pageless that must be developed based on their interactions with Pageless. Further Revisions can made if they develop a strong grasp over the Pageless, allowing edits to be made to the Grimoire consiously at the expense of further impulsiveness and heightened emotions.

Beastial changes may occur with their Magical State, altering their form more animalistic charactertics or militant features.

@Lonewolf685

Inhales lore with the force of a dying star.

Aw yeah, that's the stuff. Just what I need to get those plot bunnies spawning again.
Can't wait to catch up enough to the IC to see what this is all about.
Lmfao, apparently the school got attacked or something?
Guess I need to decide why Camelot was absent. Heheh.

Grimoiric Heart

Oh, you're back. It's been at least two whole anime arcs.

@TheWendil

It has?!

Lmfao

Well, I'm just poking in to see if I can fully rekindle my interest. Currently reading through the IC to get a grasp upon what the heck has happened while Camelot has presumably been off-screen recovering. I think if I do jump in, I might want to lead off with a flashback collab post (or segment at the start of her post) to her and Ozma's (and I guess Maria too now, lel) conversation if that is feasible. Might not be due to timey-whimey fuckery, but it's a thought. Still catching up, as mentioned.

Grimoiric Heart

Checks back in months later.

Sees that the IC's powe- size has doubled since last we met.

Sees 900 posts in the OOC.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Chinami Nadakai

"Liliya Montoya"

@Dezuel

"Hurry," urged the sibilantly rumbling voice from within.

"Liliya" grimaced, as she tentatively took several steps down the long hallway. She had drawn the lighter again, and flickering orange light illuminated things enough for her Spirit's unreasonably acute vision to pick out the hallway's details in shocking detail. Several holes in the walls stood ou-

"Time is a luxury, one thou art bereft of!" "This One" urged more strongly. "Thine target makes good on his escape, and thine foes shalt soon fall from behind!"

"I know! Fuck!" Liliya spat, grinding her teeth and really wishing she could throttle the voice. It galled her all the more that her every violent and private impulse was on full display to the demon, but she managed to suck down a series of calming breathes, trying to ignore the clamor of the enraged chess pieces in the room she'd just left.

"Thine intellect is a formidable foe, even to thyself," This One chided unwaveringly. "Thou art 'overthinking' it. For thine Spirit's ward shalt be sufficient for thee. Thou hast only to sally forth to overcome a triviality! Go!"

"Motherfu-!" Liliya bit her tongue to stifle the multitude of unkind things her mouth wanted to uselessly say. Why even say anything at all, after all, when those thoughts would be conveyed the moment she so much as conceived the consideration of them. One closed fist briefly hammered into the wall to her left, fissuring brickwork with a ringing crack. Gnashing her teeth, Liliya clawed back control of her temper before she could devolve into further pointless destruction and bolted down the hall. "You better be telling the fucking truth!"

Pressure plates sounded underfoot to her Spirit's acute hearing, subtle wards brushed over her shielded skin with a touch she couldn't even feel, such was their futility. Darts whizzed from the walls here and there, but she swatted the projectiles away, their threat trivialized by accelerated perceptions. Skidding up to a sudden drop, she didn't even bother humoring the stairs, her Spirit's lift aiding her in a guided free-fall of a glide down into the depths. The path forward was getting less straight-forward, now winding and curving in a gentle arc. It made enough sense. The library above was only so big. If they wanted to hide a space down here within property lines, that might need some adjustment.

A second door lay carelessly open. Reverio's doing, no doubt, as Liliya slowed down and extinguished her lighter again. The scent of long-settled dust, ink, paper and parchment hung heavy in the air. If it weren't for how deep she had some grasp of them being, Liliya might have wondered at the height of the ceiling and the subsequently looming rows of bookcases. Crouching low, even with her mission in mind, she found her gaze wandering, as she crept forward silently, her Spirit liberating her of the need to touch the ground by all of an inch.

Liliya couldn't help the bubbling feeling of... anticipation(?), nostalgia(?), trepidation(?) or even glee(?) that welled up within her at the sight of every untouched dusty surface, so many fonts of knowledge and enticingly deceptively mundane objects all too amazingly untouched by the ravages of time. Preservation magecraft? Perhaps. She couldn't help but visualize grand scenes of the empty armored suits lurching to life to loyally defend their trove of information against thieves and plucky adventurers. Her mind's eye could paint images of the gorgeous, looming tapestries lurching to life a cursed facsimiles of magic carpets to smother the unwary. She could see wards and traps and guardians without end, almost expected them even... which made it somehow more unnerving that, even with the delicate materials within, not a one of those eventualities came to pass.

Even so, there was a low buzz in the air that set the crimson-eyed girl's teeth on edge, eyes narrowing at the distant piercing white glow of Reverio's magic. "Thou feels such?" the demon within rumbled in seeming bemusement. "A fortunate turn. Thou must cradle some portent of magical potential within. Hrmm... This One supposes such would be only natural."

Liliya stifled the urge to snap at the demon for silence, but he quieted all the same, perhaps exercising some tact for once to allow her to concentrate. She crept up to the outskirts of a large "plaza" of some sort, furnished seemingly by only stone benches and tables and ringed by more sizable bookcases, one and all stuffed to the brim with more surely forbidden knowledge. On one end of the room, a shimmering barrier thrummed with a sensation she could almost swear was rumbling in her bones, even from this distance. On the other end of the room, casting yet more light upon its darkened expanse... was Reverio.

She'd finally caught up.

"Careful," suddenly came the demon's voice, raising Liliya's hackles. "That book..."

Crouching, still not even physically touching the ground, Liliya ensured she was out of sight and listened carefully. In the emptiness of the vast room, words seemed to bounce off stonework surfaces with ease, and Liliya imagined her own approach was only concealed by the chatter Reverio was currently engaging in. Chatter with... a book? No, the book, the one the demon had felt compelled to mention. Ghastly words echoed off the walls, and Liliya couldn't help a small shiver of tension crawling up her spine at the almost double toned(?) voice. 'What about it?' her returned mental inquired prodded.

"There lay significant magical bindings upon it," This One replied, his tone considering. "They conceal what lies within from This One's gaze, but should a soul be contained as it so claims..."

'Then it's probably something that shouldn't be allowed to go free,' Liliya finished the implied statement. 'Like the Great Evil, for example?' The demon didn't dignify her prodding at his hypocrisy with an answer, which perhaps in and of itself was a victory. Was she supposed to be worried, when this demon seemed interested in freeing one of his kind's most legendary enemies? Assuming there was anything left to truly free. It had been centuries, even millennia ago.

Crimson eyes narrowed, her Spirit's enhanced vision clearing up the distant cover of the book, a velvety-crimson expanse was marked only by a metallic symbol depicting three swords arranged in a triangular arrangement with their points meeting in the center of the book's cover. She reviewed what her Spirit had committed to memory of the conversation she'd caught the tail end of. Three swords. One "Great Door". A seal, which presumably held a portion of the Great Evil. Unfortunately, almost as if by some twisted design of fate, it seemed Reverio already had one of those swords, and given what she had heard from Ken's Nightman session and the events afterwards... Liliya would have bet good money that he had the second blade, that wind sword.

Her intuition agreed. Former archeologist and tomb raider that she was, while her memory was a bit fuzzy on some things, a legend of three swords sounded familiar. Far more confirmable in the modern era, she could definitely say that Izumo possessed a royal sword that could command the winds. As a royal himself, she could easily say Reverio would be informed on the artifacts of his rival nations, especially given his wielding of one himself. Which meant, Reverio... already had two of the three pieces of the puzzle all but in hand. The only mysteries were the Albion "Key" and the Great Door itself.

"He is leaving," warned the demon, jerking Liliya's attention back to reality. Across the room, she could see Reverio being prompted into revealing a secret passage. "This state of being may be impractical long-term. Hunger. Thirst. Rest. Eventually, thou shall fall behind inexorably." It wasn't exactly an incorrect assertion. If she was unable to freely approach Reverio...? Or worse, if he realized he was being followed by her and had time to discern her methods and be on guard for them, she wouldn't be able to hunt him as easily. Besides, she had a life, and could she really afford to put it on hold for an indeterminate amount of time? Ideally, this "Liliya" guise would be free to be as close to Reverio as she liked.

Was the demon suggesting that she... openly collaborate with him? That sounded way too risky, especially with that obviously evil book around. Who knew if it had some way to see through her guise. She'd be revealed! And she wasn't sure if she wanted to find out if Reverio realized she was Chinami. Besides, as far as he knew, she was a complete stranger! And while she knew he was overly trusting, was he really dumb enough to let her just walk up to him and join his quest that she so "conveniently" overheard? How was she supposed to sell that?!

"Easily," the demon prompted. Liliya felt a nudging within, and her gaze followed it to... the Tome of the Trium Throne? "Obtain what he could not for the sake of his so-called grand plan, and the royal simpleton will accept you into his inner circle gladly and without qualms."

She hoped the demon realized that she had not a prayer of doing shit to that barrier, right? Even the first trap's defenses had nullified her! Though, granted, she hadn't wasted time trying to pound through the barriers directly to find out, but the point still stood! The book could still find her out!

"It will not," the demon asserted confidently. "This One detects no attempted intrusions upon thine mind and soul, and This One shalt rebuff them regardless. Thine deceptions shalt hold for so long as thou art wise. Rather, This One hast been warding thee since thou intruded upon these grounds. Thou shalt leave no trace for even divination to follow."

As much as she really didn't want to admit it -and hated that she even needed the aid, that was a comfort to Liliya. She knew, in theory, that her Spirit could have -and had- done such warding itself, but its coverage wasn't complete or direct. If someone had scried in a spiritual manner, she'd have been made... at least partially. She still had her disguise as an extra measure, but that could only go so far if the postcognitive was able to trace her even further back than she'd had it. With the demon's own measures included? She might as well be a ghost to investigators.

That still didn't mean she could break the barrier, unless it was somehow also going to have her Spirit as a hole in its defenses.

"It does not," the demon confirmed, to her relief(?). "However, that shalt matter none. Simply approach the barrier... and This One shall do the rest." Liliya's expression fell, but she grimaced in resignation. The obviously evil book Reverio had found could be anything or anyone. There was no guaranties it would lead Reverio where he wanted to go, that it would tell the truth. In fact, there was no certainly that it even knew where to find what Reverio wanted at all and wasn't just lying out of its nonexistent ass.

They needed the Trium Tome.

And they needed to pray that it wasn't a red herring itself.

Then it was time to reveal herself and hopefully create an "in" to Reverio's ridiculous plan. Question was, just what "flavor" of this persona she was crafting did she want to lead introductions with? First impressions were important... and she already had unfortunately recent first-hand experience in how they could be unusually deceiving.

Still... even if it was transparently blatant, the play she was about to make, she needed to at least make a token effort to not give her demonic leech anything for free. 'So, you want me to join up with Reverio openly... is that a request?' After all, she could still perform the demon's plan once Reverio was out of sight. In fact, it might even be better that way. She knew where two of the swords were, so all she needed to do was get to the third Albion one first, along with the Great Door. With the Trium Tome's presumably illuminating contents as evidence, Ken would be easy to goad into joining forces with her. She could reveal Reverio's plans from the get-go and put an end to this foolishness. In fact, why was she even entertaining this? In the end, the only result that mattered was finding where the Great Evil was sealed. It didn't matter how she did that. And moreover, freeing it wasn't part of the Deal, simply an assumed result of allowing Reverio to do as he pleased...

'How much do you want the Tome of the Trium Throne?' she inquired leadingly. 'Or rather... how much more useful to you is the ability to follow Reverio in your suggested manner?' It had better be good, because in the end, she was willing to wait for her soul to heal naturally. If it might cost her everything else she'd built to get just that back, why in the world would she make that trade?

The demon remained silent, before finally... "This One spoke of thine mystical talent, uncultivated but... innate to thine kind..." That was a confusing statement, Liliya could only think. Humans didn't have any innate magic, to her knowledge. The capacity for it was always a divine "Gift". "This One will teach you to awaken that sorcerous potential... and how to use it."

Once more, strange statements continued to pile up. Sure, she had a Gift, but she'd never really felt herself a spellcaster. Even so, if this was true... Magic... It was one of the most flexible Gifts in existence, coming in every shape and size, potentially unlimited in possibilities. She'd always been a little jealous of Cel, whose talent for such things was undeniable. She often wished her own Gift had manifested in an innate grasp of such things. She would have been able to do so much more with her powers in public without turning heads.

So then...

'Is that a Deal?' She felt that familiar power on her tongue.

Might as well make it formal.

"So, shall it be."

This felt like such a bad idea.

'In exchange for joining Reverio's cause directly-'

"-This One shalt provide mystical tutelage."

It seemed almost strange that the demon would be so accomodating.

'And until such a time as the Great Evil is found-'

"-So mote it be."

But given the lenient wording...

"The Pact is struck."

She wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

---

As the shelf pulled open into a newly-revealed passageway, a metallic 'clink' and the light clap of footsteps began to echo upon the vast room's stonework. The owner, a bespectacled girl of bone-white hair and ruby eyes casually entered the area with a disaffected look of placidity upon her face. In one hand, she held an open book, and in the other, she held a flickering orange lighter as a makeshift candle agaisnt the darkness. But her gaze seemed far more focused on the tapestries and great painting of the chamber. The faintest smile seemed to cross her lips, as her head tracked to the still shimmering barrier around the Tome of the Trium Throne.

She spared Reverio barely half a glance, as if it were utterly unusual for him to be present whatsoever. In fairness, the sweater-clad girl similarly appeared a bit too young to be a trusted member of the library staff, and she had no escort. She glanced at the passageway opened by Reverio, raising a single pale brow, before stepping towards the domed barrier without a word.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

@Creative Chaos
Message for you in the discord. Your post unfortunately has a couple problems.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

@Creative Chaos
And with that, my approval is had for Nico.

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

A plot bunny that is no longer functionally a WIP. Ready for potential approval.

All She Touches Turns to Gold

Portrait

_{"Why settle for less than more?"
Height: 5'7"}

Name: Amelia Drake
Age: 16
Sex: Female.
Eyes: Amber-Gold
Hair: Blonde
Nationality: Albion
Grade: St. Laurel's School of Divine Excellence. 1st year

Biography:

"Never settle for less than more."

Amelia Drake did not know where she had heard the words or, indeed, whether she had truly "heard them" at all. Had they come from her father? Her sister? A business associate? Perhaps she'd picked them up from a particularly charming little story or piece of televised media... Or maybe she'd always known them, lived them, breathed them. She was a Drake. She was born in the concept of more. Molded by it. She could not conceive of the idea of less until she was old enough to comprehend that what her mother gave her was not what other children got.

And she couldn't have been more envious.

It was silly, really. She had everything else. A great sister. A father to inherit an empire from. Wealth for which there seemed no end. And servants and lessers beyond counting to serve her every whim. The best food. The best drink. The best financial and political contacts. The best investments. Tutors with Gifts specifically tailored to grant their students an inhuman capacity for learning and mental maturation. The best trainers and coaches to carve her a body that could compete athletically with the best of them. She was a prodigy. The best grades in her classes (aside from the damned Gift combat), earned legitimately and not through sycophants. She may have been the second heir, but she and her sister were not competitors... No! They were collaborators! And one day, this empire would be theirs and theirs alone, with no succession crisis to be found! She had it all!

Near enough to it...

But not a mother's love... nor a Gift.

She wasn't sure which of those things burned more.

Was she not worthy? Was she not ideal?! Her father had a Gift! Her sister had a Gift! Even that Rotten Lush had a Gift! So, why not her?! It couldn't be her wealth and advantages denying her the opportunity. Her father was so wealthy that some even said he surpassed the gods! Surely, if anything would be an insult, it was that, right?! But he was still given power. Her older sister, also born into the lap of luxury, had been blessed as well, and even now, she wove her schemes and forged her armies! And that- that Lush! That lazy sack of waste and unambitious stagnation, wallowing in a contemptable pit of disgrace! She was the proof that even garbage was worth the attention of the gods-!

So.

WHY?!

NOT?!

HER?!

But the gods were ever distant. Always had been. Always would be. At least, that was how she consoled herself. And so, begrudgingly, spitefully, she put her envy behind her. For in the end, it was not envy, not particularly a desire to have anyone else's Gift as her own. No, she just wanted more. Always more. Ever more. It didn't necessarily have to be a Gift the temporarily filled that pit in her chest that endlessly swallowed every fortune and favor she acquired. She could do without. She had to. She would. Because, as her father might say, time was money, and she was wasting time.

So, she invested. She schmoozed. She smiled and waved, partied and courted. She could not do what her father did. Nor could she do what her sister did. But she could find her niche in the family in other ways. And so she would. Admittedly, it had been more a hobby and passing interest of hers, but after seriously considering it, she would soon to begin the process of funding and maintaining a modern warship navy under the Drake family to protect... and ruthlessly enforce their interests.

Admittedly, these movements in the world by the daughter of such a figure as Arthur Drake were not quiet, and without a Gift to aid her own self-defense, she was for all her skill, comparatively vulnerable. To that end, in the course of her pursuit of becoming an alarmingly young arms dealer like her father before her, she would be gifted by her sister a personal automaton bodyguard. Dubbed Ivory, the combat model would be her quiet -if occasionally snarky- companion for years thereafter, till the present day. She wouldn't quite call them friends, but they had a bond that could perhaps be called genuine.

And then came the fall of Vauquelin... and the resulting assassins come to finish what the revolution had started. Admittedly, Amelia would not have been bothered on an emotional level should her drunken lush mother have fallen to their predations... But as a matter of principle, this scum that wanted to take what was hers deserved everything they got. Amelia had not thought herself a sadist, but she definitely enjoyed listening to the recordings she asked Darla to make of the... proceedings involving the captive hitmen.

Oh, publicly, she was plenty contrite, even genuinely unnerved by the level of frankly unnecessary sadism employed by Darla in her "experiments". Morbidly interested though she was, that didn't mean she didn't understand why her father would be... concerned when those indiscretions came to light. Privately with Darla, however, she could only muse at the hypocrisy of their father. It wasn't like those men weren't going to die anyway. Waste not, want not. The number of deaths caused by their father indirectly or otherwise simply made Darla's offense insignificant by comparison. And it was for that reason -and her already brewing thoughts of usurpation- that solidified Amelia's loyalties to her sister... in private.

Publicly, she put on a show, of course, carefully condemning the acts when she must, but otherwise remaining silent of the matter. And Darla was quite understanding, she thought, given that they'd discussed it in private. They both knew Darla could have rebelled against her father's punishment, even gone for a "promotion" a little early if need be. But for the time being? Darla would go to Rhea, would humor the Drake patriarch. And Amelia would play her part, waiting and watching for the right moment...

All Darla had to do was say the word.

Powers (to be awakened IC, currently locked):

Core Power: Golden Rule:
A blessing from either the God of Wealth (or the Greed aspect awakened by Caelum Ripper). Allows her to mark objects and creatures she physically touches, including herself. She can be selective enough to target only a single article of clothing, for example, or to include the person wearing it and everything else on their person. The marks are invisible and remain indefinitely on inanimate objects and up to 24 hours on living beings. After taking "ownership" in this manner, her power archives the target in her memory. She will never forget a marked target, and she has an innate awareness of the exact position of all things she "owns" in relation to herself. Much like a brooding dragon, she will never lose sight of her hoard. Once marked, she can do a variety of things.

Sub 1: All the World's Treasure:
Can instantaneously teleport anything she has marked to a position near herself (within 100 meters). When it arrives, it is always in the exact condition it was when she marked it, immediately totally repairing all damage and undoing all conditions (good or bad) it may have taken since then. This can function as a heal for the living, but it cannot normally restore souls that have already left the plane she currently resides in or other spectral targets, like someone's mana pool, only physical conditions. She must have a manner to physically touch a soul, for example, to affect it. There is a size limitation, but she can still manage something as big as a truck.

Sub 2: At Her Fingertips:
For objects too large to teleport, she can make golden portals to their location and either extend part of the target through the gap temporarily or pass other objects or living creatures through to the marked target's location. Should she wish it, this function also repairs any portion of the target that she extends through the portal. She can also use this portal variant to move smaller objects, and any marked object that is extending through one of her portals is also under her telekinetic command, to the point of being able to launch them like projectiles at bullet velocities. What may pass through these portals is entirely at her discretion, able to selectively allow one person or object but not another, allow light or sound to pass through alternatively, etc. The portals are like mist to anyone and anything not allowed, passing right through them as easily as air without causing "telefragging" or other space-time related mishaps. Closing the portals while something is partway through them automatically safely ejects the target back through the side they entered, regardless of how far through they are, completely whole and avoiding dicing them with a space-time cut. The portals created in this manner are not static, and their orientation and size can be adjusted as needed. There is no strict limit on the number of portals that can be active at once, but they will automatically close in the case of the user's unconsciousness.

Sub 3: Clover of Midas:
A luck power related to wealth. Causes her to stumble upon success in regard to acquiring money and other valuable objects even when she isn't trying. She is almost guaranteed to succeed in any situation where chance is a factor, making her the bane of any gambler. This even aids her in fights, as long as a prize is at stake. The focused and comparatively specific nature of this ability makes it disproportionately strong and extremely resilient to other luck-based effects. Indeed, nudging things here and there in manners mostly subtle (but not always), it is not incorrect to say this ability is very wide-reaching, operating much like a Rube Goldberg device, manipulating the butterfly effect to hurl wealth and success at its wielder.

Assets

Ivory, the Combat Gynoid

Relationships:

General Reputation

WIP

-Darla Drake:
Seems to care for and support her sister, even in her more... questionable pursuits. Once she finds a way to usurp their father's business empire, she's even planning to share with her! Oh, to be sure, she knows that only one of them can be the official top dog, the CEO, the head honcho, and she's happy to leave that in Darla's hands. As long as she gets a much bigger slice of the pie than she currently has, Amelia will be -if not content then- satiated.

-Arthur Drake (Father):
Oh, Father... what can she say she feels about him? Love? Perhaps not. Gratitude? Well, he did raise her. Admiration? Oh, in an intellectual sense, absolutely. The wealth. The luxury. The power! The bootlickers, sycophants, servants and ants to be stepped on! She wanted all of it! Yes! He was an inspiration! In some ways, she almost couldn't say who she felt more kinship with between him and her sister... And that was exactly why, knowing the depths of his ruthlessness... that she could never truly trust him. Yes, they were too similar, she, her sister and him, and wasn't that a tragedy? One day... she would take that empire of his for her own. She's not super enthused with his attempts to "reform" Darla... even if she can see why he'd want to.

-Carla Drake (Mother):
Unlike her sister, she resents their mother. The neglect. The drunkeness. The endless indulgence and drugs. It might sound ungrateful, but Amelia is a Drake. Surely, it isn't wrong for her to always want better? Why settle for less than more? She sees her mother as nothing less than scum, ashamed to share the same genetics... not that she'd express such openly. She knows that "Mother Dearest" is one of the few people Darla cares about, and for that reason alone, she will... tolerate her. For now, at least. To be sure, she perhaps... pities her, but with her mother's healing-based Gift, she can't imagine how the woman could be addicted. She could be so much better, so much more... if only she'd put down the damn bottle!

Reverio Galand:
A strange boy. A wasteful and naive sort. It's honestly galling to her how he can seemingly be so... disconnected from reality. He's wealthy! She knows it! So- So, how could this disgrace of a Peasant Prince be so well off and yet so hopeless? Darla likes him though... perhaps a little too much, despite him being their cousin. Even so, she'll support her sister's flights of fancy until she hopefully sees the light.

Maverick Maddison Maximiliano Majere:
???

Theme

Royal Rumble: Rumble over the Heavens

Chinami Nadakai

"Liliya Montoya"

@Dezuel@Aqutanama@AtomicNut@MagusDream

The sound of a sharp, brief cry of pain and the scraping of stone echoing off the stonework halls almost made her hurry her pace, but "Liliya" resisted willfully the urge to act recklessly. Honestly, despite the seeming inevitability of it, she hoped to go unnoticed by Reverio as long as possible... for the entirety of this venture ideally. The disguise was just an insurance policy at the end of the day.

To be honest... She wasn't sure how she wanted to go about... "all this", as it were. Reverio's impulsiveness had forced her own hand in turn. The disguise was something she'd thought up more by lucky happenstance than anything else. She barely had a plan -if what she had could be defined as a "plan" at all- beyond keeping the demon inside her close enough to hear what it needed to hear and fulfil her end of their Deal, and that lack of direction -that vague "winging it" bullshit- didn't sit right with her.

As Liliya approached the bottom of the stairs, she quietly closed her lighter, extinguishing its glow as a cautious measure. Still suspended above the ground, she listened to the area beyond... and received only ominous silence. Tucking her snow-white hair behind her ear so it didn't potentially hang out obviously, Liliya chanced a peek around the corner, and her single exposed crimson eye narrowed at the sight of a grand expanse of checkered black and white... and the familiar "pieces" atop it.

'Chess?'

The State of the War

Pursing her lips, Liliya glanced at the door on the opposite side of the room, which appeared to be swinging closed, quashing the majority of the white light spilling from within the space beyond the first obstacle. 'Reverio... you moron.' Even mentally, the words simply couldn't help but be very exceptionally done already with this blonde with a martyr complex. Honestly... this trap looked not so simple. How had he crossed it so quickly?

More importantly, while she didn't want him to get too far ahead of her, did she really want to catch up?

Liliya finally moved out of cover, hovering out to the edge of the "playing field", as her brows furrowed minutely. Scrutinizing the field, she could see the pieces lying deceptively still, but she would have bet her left tit that they were golems of some sort. This sort of... flamboyant trap seemed exactly the sort of thing to include such an extra "flair" from whoever had made it. Eccentrics aside, however, what was more important was how this trap functioned...

Did the intruder have to "play the game"? With what? Could they order the pieces around? If so, which ones? Both? Did they have to choose? Was it a fake-out or unwinnable scenario? Was she facing a magical AI? Did the pieces reset between "games"? Hard to say; she hadn't been quick enough to watch Reverio "play". And on that note, if there was a "game" to be played, how had he done it so fast? Was he just an idiot savant at chess? No, that didn't sound quite right. She'd heard Reverio's cry of pain, and the lightest scent of copper tinged the air to her Spirit's superhuman senses. If there was a strategy, Reverio wouldn't have had time to use it. He was on an obvious time crunch. He didn't have the time to indulge obvious delaying tactics. More likely than not, he had just bulled on through and accepted the consequences.

And she might just have to follow his lead.

Not. Ideal.

She had no doubt that doing it such a way would be loud, as her crimson eyes scanned the board, black and white pieces alike, looking for gaps in the formations. The board was arranged as a game already in progress. Assuming the pieces were limited to attacking within their game rules (and she'd have to be cautious of a reverse psychology fake-out letting her guard down), then she could only safely traverse accordingly. The odds that this were the case were... higher than her tenuous confidence in the competency of the government would like to believe. Why? Well, who in their right mind made a trap that could actually be beaten? To guard stuff like she could only assume was hidden below, you'd ideally make a trap with no solution except a secret passphrase or some-such that would temporarily disable the defense.

But digression aside, assuming the pieces had to play by the rules... that still didn't do anything about the first major hurdle.

The puppy-guarding white queen.

Sitting in the "bottom-left" corner of the "board", the white queen canvased the entire length of the battlefield in three threatening directions. There was no way to get past her without being imperiled. Even if Liliya were to cross on the opposite corner, that too would be additionally guarded by the presence of the white rook, looming midway up the field. And that wasn't even mentioning that this "bottom" side was the home territory of the black pieces. The more she looked at the board, the more she could vaguely see how the black team was disadvantaged. In fact, their position was so bad that they all seemed to have moved up at least one space, leaving their entire backline open to the white queen's predations.

Was she supposed to play as black to remove the obstacles? Did that even mean black was on her side? Even if they were, how was she supposed to make them move in the first place? Could she move white? Perhaps the scenario was that she was supposed to play out the finishing blow.

"White queen, A8 to A5," Liliya commanded with a whispery confidence. If she estimated correctly, that would not only remove a major direct obstacle, but open the queen up to being immediately captured by the black bishop currently guarding the black king. Even if that potentially left the bishop vulnerable, the trade for an enemy queen, strategically, was surely an irresistible target. Honestly, when it came down to it, she could perfectly well tolerate slaughtering as many pieces as possible on both sides until crossing the board became trivial. A final victory was meaningless and a waste of time. There clearly wasn't an invisible physical barrier, or Reverio wouldn't have been able to cross so easily, so all she needed to do was clear the path... not that it would be so easy.

The white queen remained unmoved... And perhaps it was her imagination in the relative darkness, but Liliya could almost have sworn the pale statue was glaring at her even in its unnerving stillness. She suppressed a shiver and looked away. It looked like she couldn't control white... so how about black? If she could, she would need to be very careful about her next commands. Even if the act would be a test, it would be one with stakes. There would be no backing out in a move made in chess.

One hand made it to her chin in thought, as she tried to think several moves ahead. The black bishop could still be her tool of destruction against the white queen. Could she bait it? Was it too transparent? How advanced was the "AI" of this trap, if one existed at all. Was each piece independent? She needed to keep in mind that victory wasn't the goal here, only getting the enemy out of the way. If Checkmate came, it would be by happenstance. So, keeping in mind that the white queen's mere existence threatened every possible path forward, that thing would have to go before anything else.

Liliya lightly chewed her bottom lip. Moving the black bishop might provoke retaliation from the white rook. Would the rook give up its cover of the white queen's coverage blind spot? Perhaps. If she moved the black bishop onto the back row, it would cut off the majority of the white queen's attack route, and she wouldn't be able to attack it without being captured by the black king, himself. However... the white rook could move to the center of the board to threaten the opening instead. In two turns, the rook could have the black bishop captured... No, rather, the queen could then safely capture the bishop, and the black king would be in checkmate, unable to take the queen without being struck down by the rook.

So, how could she pressure the rook? Did she need to? Perhaps she could go on the attack instead. She had a rook left that could put the enemy king in "check" for a moment, but the predicted chain of actions that would follow was... not particularly advantaged towards herself, unless she missed her guess. Canvasing her other assets did not bring forth particularly promising possibilities either. Nearly every piece at her disposal was being threatened. Thankfully, most of the threatened ones were also guarded in some manner... if somewhat more effectively in some places than others.

Perhaps she should test the waters a bit.

Taking out the book she had palmed back in the library proper, Liliya lowered herself to the floor, casually slipped the book onto the "battlefield"... and waited for a response. She received none. "So, they only respond to the living, presumably? Or, at the least, the trap cannot be cheesed by an object as small or light as a book." Briefly wetting her lips in trepidation, she leaned down and carefully edged her hand across the line towards the book... No movement. She snagged the book and pulled back, standing up again. Was her arm too small, or were the parameters of the likely retaliation more specific than that? Was it actually like chess in that she would have to fully commit to her "move" before the enemy could respond?

Again, she had to revisit the question: should she even attempt to play by the rules or just smash on through? This -just considering a strategy- was already eating up way more time than she was comfortable with... but she had no way to know what the defense system would actually look like without taking the plunge directly. She had no way to tell if her Spirit could protect her without taking a chance. And without the ability to heal herself any longer? She wasn't particularly keen on unnecessary risks.

The longer she stared at the board from an aerial position, hovering once more above and outside the line to the battlefield, the more ideas started to sprout... and the more she began to realize that this position that black was in was nearly guaranteed to lose. The crux of it was her own lone remaining rook. Once the queen took that on the next possible turn, it would be a death spiral. Nodding her head, Liliya was decided. Even if she might not be able to get the white queen, she could hopefully eliminate some of the annoying crossfire.

A muted snort of amusement(?) caused the girl to startle abruptly, whirling around to the stairs to find-

...Nothing.

Right, she had almost forgotten that she wasn't alone. The damn demon had been suddenly pretty quiet for the last good while. 'Anything you feel like sharing with the class?' she grumbled, only half-interested. Frustration and unease colored her tone. This fucking trap... She knew Reverio had cleared it both quickly and seemingly easily, but he'd been injured. She could smell it. So, how? What was the catch? Was she overthinking things?

"This One was merely partaking in the adulation of the observer."

Liliya's lip twisted briefly in distaste at the succinct elaboration that followed in regard to the situation upstairs, and then her blood ran cold upon processing the end of "This One's" report. Darla's plan had worked fairly well, but it unfortunately was up against a wellspring of spiteful pettiness and annoying sufficient technology to enable it. The intrusion was detected, and the librarians were coming!

She was out of time! Do or die!

Gritting her teeth and steeling herself, Liliya's Spirit propelled her into the air over the top of the chess board. She was fast, not as fast as her Spirit could move unburdened (mostly for her own safety than anything else) but certainly fast enough that she would clear the obstacle in moments.

And in chilling, slow-motion unison to her accelerated vision, the statues on the board all silently turned to look at her in a singular hair-raising moment. But it was okay, surely? There was every indication that they had to play by the "rules" and were bereft of offence outside of mel-

A criss-cross of searing white and pulsating black beams bloomed from the staffs of the bishops and the damned white queen. Liliya veered wildly, unable to chance taking the unknown energy of the attacks head-on, as they cored ominously into the ceiling, carving bubbling paths through the stonework. Immediately after, she balked, as shimmering white and black barriers of hexagons snapped into place. She bashed into the far one, closest to the exit door, and rebounded violently, flailing back unharmed but disoriented by the unexpectedly unyielding nature of the obstacle.

The rooks now!

And also the fucking white queen!

The positioning of the pieces unleashing the barriers meant she was entirely boxed in, even as the bishops and queen unleashed a fresh salvo, their beams seemingly totally unhindered by the barriers. Liliya's Spirit hurriedly yanked her puppeted body into a corkscrew dive, passing under the assault, along with curling uncomfortably over the follow-up in space that was increasingly cramped by the moment, as one of the white rooks started to move closer, bringing its barrier with it.

Gritting her teeth, the girl chanced a glance around and saw that even the black pieces were against her. Was that because they'd never been on her "side" to begin with or because she had "cheated"? Impossible to know and irrelevant to the situation at hand. This was the sort of ruckus that even normal hearing could likely catch from the top of the stairs, should someone open the door. All she was doing was supplying the guards urgency! Only seconds had passed since the engagement's start, but she needed to-

"-Be done with this already," she forcibly hissed out in a colder and calmer tone than she truly felt. Rage, indignity and something else warred within, crawling and bubbled underneath her skin, as crimson eyes narrowed to reptilian slits.

The girl dropped like an anvil, unyielding, and the first of the white bishops stood no chance. There was some resistance, certainly, as her feet crushed the statue into rubble, enchanted resistance even... But these creatures -these things- weren't alive, and so as was so very uncommonly the case... she had no need to hold back.

Two white pawns served as brief excellent "meat" shields against the incoming fire, as Liliya's gaze snapped to the all too close and deliciously vulnerable white king. She wondered if killing it would make short work of those other white pieces? The answer seemed to be emphatically yes, as the white king flicked away a moment before her enhanced blow could land, replaced with one of the white rooks! Liliya blinked in recognition and frustration. She knew that move! Even if she didn't know what it was called, she knew of it... and that it could only be used once. Sure, counting on the pieces to play by the "rules" at this stage seemed foolish, but a girl could hope, right?

Still, the king may have lived, but that just meant her Spirit-clad fist scythed into the white rook instead, blowing the castle-shaped statue to smithereens. The barrier tried to stop her... only for her Spirit's invisible arm to briefly phase off her own limb and straight through, completely unbothered.

The only barrier barring the way to the exit shattered... and the white king had nowhere left to run.

"Checkmate."

Liliya lunged.

The living pieces almost seemed to howl in helpless fury-

...And the door shut behind her.

Now tensely staring down a long stone hallway with another surge of nostalgia, Liliya smiled grimly. She could have destroyed the king, but instead, she would leave the trap active. Anything to buy herself some extra seconds, whether the guards could disable it or not. The pieces were riled up, and with any luck, they would not be so easily pacified.