@KoL Not my fault that Hudson is taking years to post the next installment.... would’ve ended it sooner if he posted faster and more daily.
Just got out of the hospital, sorry :(
LHudson Member
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Just got out of the hospital, sorry :(
- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -
@Lmpkio
The damn showoff had vanished before the sister could take a shot at the heel, and the skidding feet of Flos stopped the angel from losing control. He turned only the see nothing but the thralls still merrily attacking the corpses of the men who had originally tried to contain him.
The Final Gaze made an appearance alongside the sister in his free hand, but before he could take another step, the loud sound of mechanized boosters flooded the angel's ears, and on instinct, he threw up his shield and took an unexpected force. It forced the angel to crouch to maintain a locked formation without losing control, but he was at a disadvantage. His left arm was feeling the extreme weight of the collision, and he didn't have much of a plan of action.
"And you're pathetic to think I'm giving it my all," the armored demon barked through the helmet, "I'm just getting started!"
Flos let out another deep chuckle at the egotistic demon. "I could do this all day...". The Final Gaze started to brighten up. "...then again, I'm sure you'd already know if you really are a competent king."
He swung the Gaze forward, breaking his lock and allowed the sharp, bright projectile of heaven to push towards it's commanded direction, and to follow up, Flos rose the Gaze into the aim, and pierced the floor with a commanding shockwave, before immediately and quickly swinging another slash towards Mephilis' suit.
The two doors opened up, and advancing through them was the isolationist individual. "Your seat sir", said one of the staff members, pointing out the value of his position.
Coriptus took his seat, and simply said, "thank you, if you'd like to get me a glass of lemonade that would be much appreciated." He was left alone, with only the view of the main floor below to accompany him.
Coriptus liked seeing the stage set up, there was an elegance to their construction that he couldn't help but find attractive. The blood, sweat, and tears in even a small aspect was attractive; effort displaying itself to the world. In this case, the 'world' was in actuality a gathering of wealthy upper-class business men with deep pockets and little sense. Property was the showcase of wealth, something Coriptus wasn't shy of acquiring as evident by his Homestead, but this particular performance was to be a pantomime between one man, and a good chunk of the audience.
Auctions are interesting in the behaviour between the catalyst and the reaction, with the noise sometimes being inaudible yet understandable based on pure numbers of increasing value. See something you like, be ready to shout or hold up a sign. Feuds spawn between individuals demanding certain items, value skyrockets, and the victor gains the spoils with only their accounts losing something of worth. This particular auction was, on the surface, to be no different, but one item of importance had cropped up and needed to be secured. The arrival advantage was to serve it's purpose, to see the item delivered, and verify it's existence.
In the meantime, there was someone he needed to meet, someone he sent summons to. It was time to meet Paulie Cooper, and so he waits.
Coriptus took his seat, and simply said, "thank you, if you'd like to get me a glass of lemonade that would be much appreciated." He was left alone, with only the view of the main floor below to accompany him.
Coriptus liked seeing the stage set up, there was an elegance to their construction that he couldn't help but find attractive. The blood, sweat, and tears in even a small aspect was attractive; effort displaying itself to the world. In this case, the 'world' was in actuality a gathering of wealthy upper-class business men with deep pockets and little sense. Property was the showcase of wealth, something Coriptus wasn't shy of acquiring as evident by his Homestead, but this particular performance was to be a pantomime between one man, and a good chunk of the audience.
Auctions are interesting in the behaviour between the catalyst and the reaction, with the noise sometimes being inaudible yet understandable based on pure numbers of increasing value. See something you like, be ready to shout or hold up a sign. Feuds spawn between individuals demanding certain items, value skyrockets, and the victor gains the spoils with only their accounts losing something of worth. This particular auction was, on the surface, to be no different, but one item of importance had cropped up and needed to be secured. The arrival advantage was to serve it's purpose, to see the item delivered, and verify it's existence.
In the meantime, there was someone he needed to meet, someone he sent summons to. It was time to meet Paulie Cooper, and so he waits.
Hey, had illness, will post soon.
- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -
@Lmpkio
His strikes were well defended, but Mephilius gave Flos a good swing that it didn't give him time to shield the blow. He pulled up the sisters that did block the blow, but it did push him back a considerable amount as he was taunted.
Flos chucked at the quip, and simply replied, "You're doing a pathetic job if I was able to break out of chains in front of you and do barely anything."
Mephilius made his move again, which was intimidating but it was also telegraphed loudly. It didn't take much for Flos to dash to the side, allowing the bulking force to crash into the wall, but he dashed back to hopefully nick his heel.
- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -
@Lmpkio
The shots launched themselves towards the angel, though he was prepared. Arm up, the shield too the vast majority of the damage, but the impact skidded him back a noticeable distance. The dust settled, giving Flos some time to look at his opponent.
"Afraid to join your brethren on the field, and hide behind your toys?" the angel smirked. "So be it."
Shield dropped, two slash shockwaves, one after the other. Following them was the black-winged angel, sisters drawn and speeding towards his target.
<Snipped quote by The 42nd Gecko>
He didnt realize he was released as he went to his own castle. But he's certainly coming down now. I'll get a post up later today for all fronts.
Yeah, I was a little confused that Meph didn't do anything when Flos broke out of his chains and left. Was a bit perplexing.
Still, this should be fun.
- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -
The thralls emerged from within the dungeons and leapt upon the first creature they saw. It was only a mere guard point that separated the dungeons from the rest of hell, but considering the combat going on elsewhere, it's safe to assume that the numbers are focused away from the home base. With that knowledge, Flos emerged from the archway, and the three demons not engulfed by the thralls set their sights on them.
"The prisoner! Alert the oth--", the voice of one of them was cut off by the sharp tip of one of the sisters.
Flos approached the other two with the Final Gaze in one hand and the other sister in the other, positioned to engage. One of them ran forward to strike, but foolishly focused on the bastard blade, allow Flos to command the sister to impale their head. The other tried to strike while their friend was bleeding out on the floor, but the sister held their weapon up high as one slash split the demon in half.
"Demon cretins," he muttered out, taking into account that his opponents in the area fell to the thralls, who were now simply beating their corpses to bloody pulps. They were occupied, and no longer needed. Flos had is way out. He sliced the doors in half, and emerged in what he presumed is Hell proper.
- FLOS - THE FLOWER OF DEATH -
Perplexing, thought the angel, having observed the words and movements of Mephillus and his green companion. The demon was unfazed that the larger angel was able to unshackle himself from the chains that bound him, though he was aware that he was in a territory that he was unfamiliar with. He knew that "Rufus" would be an obstacle, and that the "Ladies" would likely be the same.
But he wasn't an idiot. He knew the cycle too well, and he noticed that beside some distant screams coming from the dungeons, the volume of noise in general had decreased. The cycle must continue. Another battle, another slaughter, another day in the meat grinder, except Flos was in a different position, and it was one he wanted to take.
Final Gaze was in his hand, and with one large slash, the gates of his cell and the chained demons among the same corridor was shatter, with a loud boom emitting when the slash found it's end point.
The towering angel approached each chained demon one by one, calling The Sisters to unbind each one of the them. He whispered to each one of them, calming them and placing them under his trance, and upon looking towards the exit, commanded them to rush the exit.
His head hurt, and his wings were strained, but he was in Hell, and would make good use of that time. He followed the thralls out, with his loyal weapon by his side.
Mattius had crept around the archway and had entered a large hall, one decorated with detailed images of a man, woman, and child, lit only by the candles surrounding it. He was in the Coriptus Homestead, hunting for the last member of the dynasty and hopefully cutting off an influence to the Dark Shadow. He had his motive, one fuelled by anger and heroism, but that would've only hampered the young man as his mission was clearly not thought out. He brought only himself, unless there was a backup plan thought out, but that was extremely unlikely.
"Snooping around, young man?", calmly said a male voice, sitting in the darkened corner of the hallway. Mattius took no time to find where it was coming from, but kept calm as the gentleman sitting down became clear to him. "Don't you think it's a little foolish to be breaking into my home?"
Mattius reframed his posture. "Val Coriptus, I assume?"
The gentleman's hands gestured. "Who else would be here?"
Mattius reached for the knife on his side.
"Please, have a seat." A small movement of Coriptus' hands changed Mattius' position. He was knocked off his feet and speeding towards the older man, having been forcefully seated by a moving chair. It stopped in front of Coriptus, only at arms length distance. "Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish by breaking into my home?"
No answer.
"I mean it, not rhetorical," calmly added Coriptus, leaning back in his chair with an uneasy smile on his face.
Mattius struggled to get his words out, obviously uncomfortable and confused about the situation. "To get to you?"
"An honest man, good quality."
"I can't exactly say I came to look at your paintings."
"Nothing wrong with that. Precisely the reason why I come here, to this room." He glanced at each of the images, each one depicting a different time, place, moment. "Not a fan of older people reminiscing on the good old days but..." His smile faded. "...mine were too short, stolen from me." He looked back at the man who had broken into his home. "You have family?"
"I'd rather not say."
"That's fine. No pressure, perfectly reasonable explanation." His smile returned. "I presume you're from the Guild?"
"What make you say that?"
"Because I can see that the mark on your neck isn't a tattoo and that you somehow are familiar with my home's general layout." There wasn't another word from Mattius, only silence. "Don't worry, I don't plan on doing anything yet, but your arrival is well timed." Mattius' chair moved back to where he once stood. "I'd like you to tell Miss Miller that Our ascension is coming, and that it would be wise of you all to not interfere with our plans, for your greater good. Got that?"
Mattius was slow getting up, confused as to why the high ranking Dark Shadow member was so easily letting this young prospect go. He was comfortable talking to his enemy, yet didn't lift a finger to inflict serious harm.
"No harm, no foul? Deal?" Coriptus asked, his smile maintaining and uneasy tone through out.
Mattius was hesitant, but then slowly started making his way to the archway he had come through originally, now his way out. He took his first few steps, before--
"No deal." A flick of his hands produced two sharp knives that flung towards the seated gent, who only flicked his wrists to change their direction to towards the floor, and before Mattius could strike, Corpitus stood up and rose his arm.
"Stupid boy," he exhaled in a much lower tone, clutching his fist quickly after.
Mattius had tried to get hold of his other knives strapped around his waistline, but the command of Coriptus had stopped his progress in his tracks. His arms were stiff and motionless, and his struggle to make his next move rendered him uncomfortable. He was completely frozen from the head down, and the only thing in his line of sight was the target who gave him an open door.
"You young prospects are always so eager to prove themselves to your glorious leader." Corpitus started his walk around the hallway, glancing at his prisoner and looking at his decorations. "Wanting to make the world a better place, wanting to ensure magic and non-magic folk alike live in harmony." He kept looking at his parents. "You helpless fools are unable to see what's behind that awful facade." He glances at Mattius, still struggling to get free from the invisible barrier forced on him, letting out only grunts of struggle.
"My family contributed to the Guild, some time ago actually, believing they were the best people to turn to when inquiring about anything magic related, and what did the Guild do to them? Nothing." He walks towards the painting of his parents, mesmerised by the detail as his tone got increasingly harsher. "They sent me an apology basket, did nothing, and let those PIGS continue their rampage." He turns to Mattius, now struggling harder as the pathway he set himself upon got increasingly dire. "We have this power to show those insects what happens when they target the wrong people, and your leader would rather it whittle away, for nothing. NOTHING!" He screamed, his pent up frustration now starting to overwhelming him. "Your little treehouse club that claims superiority is led by feckless idiots, wanting to keep that seat within family regardless of ability." His anger calmed a little, and his uncomfortable smile returned. "No matter, that'll change soon."
Mattius was now moving, though not by his own intuition. The barriers that held him still were now bringing him towards the manor's owner. His feet left the floor, and the struggling boy tried harder to escape the bonds that bound him to his path. "No! Stop! Don't do this!" he begged, but the pathway didn't stop, and Coriptus paid no attention to his pleas.
"You see, I gave you the option to send the message I wanted to your little leader. Either leave, or stay, you'd bring that message to Miss Miller." Mattius was close to the man now, and Coriptus reached out for his head. "Now, let's see who you really are."
Mattius screamed as Coriptus made contact--
Training, mother, recently born son, job as a waiter, looked at Guild intel, gathered items, set off.
--Mattius collapsed to the floor, clutching his head and continued screaming as the sensation of being invaded never left him. He was shaking, screaming no, before crying and crawling on the floor before the sight of it's owner.
Coriptus chuckled lowly, observing the insanity that sometime came with the memory invasions he would conduct. The job was done, and Coriptus commanded the window to be opened. He took control of Mattius again, who struggled loudly and babbled incoherently continuously.
"Now, send that message to Miss Miller," before throwing the boy out the window, and back onto the streets on the outskirts of New York City. A gathering was going to take place, and thankfully it wouldn't require much travelling.
"Snooping around, young man?", calmly said a male voice, sitting in the darkened corner of the hallway. Mattius took no time to find where it was coming from, but kept calm as the gentleman sitting down became clear to him. "Don't you think it's a little foolish to be breaking into my home?"
Mattius reframed his posture. "Val Coriptus, I assume?"
The gentleman's hands gestured. "Who else would be here?"
Mattius reached for the knife on his side.
"Please, have a seat." A small movement of Coriptus' hands changed Mattius' position. He was knocked off his feet and speeding towards the older man, having been forcefully seated by a moving chair. It stopped in front of Coriptus, only at arms length distance. "Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish by breaking into my home?"
No answer.
"I mean it, not rhetorical," calmly added Coriptus, leaning back in his chair with an uneasy smile on his face.
Mattius struggled to get his words out, obviously uncomfortable and confused about the situation. "To get to you?"
"An honest man, good quality."
"I can't exactly say I came to look at your paintings."
"Nothing wrong with that. Precisely the reason why I come here, to this room." He glanced at each of the images, each one depicting a different time, place, moment. "Not a fan of older people reminiscing on the good old days but..." His smile faded. "...mine were too short, stolen from me." He looked back at the man who had broken into his home. "You have family?"
"I'd rather not say."
"That's fine. No pressure, perfectly reasonable explanation." His smile returned. "I presume you're from the Guild?"
"What make you say that?"
"Because I can see that the mark on your neck isn't a tattoo and that you somehow are familiar with my home's general layout." There wasn't another word from Mattius, only silence. "Don't worry, I don't plan on doing anything yet, but your arrival is well timed." Mattius' chair moved back to where he once stood. "I'd like you to tell Miss Miller that Our ascension is coming, and that it would be wise of you all to not interfere with our plans, for your greater good. Got that?"
Mattius was slow getting up, confused as to why the high ranking Dark Shadow member was so easily letting this young prospect go. He was comfortable talking to his enemy, yet didn't lift a finger to inflict serious harm.
"No harm, no foul? Deal?" Coriptus asked, his smile maintaining and uneasy tone through out.
Mattius was hesitant, but then slowly started making his way to the archway he had come through originally, now his way out. He took his first few steps, before--
"No deal." A flick of his hands produced two sharp knives that flung towards the seated gent, who only flicked his wrists to change their direction to towards the floor, and before Mattius could strike, Corpitus stood up and rose his arm.
"Stupid boy," he exhaled in a much lower tone, clutching his fist quickly after.
Mattius had tried to get hold of his other knives strapped around his waistline, but the command of Coriptus had stopped his progress in his tracks. His arms were stiff and motionless, and his struggle to make his next move rendered him uncomfortable. He was completely frozen from the head down, and the only thing in his line of sight was the target who gave him an open door.
"You young prospects are always so eager to prove themselves to your glorious leader." Corpitus started his walk around the hallway, glancing at his prisoner and looking at his decorations. "Wanting to make the world a better place, wanting to ensure magic and non-magic folk alike live in harmony." He kept looking at his parents. "You helpless fools are unable to see what's behind that awful facade." He glances at Mattius, still struggling to get free from the invisible barrier forced on him, letting out only grunts of struggle.
"My family contributed to the Guild, some time ago actually, believing they were the best people to turn to when inquiring about anything magic related, and what did the Guild do to them? Nothing." He walks towards the painting of his parents, mesmerised by the detail as his tone got increasingly harsher. "They sent me an apology basket, did nothing, and let those PIGS continue their rampage." He turns to Mattius, now struggling harder as the pathway he set himself upon got increasingly dire. "We have this power to show those insects what happens when they target the wrong people, and your leader would rather it whittle away, for nothing. NOTHING!" He screamed, his pent up frustration now starting to overwhelming him. "Your little treehouse club that claims superiority is led by feckless idiots, wanting to keep that seat within family regardless of ability." His anger calmed a little, and his uncomfortable smile returned. "No matter, that'll change soon."
Mattius was now moving, though not by his own intuition. The barriers that held him still were now bringing him towards the manor's owner. His feet left the floor, and the struggling boy tried harder to escape the bonds that bound him to his path. "No! Stop! Don't do this!" he begged, but the pathway didn't stop, and Coriptus paid no attention to his pleas.
"You see, I gave you the option to send the message I wanted to your little leader. Either leave, or stay, you'd bring that message to Miss Miller." Mattius was close to the man now, and Coriptus reached out for his head. "Now, let's see who you really are."
Mattius screamed as Coriptus made contact--
Training, mother, recently born son, job as a waiter, looked at Guild intel, gathered items, set off.
--Mattius collapsed to the floor, clutching his head and continued screaming as the sensation of being invaded never left him. He was shaking, screaming no, before crying and crawling on the floor before the sight of it's owner.
Coriptus chuckled lowly, observing the insanity that sometime came with the memory invasions he would conduct. The job was done, and Coriptus commanded the window to be opened. He took control of Mattius again, who struggled loudly and babbled incoherently continuously.
"Now, send that message to Miss Miller," before throwing the boy out the window, and back onto the streets on the outskirts of New York City. A gathering was going to take place, and thankfully it wouldn't require much travelling.
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