Tuujaimaa

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's spirit had not yet flagged as she began stalking across the battlefield, and for the most part she was simply planning to get her breath back and begin the assault anew when she had more in her. She was calm and focused, the dull aches and throbs and searing hot agony of before now only a distant memory and her eyes firmly locked on that of the thing she was hunting--she observed where the energy seemed to begin as it gathered it, if such a place existed. She observed how long it took to recharge, to gather its wits, and tried to imagine how it was choosing what to target (though she came up rather short on that front). When the telltale notes of the Moonborn Bell rang out Ophelia's ears reacted immediately and her eyes very shortly thereafter, glancing over towards the sound to see Torquil, the bell still held in his hand.

She thought for a brief moment that that seemed unnecessary--that though they were on the back foot they were about to start being able to make real progress. It seemed that being close to the Lightbeast as the Darkbeast and Gerlinde were conferred healing to them too... They could probably all use that to their advantage--force the Darkbeast away somehow, or... Something. She still felt very much in control of the situation... until she saw the Moonborn Hunter get noticed by the Darkbeast, and a charge of energy greater than anything they'd yet seen accumulate within the horrid creature so intense it glowed with what Ophelia only imagined the Blood Moon must've looked like. Then it moved--no, it quickstepped, or something very close to it--and Ophelia dashed back instinctively in response, moving five meters directly backward towards the illusory wall to give her space from whatever was about to happen.

She readied the Holy Moonlight Sword, though she knew there was little point in her joining in the fight now... unless it seemed that even the Moonborn Hunter might need aid. But should that come to pass, she'd need her stamina back, and it seemed every time she just about was beginning to recover some monstrous event interrupted her. She was suddenly very glad indeed that they were immortal, and how insidious a killer overconfidence was.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia had scarcely begun walking on her quest to find the chain before she saw the telltale signs of the beast charging another explosion, felt and heard and tasted the electrical potential in the air, and promptly turned around and quickstepped forward, towards the illusory wall, and from there broke into a full run--having to immediately draw upon her newly replenished stamina to ensure she was out of the way of the beast's onslaught. She would stop as soon as she judged herself safe--as best as she could given her recent memory of it--turning back to face the beast to observe it and then breaking into a light jog circling around it counter-clockwise to eventually end up on the chain until either her allies or the Beasts did something to alter the flow of actions on the battlefield once more.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's sharpness of focus returned after she'd spent three or four seconds just breathing, and she whipped around immediately to begin the hunt for the weakened link of chain once again. They'd never get through this thing while the chain lasted, and they had limited vitality and resources--and limited tolerance to such horrendously painful and traumatic experiences, too, lest they end up like Gerlinde. She began a light jog, eager to more fully recover her stamina and have the manoeuvrability needed to actually dodge whatever the beast would get up to next. This was her first experience in combat as a true Hunter, one armed with the right tools and companions, and in her mind's eye it was very much like a rhythm, or a dance, or a game--there was a flow, and there was strategy. There was a back and forth to it that could be observed and learned and performed, an art that fused the best parts of insight and beasthood--two things that Ophelia understood as being at the opposite ends of a spectrum.

She sometimes wondered why the sheer terror of it didn't grip her, like it had Torquil. She realised in hindsight that she was the one who was aberrant in that instance, that his fear was truly very much justified--for results required experience. There was always a price to pay in doing the act. Then she saw the little motes of moonlight, and she knew she was bathed in a sheath of Mother Moon's light: enough to reveal that which she sought, but not so bright as to be obvious. Obfuscating in all of the most beneficial ways, and revealing too--like the flow of power through the chain. She began moving towards it immediately and with extreme focus, keeping herself at the fastest pace she could while still recovering her energy, which resulted in her circling clockwise around the twin beasts.

"The Chain!" She called out again, wanting to impress upon them the urgency of the task but without the breath to spare them more than those two words.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia seemed to see everything almost... slow down, as though she was experiencing ripples across a pond gently washing over her rather than experiencing linear time. She hadn't the time for another attack on the chain, and if the slight sting in her lungs was anything to go by she hadn't the stamina either. She gulped in what little air she could, let the machinery of her body have a single revolution without exertion, and prepared herself to move again. As the Darkbeast clambered on top of the Lightbeast and began to summon forth its intense energies once more--perhaps the brightest they'd seen yet--Ophelia realised nearly immediately what was coming and urged herself to move. By her estimation the safest direction was simply north-west from her current one, and so she drew upon the waning fire of the Old Blood (or perhaps merely her body's inability to harness it) and quickstepped again, as quickly and as far as she could.

When she arrived at her destination the first sensation she felt was a deep burning in her lungs and a sudden ache in her muscles that was as familiar as it was uncomfortable, and the second was a furious and crackling surge of energy missing her by a hair's breadth--the clothes on her back felt suddenly hot and though needles were pricking at her from within them. She could feel a faint throb resonate throughout her body as she remembered the agony of being thoroughly shocked before. She simply stood for a number of seconds gulping in greedy breaths of air to restore the limits she'd pushed herself to--turning around to survey the battlefield first--and simply remained there until her stamina was recovered. If the Darkbeast came for her again she could perhaps turn it to her advantage, though Gerlinde's mad assault having resumed gave Ophelia hope that it wouldn't be her the beast went for, but Gerlinde.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia felt the familiar singing of her blade's power ripping apart steel, saw the momentary glimpse of the cosmos' inexhaustible light, and still could not get through the chain cleanly. "Just break!" she screamed out, frustrated with its futile resistance, before the sudden flurry of motion from the others and the Darkbeast demanded her focus once more. She caught the Darkbeast rearing up to jump in the air, its limbs twisting in ways that its eerie form and propensity for regeneration alone must've allowed, and quickstepped instinctively as far as she could back towards the entrance, though at a 45 degree angle to her right to avoid the Lightbeast and give her sufficient time to quickstep again--this time directly towards the other end of the room, albeit adjusting for anything that might get in the way. Quickstepping twice in succession was not good for Ophelia's limited stamina, however, and as much as she wanted to press the attack and finally break the chain so the damage they dealt to the Darkbeast would stick... she would need to catch her breath.

She began a light jog over to where the almost-broken link of chain was, keeping an eye out for the Darkbeast's movements, and keeping tabs on everyone else too: she hoped that it'd just go for one of the others, that the redirection of its ire to her was momentary, but she knew that it most definitely might not be--and if the Darkbeast came for her immediately again, she'd begin her evasive manoeuvres once more and shout out to one of the others to break the chain at its weakest link--Farren or Torquil, at least, whomever was closer.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia felt the fury of the explosion behind her, could taste it in the air and through her nose and in her ears--but she, mercifully, seemed far enough away to have escaped unscathed. She was beginning to get a bit of an appreciation for what Torquil meant--how the surprise of it all, the suddenness of the feeling, and the exhilaration of the Old Blood slowing into nothingness for the first time could linger in one's mind like a malignant shard. Ophelia wouldn't choose to be subjected to the feeling again, but... it was only pain--and pain she had dealt with for as long as she could remember. It would pass and she would remain--knowing that got her through those white-hot moments of agony.

She stopped to actually catch her breath for a few seconds, letting the fatigue flow out of her a little before it built to dangerous levels of exhaustion that would no doubt get her killed. She could sense again that same vulnerability as before in the beast, and the Old Blood within her coursed its base and frenzied vigour into her veins and her mind--she longed to take advantage of it, to once again engage that sense of primal superiority... but there was no way she'd get there before the beast roused itself again. She did, however, spy an opportunity to once again damage the massive steel chain that she'd attempted before and moved towards that objective. She looked over the chain quickly--most of it was pretty close to her, though the link she wanted was further down towards the beast. She took the two seconds to walk at a reasonable pace, winding up the Holy Moonlight Sword and feeding it a quicksilver bullet as she did, before driving the tip into the chain link she'd struck before again. If she could spare them all another of those explosions by cutting off its source of power, they'd all be safer... and it had frustrated her immensely to not succeed earlier--and this lump of metal was as good an outlet as any.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Upon successfully executing her slash, Ophelia noted the sounds of her companions following up and the darkbeast digging its claws down into the ground... but it was somewhat distant, as though the shock of the blow she'd just endured had lingered within her and deafened her somewhat. She still didn't feel altogether there, but she immediately knew that her first instinct was to get out from underneath this beast as the blue glow in the air intensified to the point that Ophelia was certain she could taste it--or her own blood, quite possibly. She evaluated her options in the moment: she might be able to retreat enough to get away from a blast of electricity, or not, depending on the size. She might be able to interrupt it, if she could get to its head... but that seemed desperately uncertain--it'd take most of her stamina just to get there, never mind to make a swing with enough force, enough accuracy, and in time...

She opted for the safer option, making an opportunistic second slash against the beast as she reversed her direction and began running up towards the corner of the gatehouse she'd begun the fight in. She quickstepped a full five meters after clearing the immediate distance from the beast and regaining some of her sense of space and continued running before eventually coming to a stop at eight meters away. She checked then to see if the beast had moved at all: if it hadn't, she fed another quicksilver bullet to her sword and swung it down in a slicing arc to release a blast of scouring energy towards the same wound place she'd been striking previously, and remained ready to hop back even further to avoid the darkbeast's reply.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia felt the radiance of her blade unleash, and prepared to observe her triumph made manifest in reality--only to look down and see the chain had thoroughly resisted her attempt to destroy it. She looked up to observe the state of the battlefield, though between the size of the Lightbeast in front of her and the Darkbeast towering over Farren she couldn't glean much. She heard Gerlinde's laugh and rush of movement, felt the swell of power as she fed a quicksilver bullet to her own implement, and heard the telltale crackling of roaring flame. She prepared herself to make another strike, to go for the exposed hindlegs, only for the sound of thunder and a voltaic explosion near Farren to whip through the metal chain and crawl up her sword into her body. She yanked it out of the chain by reflex alone, though not nearly quickly enough to avoid the surging arc of energy that thrummed into her.

It felt like light and fire all at once, lancing through every aspect of her flesh, and she shrieked in an agony that would thoroughly resonate with the suffering present in the ever-stifling Nightmare. The regenerative potential within her seemed to churn and flicker to life as soon as the damage happened, and she felt her wounds being restored as quickly as they'd been made--leaving only that searing sensation of pain to mark that it had ever happened at all. Flecks of her hair had slightly caught alight, the bright blue sparks of electricity gleaming violently against the silvery-white, and her braid was suddenly pockmarked with flecks of blackened ash. She had to take a few seconds to gather herself from the shock, her limbs momentarily not obeying her commands to them, before she used her right hand to fish a blood vial from her pouch, leaving four, and immediately jabbing it into her thigh.

Thus renewed she waited to see how the battlefield had developed in those seconds she'd spent recovering, and would make an assessment on how best to strike from there: if the others had successfully occupied its attention, she'd rush in towards the darkbeast's exposed right hind leg and aim to slice the sword between the mass of atrophied flesh, fused bone, and rotting sinew with her glorious blade's light--potentially with a quicksilver bullet to launch an arc of energy into it too--just like Ludwig had done in the memory.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia's own reaction to the monstrosity entering the arena was as calm as Farren's, though she had none of those underlying physical sensations detracting from her focus. She was filled with the absolute certainty that they would win, beyond a shadow of doubt, if not in this fight then in the next. This translated as a keen readiness to strike, blade held with both hands ready to be brought down overhead--but it was a different opportunity to Farren's that Ophelia saw. The little motes of guidance showed a connection between the darkbeast and the lightbeast chained in front of them--and Ophelia had spent enough time staring at those chains to know which of them connected to the hulking monstrosity. When she saw the little sparks of blue lightning beginning to build up and crackle between the fine fibres of hair, she made the decision to strike it nearly instantly.

The massive chain had fairly sizeable links, certainly big enough for Ophelia to get the tip of her blade within one. She quickstepped towards the beast in the centre and immediately looked for her prize in the chain connected more closely to the lightbeast. When she found one far enough away that she wasn't worried about hurting the lightbeast or herself she applied a quicksilver bullet to the reified light of the Holy Moonlight Sword and waited for the telltale ululation of building power before she stuck the point of the blade into the centre of one of the chain links, using the motion of her dash to angle the tip of the blade down and bring both it and the chain into contact with the ground where the explosion would soon occur.

She'd then assess the situation again visually, depending on the results of Farren's strike and what both Gerlinde and Torquil did--but her stance remained low and she would, in the absence of any particular growing danger, be looking for a particular weak spot near one of the darkbeast's joints--most likely in its rear legs--to potentially disable it for long enough for her allies to get some strong hits in.

Night of the Hunt - Paleblood

Ophelia

Ophelia followed the movement of the chain with her eyes, quickly leaving the beast to its consignment--when she realised what was happening, that something was being brought closer to them.

"Look, the chain... it's getting more slack. I'd say something is headed our way, loves, the promised batch of followers Gerlinde prophesied not too long ago? Perhaps we should get in position and ambush them, take them out with the element of surprise. We should also observe how the mechanisms work--even if we die, that'll be useful to know for next time. Let's hope we get through unscathed, but, you know..." Ophelia observed, looking immediately to Farren and waving her Evelyn-wielding hand at him to draw his eye to the chain.

She then put the gun away, hefting the Holy Moonlight Sword with two hands to best wield its radiance and ensuring that her chamber of quicksilver bullets was close by--she wanted to show off a little, and make them each aware of the presence of glory they stood in. To bring that glory to their enemies, to awaken them from their path of folly and usher in a new age of light. Or something far less grand, but Ophelia's mind was moved to grand fantasies as she made herself ready and looked to see where the others wanted to go before she decided on optimal positioning.