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In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





















In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay






The Yellow Gulls of Nashibansek resembled many other seagull species found in both Callanast and Constantia. They primarily eat fish but settle for any free meal, including other birds and even carcasses of bigger animals. Often considered a nuisance by coastal civilizations for their pinpoint droppings and aerial skullduggery. They were also respected as adaptable but not immune to harsh climates, with most gulls venturing to warmer spaces in frigid seasons.

This is where the Yellow Gull was distinct from its sibling subspecies, barring its yellow-ish tint on its otherwise white plumage. A strange phenomenon had led these peculiar birds to roost on a relatively small island by the massive dark cloud that was Halge Larchelon in the midst of the colder parts of the year. Their coat was perhaps slightly better suited for cold temperatures, but no more than some other avian species following the same trends. So what brought them here? The lack of competition that made for easier piscine catches? Perhaps, like some species of fish, it was a preferred mating spot? It was a fact of nature that modern understanding of biology and ecosystems couldn’t understand.

But the people still knew of this phenomenon and had accepted it. They were far enough to hardly be a nuisance. This unexplained fact of nature was as ironclad as the moons’ patterns and the sun’s glow.

At this early dawn, the black clouds of Halge Larchelon began to falter. A curious scene, however it hardly constituted a reason to worry - the unnatural acting unnaturally was the very reason most settlements kept significant distance from it. Still, it aroused suspicion - vigilance.

What did cause the bells to ring and the guards to shout in their regional dialect was the lemon cloud of birds that seldom moved even at the face of hurricanes. In a single aerial horde was a profound warning to all that witnessed it. The men gathered their families and carried the elderly, making for the mountains with whatever steeds they could find. There was no concrete notion of “what” they were running from, they just knew they had to run, like how the Yellow Gulls knew to find their precious island every year.

It wasn’t just the humans that noticed the change. Bison herds rushed to the north, other species of birds joined the fleeing yellow flock, aquatic creatures of all kinds fled in visible schools that appeared in gigantic black spots on the stirring ocean.

Hidden in one of the coastal caverns, the largest of the Tyrannus species awoke from its slumber and made for the skies, far above the flock of birds, and with all its apex majesty fled just like the smallest of herbivores.

Then it became a feeling. Instinct told all living beings to run. Heart beats increased without anything to account for it. Something primordial was coming.

Something terrible was coming.



Orvil stumbled to get back on his feet - the poor man had been injured and had to gently move an injured Zuri off him.

By the time he could begin rushing to Leon, Juulet was just about to exact her mission.

“Well, Leon, I miiiight have started all of this with snakey-snake.” Juulet adopted a cutesy smile, which looked nothing more than sinister with her black circled eyes and darkened lips. “Can you feel that?” she referred to the heart palpitations they had all experienced. “I’ll SHOW you what I’ve been trying to do.” she reached out for his hand.

And they were gone.

Intense heat nearly burned Leon’s skin, but the protective bubble Juulet had pre-emptively conjured kept him safe. It remained scorching hot, still, and breathing became painful. They were inside the core’s chamber, except it was dark with no sun to be found - only the rings that once surrounded the celestial body, lit up in blue, revealing two dozen of pure black orbs floating where the fusion core once was. They were about watermelon size.

“Don’t speak.” demanded the avatar. “Listen.”

Juulet took a deep breath - her bloodtype had made her as adaptable as Yvain. Her hands with black painted nails reached for the ebony stars that silently existed above them.

“There were once thirteen Gods that walked our world.”

One of the orbs moved ever so slightly. A mere tug had prompted Juulet to sweat, but she didn’t relent.

“Eleven were meant to ascend. One fell. Ten transcended.”

The black pit of mass slowly hovered toward the Yasoi. Every pull caused her body to strain further. In spite of all her power, manipulating a single one of these proved to be rapidly exhausting. She panted, but it did little to impede her tale.

“To offer sanctuary to the perished, they built their homes. Worlds like ours, but in their images. And their inverse, to punish the unworthy.”

The sphere was nearing her, and at this point it seemed like the floating Avatar was about to falter. Leon intervened, finding that his limiter had been lifted to a certain extent.

“Hah …” exhaled Juulet. “The power they needed to accomplish such a feat … One from the very stars. A power from the lost Moon itself.”

Said power was now between her hands. Leon could sense it, just how unstable this immense concentration of mass truly was. If she were to slip, they could both instantly perish.

“This is not a Forge. This is a piece of that long lost Moon. Our solution to this sad world. And now, it is the fallen Goddess’ turn to rise. She will have her promised paradise.”

Juulet declared as she squeezed the gravitational field around the big, ebony orb. It shrunk by about a quarter before she very slowly guided it downwards to a portal she had opened right under it. Everything felt heavier.

“But what we’ve unleashed today is worth it. We did it.”

Emerging from the portal was a transparent container. It looked like normal glass, though a keen eye could detect a dense concentration of manas, invisible to the eye but spread all over the surface. The orb, with great care, was inserted and finally sealed away. The gravitational power had suddenly been silenced and the peculiar orb could be carried like it was any regular bauble.

“Now a Titan has awakened. A guardian from the sky.”

Everything shook. Only once, a single quake. One powerful enough to launch all those bound to the laws of gravity to the ceiling. Machines jumped and broke, some even exploded. The core’s chamber was protected, however, even from the most cataclysmic of seismic activity. Still, they could sense it at the edge of their magic range.

“Have you ever witnessed the power of a God, Leon Solaire? You will see it in its most primal form. In lumbering flesh.”

It was an opportunity for Pluurii to flee after a borderline suicidal standoff with the implaccable Xiuyang. A near fatal interruption of Yvain’s life saving treatment, only maintained by Hu He’s insight on this inevitable occurrence. All those in the laboratory were spared the most devastating effects of the earth’s tremble. Seviin, driven by her oath to preserve all life, had made it just in time to preserve a still unconscious Yuliya from an unceremonious internal decapitation.

Many Hegelans were hurt, a lot of the infrastructure was rendered vulnerable.

“And it’s going to kill everything here and none of us can really stop it.”

The lonely and nameless island covered in a small layer of snow East of Halge Larchelon had since become a hill. Waves turned into tsunamis that threatened coastal settlements miles away - though they had seen the yellow cloud too and knew better than to stay.

The hill became a frigid mountain, a mountain that grew legs with scales the size of trees and claws piercing the hardest and deepest bedrock they could grip.

What emerged in a cataclysmic splash of seawater and foam was a country-sized mass. Its most mundane of movements caused tremors to spread for miles.

Through the briney mist incurred from its awakening emerged a head bigger than the Monsigneus that had long since fled with teeth that matched the massive ice stalagmites that accumulated under its maw.

In its first step to shore, the ocean around it froze completely. Fissures spread right up to the Industrial District of the now unprotected ruins of the city.

With a single inhale of that head the black clouds that tyrannized Halge Larchlon dissipated, and with a single glare from its black pupil most of the nearest outskirts dissipated into nothing.

“You’ve probably heard of it. But the mistake is that people think there’s only one.”

The earth quaked again.

Its soulless eyes were trained solely at the Forge.

Just in time for Juulet to warp Leon to the surface and bear witness to the glacial glare of what they had awakened.

“Ta-daaaah! It’s-”

Before she could make her revelation, she just barely dodged a wave of droppings from a pack of yellow gulls. “Fucking shitbirds! Anyway, enough suspense. Say hello to Tarlon’s not-so-one-and-only!”

In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay










The group had split, the bulk in the fog, two to the flooded belly of Halge Larchelon, and finally the last two Yasoi that together formed a pair of legs sought the leaning peak. The goal was to awaken the spire in the center and to reveal the path to the Forge. A path to freedom from the oppressive air of this long dead city.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Creak. Creak. Creak.

One hopped, the other limped. A duet of discordant noises in a land ruled by silence. It was grating to say the least. Every deep breath made by Juulet was a conspicuous sign of her growing impatience, especially as the one relegated to awkward jumps with only her spear as a means of support - nonoptimal did not begin to describe her predicament. Pluurii, on the other hand, was a mistress of patience like any good sniper would be. She followed in tow, holding her tongue …

Until she too felt the eerie silence creep in. “You-”

“We don’t have to chitchat or be friends.” retorted Juulet, her Enthish accent emerging at full force.

“Your arm is beginning to shake.” remarked the soft spoken Tarlonese.

“I’m tired.” the queen of Viisan lied. “I’ll be even more if we lag behind.” with that, she zipped through time to the limit of her reduced range. Pluurii, mildly flabbergasted, jogged the best she could to catch up. The creaking of the springs was only getting worse.

There was more silence as they passed through another residential area - one nicer than the previous district where some had awakened. They cut through a ruined house as they neared the gated off tower. “Remember when we found those ruins?” a core memory for Pluurii, perhaps one of the few that didn’t involve her questionable vocation. “It was like an adventure.”

It took a moment for Juulet to recall. “That ended poorly.” ever the grump, she shot a dirty look at her handicapped counterpart. “It wasn’t really a happy time for neither you nor I.”

“It was still nice. Some of the girls were kind.”

“They hardly talked to you.” Juulet recalled nonchalantly. “You hardly talked.”

“Guess I was kind of shy, huh?” an awkward giggle, one that almost sounded forced, came out of those dried lips of her’s.

Still so fucking weird …

Nothing was said until they finally trespassed the metal fence leading to the damaged tower. It was leaning onto an adjacent building, the base partially collapsed from an unknown cause. Juulet opted to use space-time to gain some altitude while Pluurii leveraged the bit of magic she had to empower the springs in her prosthetic and launch herself, just barely keeping up with the Constantian Yasoi.

The ascent was tiring and they had to pace themselves. “Juulet.” beckoned Pluurii, though Juulet hardly acknowledged the call. “You’ve gotten so confident and strong. It’s really, errr,” still nothing from the one-legged Yasoi. Her gaze was devoted only to their climb. “Cool!”

Pluurii continued to talk as they climbed. She was growing comfortable. “I’m more confident too, I think. At least with my aiming, and other stuff. I wish we could’ve done some recreational activities during the Trials, but you were always so gung-ho and I-” and on, and on. Friendly words, more than she had uttered to most other people.

Juulet, on the other hand, was increasingly aggravated. The throbbing headache, the exponentially growing shake and the craving. The overdrawing had accelerated the problem. As they landed at one of the floors where the windows were shattered and they could find shelter, the spear-wielding Yasoi turned to glare at the yapping sniper. “We are not buddies, girl.” she declared, almost getting into Pluurii’s face. “We were maybe at the lowest part of the Vyshta food chain, but YOU were at the bottom. I at least bit back. You-” Juulet sneered while Pluurii stared at her wide-eyed, both bandaged hands clutching her rifle.

Juulet wanted to say more but abstained. “You never grew.” she left it at that before turning around.

“... You don’t look at me like others do.” spoke Pluurii, her voice neutral but uncompromised by emotion. Juulet merely shook her head and continued her ascent. “I noticed it. You never made fun of me, or whispered about me. You didn’t once make remarks on that rotund Huusoi, or make a joke at the expense of your would-be killer’s loss of legs.” Juulet paused to listen, head canted slightly. “You’re not a hypocrite. You mean what you say. You act. You understand. You don’t let the pretenders put you down.”

They neared the summit. Juulet stopped to take in the view. A peaceful sight to drown out the voices in her head, and Pluurii’s. The massive fog engulfing the ruins below was surprisingly satisfying, in a way. It was also terrifying - this was the exact sight she had dreamed of, but it was the whole world. Eaten by shrouded force, a fog so to speak. It reminded her of her mission.

A few floors remained, but both were interrupted by a voice.

”Help me …” in broken Constantian. They didn’t have to investigate for long. Standing was one of these thralls, hunched forward with arms hanging limp. The emaciated head of a bald man was looking their way, eyes displaying some sort of conscience. He looked old and thoroughly malnourished. Juulet silently approached while Pluurii aimed her gun.

I never felt closer to someone.

The Tarlonese did not aim it at the peculiar third wheel but at Juulet.

I want to be you.

”Help-” the man then lunged right at Juulet with hooked fingers that could tear through concrete. A single shot from the gunslinger had the thrall’s head explode, but the body emerged once more for an attack. It was Juulet’s turn, she quickly conjured a portal connecting to the window, making the rushing corpse launch itself off great heights to its doom.

“Fuck, they can speak too?! Nightmare shit …”

“I think he was still alive.”

“Then why’d you shoot his face? Maybe we’d find something out.” an ungrateful Juulet scolded Pluurii.

“You’re welcome.”

“But seriously, who the fuck does this to people? I swear, if I find fucko’s here I’m turning them lame.”

“I can think of a few reasons. A warning? Efficient manpower?”

“Ugh. Weirdo. Of course you’d think that.”

With that, they had finally reached the summit. Navigating the crooked architecture was a challenge for these two disabled Yasoi, but the worst had passed. “There was something about a switch … If that's the whole point of this tower, it should be easy to find.”

As Pluurii pushed aside some of the now rusted metal furniture, she had found something. But before she could declare it, a loud sound coupled with a bright light caught their attention. Just outside, not too far off, a massive explosion occurred where they could swear they thought the fish-girl and the blonde had been sent to. An explosion so big, the fog stirred and the shockwave shook the foundation of the leaning tower. It wasn’t enough to sip it.

But the two Yasoi cripples stumbling about at the very top did.

“Crud.” even Pluurii was left concerned. “We need to get out!”

“Wait, the switch!” with the building beginning to break through the adjacent one, Juulet couldn’t find proper footing or focus enough to use temporal. Pluurii was at arm’s reach. A loud thud had both girls hoisted up in the air from the sudden shift in the tower’s position. Both groaned in pain, but it had gotten Pluurii’s bandaged hand to the switch, and she pulled.

The tower did not actually collapse. At least, not yet. The tip had gotten stuck on something again, though the constant creaking that trumped Pluurii’s leg did not aspire much confidence.

“Fuck all of this.” she declared. “Agreed.” Pluurii added. Now, there was a benefit to this new, steep predicament:

Tower sliding. And both were into it.



The Fog was meant to deceive, to disorient and to dissuade. Oftentimes, the hearts of those who traversed it were enough to make them reconsider. One’s fears need not manifest to reign supreme in their lives.

Leon saw where his path would lead him, and more importantly, those that mattered to him. He may have found the path to the spire that beckoned them all, but did he have the will to make that final step?

Yvain was privy to the darkness both his entourage and his ambition could lead him toward. He was destined for great things, but would he ever live long enough to enjoy them?

Xiuyang would find herself standing by yet another monster, one of many in her tortured life riddled with deception she, deep down, could sense. Even the most innocent of her friends looked like a creature that’d devour her.

Seviin appeared renewed. Perhaps not in spirit like many normally would one they emerged from the Fog, but in body. A hirsute transformation that revealed the nature of ability: The air of Halge Larchelon did not poison her like the others.

Lighting their way was a rotating, red light right over the metal gate differentiated by texture from the stone composition of the obelisk. There were two lights above it, but one was active. It was only after the massive explosion beyond the Fog, where Kaureerah and Yuliya had been dispatched, that the second light activated. With it came a warning buzz, alerting all those nearby that the gate was opening.

“Excellent.” the voice from the box echoed through the nearby buildings connected to the electrical network. “Hurry inside and shut down the magic dampener. I will guide your associates in the meantime.”

The door rolled open like a modern garage door, revealing a large, square shaped room with illuminating lights that resembled what Juulet and Xiuyang had encountered. There were yellow and white markings to delineate certain parts of it, old but not quite faded runes on the walls and multiple handrails. A quick scan of one’s range would reveal that there was a tunnel right below this room.

“We will finally meet once you complete your task.”

It was an elevator, not a completely foreign concept to most, but it did not require any sort of rudimentary pulley system or direct magic input. It functioned entirely on the same sort of electrical network a few had sensed previously. The door closed after thirty seconds and the spacious box descended down. The trip was no more than twenty seconds. A time for a brief and awkward exchange, perhaps an unwanted noise.

Ding.

The door slid open once more, revealing …



Smooth music? A style they had never heard before. A mixture of piano, strings, a trumpet perhaps? The music came from speakers similar to what the radio had been using before, except they were clean, integrated in the walls and looked more ‘advanced’. The sound quality was amazing.

The room itself nearly blinded the group. White, very white, a stark contrast to the darkness above and all its dust. It was exceptionally clean here, smelling like artificial lavender and bleach - something else they’ve never felt before. There were rows of leather seats with an unmanned desk at the opposite end of the room, giving the air of some sort of waiting room. There were a couple of fake plants by the rows too, although there wasn’t any sort of book to distract potential visitors.

It wasn’t all clean ceramic and rich metals. The walls were composed of stone native to the area, but fashioned to give off a more lavish air to the room. The craftsmanship resembled that of the Western Hegelan civilizations. But the most damning comparisons were two beams maintaining the room together - made of a particular marble and designed in a similar manner to burial spires.

By the desk was another door akin to the elevator’s, albeit smaller and likely made only for people while the one they were in could realistically be used to move cargo. Adjacent to it was a regular shaped door, although the height would make it very inconvenient for those like Seviin to pass by. There was another plain door on the left side of the room, unassuming and isolated from other points of interest. Stepping out of the elevator, they’d see another, large door to their right with track marks linking it to the elevator - perhaps they moved cargo in there?

The runes writing over each door and on the walls associated with arrows did little to offer guidance. They were quite different even by Hegelan standards.

“ᚨᛏᛏᛖᚾᛏᛟᚾ ᛁᚾᛏᚱᚢᛞᛖᚱᛊ. ᛖᚢᚨᚲᚢᚨᛏᛖ ᚦᛖ ᛈᚱᛖᛗᛁᛊᛖᛊ ᚾᛟᚹ. ᛁᛟᚢ ᚺᚨᚢᛖ ᛒᛖᛖᚾ ᚹᚨᚱᚾᛖᛞ. ᛁ ᚱᛖᛈᛖᛏ, ᛖᚢᚨᚲᚢᚨᛏᛖ ᚾᛟᚹ.”

A voice came from the speakers as the music quieted down. It was modulated to hide distinguishing features but they could tell it was most likely a woman’s. The language, however, was alien to most. Only those with a basis in Hegelan languages could potentially decipher pieces of it.

After some time, another message passed through the speakers.

“ᚨᛏᛏᛖᚾᛏᛟᚾ ᛁᚾᛏᚱᚢᛞᛖᚱᛊ. ᚲᛟᚾᛏᛁᚾᚢᛖ ᛁᛟᚢᚱ ᚨᛞᚢᚨᚾᚲᛖ ᚨᚾᛞ ᚹᛖ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛒᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᚲᛖᛞ ᛏᛟ ᚨᛈᛈᚱᛖᚺᛖᚾᛞ ᚨᚾᛞ/ᛟᚱ ᚾᛖᚢᛏᚱᚨᛚᛁᛉᛖ ᛁᛟᚢ. ᛖᚢᚨᚲᚢᚨᛏᛖ ᛁᛗᛗᛖᛞᛟᛏᛖᛚᛁ.”

In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay








Zarina’s right side was barely supported by a bent spire made of red. Skin was torn apart with remaining, blackened stands barely hanging on the torn muscles. Bones were spared but the leg could essentially be considered crippled. Neither wildblood healing nor paltry knowledge in binding could salvage it in a timely manner. All she could spare was a severe limp, made worse by intense dulling as to not have her drool any more than she already was. She did not scream, but her eyes were bloodshot and her lips covered in foaming saliva. The pain was atrocious.

Jo …

The ghostly figure retracted her hand.

This is what you meant. The people you talked about.

The hair, the posture, the ruthlessness. It was all Jocasta. Her sensei. Impossible to read - Certosa’s chemical prowess was far greater than Zarina’s. It was hard to focus too when standing became a challenge, her sword what her anchor.

I can’t stay on the group, I’m worthless here.

With that, the dragon made the risky decision to take to the sky like her enemies, knowing full well she had a Skyborn to deal with.

I need to get out. I can’t even hit the other one. And now Jocasta … I don’t …

In the midst of her thoughts, the one with the chartreuse-coloured mask - a mask lacking any human trait, any soul - appeared right in front of Zarina. A delicate, thin hand that was unmistakably her master’s reached out to strangle her. The other slapped away the Virangish’s sword, prompting the one with the azure mask to seize it.

The other hadn’t done anything since, in spite of the openings. Despite the resolve to kill. A detail that frustrated Zarina all the more.

“I-I …” it was hard to speak. Both hands on the blonde spectre’s arm did little to loosen the grip. “I’m sorry, Jo’ …”

Volto Certosa, known as Veleno “The Poison”, did not react. Her head merely canted a little before she tightened her grip. There was undeniable murderous intent behind the hollow holes of the mask.

I can’t keep my promise. To stop you. I never could.

The faceless assailant remained as she was, but the blue assassin twitched. She leaned forward. Reacted. It was conspicuous enough to have Zarina notice it as well as the drawing.

Certosa swelled in power.

You did not draw. she noticed, kept conscious only through her expert use of chemical magic. You act like you neither love nor hate me. a big attack was coming. True massive, but … Not nearly as big as …

The one with the azure mask scoffed silently.

Instead of attacking, Zarina began to draw. She drew a lot, very much at capacity.

The featureless mask cracked. The arm that held Zarina kept strong but fizzled into a blur.

“Z- Za-.” the whole being began to crack.

“The real you …” with a single slam of her palms onto the arm, the figure shattered. “Would not be nearly this weak!” she proclaimed almost like a triumphant roar. A glare full of ire was then directed to the one holding the strings.

“All tricks. No bite.” the dragon taunted, taking deep breaths. Her leg was still in terrible shape.

The assassin chuckled. A first show of emotion. Chuckle and spoke with a voice befitting an actual person. “No bite, she says.” in an instant, Zarina that was still recovering from being nearly choked out, was introduced to a massive, unseen force of pure pressure sending her right into the cliffside of the coast. Her attacker had actually moved in close range to ensure she had taken the entirety of her ‘bite’. “Conceded child. You may be strong, you may even impress some of us. But you have neither bark nor bite.” the entity’s gloved hand had all of her fingers hook and crack after the assault.

Zarina was nestled in a crater created from the impact of her body. Scales, RAS and healing had prevented her from taking more than a few broken ribs. Although now, with a constant need to regain her breath, these otherwise ‘minor’ injuries felt like death.

“I am Volto Azurro. You may remember me in the afterlife as Triste. Consider this your reward for pushing this far.” there wasn’t this aggressive neutrality and indifference in her voice. There was a desire to sink her metaphorical fangs into her prey, to poison her, before finishing the job.

Why? Zarina wondered as she dragged herself out of her rocky tomb and barely managed to stand up straight. Why do all this? Just kill me. a challenging glare remained on the Virangish’s face - it was not a request to kill her, but a demand. The games were weighing on her soul. But you’re no fucking Jocasta.

Triste scowled under her mask. Her body language echoed this wave of emotion, even if subtly. More and more, it began to click. What felt like an impossibility was taking form right before her.

Fine then. I won’t make it easy for you.

Azurro extended her arm in the same manner the false Certosa did. All around Zarina were small particles - she recognized them. They were about to blow.

A chain reaction! I’ll nullify it-

In that moment, Triste’s creations had immediately turned into an uncontrolled growth of metal that impaled everything nearby.

However, Zarina hadn’t actually tampered with them and instead had reflexively teleported without any real idea or target. She merely zipped somewhere. Fortune determined that it would be twenty meters above the Volti, where she then launched an explosive chemical spell of her own.

Triste quickly turned, still fast on the trigger, but this time there was no perfect counter. A robust barrier that just barely defended her from the attack had been conjured. And the end result was a piece of her pristine robe being charred. An insignificant morsel.

Progress.



She switched her tactic at the last second. Is the exertion getting to her? Was she deterred because of her physical state? Like a cornered animal …

There was something in Zarina’s eyes that changed. She knew something. Triste knew that she knew soon after. Or at least, had enough of an idea. This flustered the Volti even more. Her movements lacked grace, and the fact that she was actually moving was noteworthy. The next attack came from Zarina. Temporal magic - a full body attack to grapple Triste.

No, it was actually a piece of a tree’s trunk. The Volti had created a cloud to disintegrate flesh and blood that entered it, but a massive pile of wood prompted her to chop it with her own hand. Once again, the pre-emptive measure with no signs of temporal magic showed itself again.

“I see what you’re doing.” spoke Zarina. She looked terrible, like she could break apart any second now. There was then a moment of silence, the dragon’s gaze narrowed like she saw something others didn’t.

You wretched brat. Triste’s fingers slowly curled into fists. How can a feeble-mind like yours know- the Volti inhaled deeply. I overstepped. I showed you too much. You- behind the mask, the assassin glared too. You pathetic cuckoo. Poison. I should have killed you in Torragon. You know nothing of her. Of me. Of us.

Zarina attacked, this time Triste hesitated. The grapple attempt was real this time, but her instinct couldn’t be fully trusted. The dragon got too close.

“Not close enough.” the young attacker ended up screaming bloody murder and came crashing down. Her hands were severely burnt, as well as parts of her arms and other parts of her body. She screamed and banged her head against the dirt ground after impact. The agony was nothing she had ever felt before.

Surrounding Triste was an unseen aura. Something of pure, sadistic death. “Even the greatest of predators fall to the smallest of things in nature. Young dragon-” the Volti hovered closer to the agonizing girl. “A Xochi Dart Frog could kill a Begemot. A blowfish, eaten whole, can condemn a blue water behemoth. I may look like easy prey once you see through me, but I’m no less a lethal threat to even the highest in the food chain.” the aura around her was peak levels of chemical magic, a cocktail of the most noxious of venoms and acids made gaseous. Flesh burned, nerves flared and blood rotted. The latter had just been avoided thanks to Zarina’s quick retreat.

Let’s end this.

But before she could, the pained Virangish warrior once again tugged onto the threads of space and time. Pointless. from above was a portal. But what came out of it wasn’t just water. This isn’t right. something crawled out of it. Massive, mindless and absolutely brutal.

“Eat her Nu!”

The command meant little to the thing. A young Blue Water Behemoth had just been dropped onto Triste’s water-separating barrier. She had enough time to dodge, but the aggression of the beast outside of its element had become a problem. Suddenly, her predictive measures were traded for brute force with expert use of her magic schools.

All the while Zarina continued her assaults on Volto Azurro. Teleported chunks of exploding goods, kinetic strikes, internal chemical sabotage … All within Triste’s specialities, all repelled, but the flailing, aquatic monster firing high-pressure jets of water at her prevented anything more than reactions. She was still mostly untouchable. She did, however, feel a tingle. Something nostalgic. Was it the taste of battle? Perhaps the connection between master and apprentice? She could sense, behind the rough, the marks of Jocasta in Zarina’s approach, in her technique.

No, there was something even deeper to her identity. Something old, a memory that had happened a long time ago. It faded quickly as the behemoth proved to be far too rowdy to dispatch quickly.

I’ve no time to boil lobsters. frustrated, she used Zarina’s own ability of portaling. Where it ended up was unknown to the Virangish, but Nu was gone. He had done his job.

Zarina was left panting. She had given it her all. In the blink of an eye, she was hurled to the dirt once more. This time her hip cracked and her spine herniated. The pain was horrible, dulling it would ensure her loss of consciousness.

She had fallen right by the corpse of her headless apprentice-to-be. Her eyes would be gazing where Fedouah’s would be. The dragon couldn’t escape, nor did she want to anymore. She had killed people, she had let her student die. She couldn’t even fight someone of her own size.

Triste landed too and approached with a calculated gait. “One of your most dangerous winnings in the trials. Surely we’d know of this. Surely you’d know that we know.” She did not get too close to the Al-Nader. She was smart enough not to, but she wanted to see this one die. She’ll never need saving. Neither from you or-

Home.



Something was off. That feeling returned. It was more than just a feeling, however. Triste had sensed something. It was small - too small to be worthy of consideration or of intelligence. And yet, the out-of-place familiarity worried her more than any beast or even her tactics being found out.

No. This is wrong.

Whatever she was going to do, Triste stopped. She looked around. There was something else out there. But it had no higher intelligence, or a significant aura. Small as a dart frog, unassuming as a blowfish … she recalled. No more. No more distraction, she drew to quickly conjure a finishing spell, the same one that killed Fedouah.

“Nu is dangerous. He’s a monster. But he’s not my ace.”

These words were enough to make Triste hesitate again. Had she miscalculated? No, this girl was not smart enough. Some house far away, that armband she wore and the aquatic monster. These were her new and most powerful assets.

Wait.

Zarina stood quickly, her right fist readied.

There was something else.

The feeling came again. Nostalgic. Familiar. Close. This time it felt visceral.

Zarina lunged and readied a punch. A sophomoric approach, one that could easily be stopped.

Triste’s arm went limp. Her whole body faltered, leaning back as if she had been knocked out. And with it came the constant sensation that had been plaguing her.

I can’t … she could regain control. Triste was that powerful. Her system flooded with drugs to jumpstart her nervous system again. As she was about to fall, her leg was the first to awaken. A mighty stomp on the ground had her fall come to a halt. But now the punch was imminent.

I remember. the Volti quickly raised her hand, she had used too much energy to restore herself, making temporal unviable. But she did have her toxic shroud. At full power, she was going to punish Zarina with pain great enough to make her heart stop. There was an auction too.

It did not deter the dragon. She continued her attack. She’s crazy! What is wrong with you?! the fist tore through the searing shroud of death, instantly gnawing through Zarina’s hand and arm.

Oh.

The melting fist clashed against Volto Azurro’s mask, hitting the left cheek. It was everything that Zarina had, and naturally it shattered.

I see it now.

Flashes of missing cactus fruit. Of stolen oranges from the family orchard. Dungs under the floorboards. Gnawed wood. Dung in the bedroom. Of the pleasant sea breeze. Stinked up by dung.

Of unwanted naps.

As Triste’s gaze was forced toward the Palaparese bush by the punch that shattered her mask, she finally saw it.

That- It’s-

Hidden between bushes. A tiny thing among wildlife that had been hiding from the humans. It stood out among them all. Its golden colour, its pearly white teeth. There it was staring at her.



The Golden Vermin!


Triste, mentor and parental figure of Jocasta, had sought to kill the latter’s pupil, but not before executing Zarina’s own pupil. A sadistic circle, one she believed to be the beginning and the end of. Such arrogance bit her in the very end. The very first hardship as a Djamantese girl she had ever faced came to be her potential last one too.

It had truly gone full circle.

Volto Azurro had been hit for the first time. She flew twenty or so meters away and barreled a few more. Once the dust settled, she stood on one knee, hand on her blooded and swollen face. Long, blonde hair flowed out of her damaged hood with fragments lodged into her scalp as well. Panting. Seething.

Zarina had fallen to her knees too. Her arm was gooped-up flesh, infected blood and steaming bone. Her idle hand was clutching her shoulder, tightening around it to cut blood flow. Her heart rate was dangerously high, the pain was astronomical and part of her face had been burned off. But by sheer will to live and resentment for her enemy, she ripped off her arm and seared the wound closed.

Bestial. That’s what she was. A beast that charged forward into danger. The armband was redundant at this point. Triste’s good eye could see it. She had let emotion and attachment get in the way, and now Virang’s dragon was more untethered than she ever was.

She’s weak. I can finish this quickly.

Triste did not believe her own words. Armless. Missing a lot of blood. A mess. It should be easy prey, but the assassin was no longer certain. She could heal herself relatively quickly, but at the risk of her face being seen and wasting time.

The final decision was made once she heard the trumpets near Kalubay. Ertan Kashani and his forces had arrived.

Time’s up.

Clenching her bloodied and deformed face, Volto Azurro glared one last time at her mark. Reason had returned.

“Expect us.”

Uttered with her real voice, she vanished in a cloud of dust.

Zarina, silent, fell onto her good shoulder, once again eyeing her dead comrade. Biby the hippo joined her soon after, finding it an adequate time to rest.

Sounds of horses closing in, having likely detected the surges of energy, let her finally breathe.

She agreed with the little one, it's a good time to fall asleep. She had earned her rest.
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay








I missed again.

The masked apparition hadn’t attacked since Fedouah’s untimely murder. No matter the attack, the angle, the zips and feints. The enemy had always been able to preemptively avoid without straining herself with the gift beyond a couple of accelerations. It was frustrating, but it had allowed the anger to come out early and Zarina to compose herself. Whatever this killer was, she could not be brute forced.

What can I possibly do?

The ominous being, levitating in a manner that resembled a hanged man, angled her mask in a manner that made the eyes appear as though they were grinning. Mocking the dragon.

“It drives one mad, doesn’t it? The powerlessness. Enough to make a regular, good person murder their neighbors. For the poor to abuse the rich tenfold. For the worker to devour alive the bourgeois.” the masked being opened her arms in a mild shrug. “It is now your turn to be stripped, Zarina. I have come to take everything.”

You love to hear yours-

Zarina’s back arched unnaturally outward, her gut was bruised and her mouth left agape from strings of saliva to escape. Without drawing, the Volti envoy had managed to deliver a wicked strike to her abdomen. It was only afterward that the dragon sensed evidence of temporal magic. It was too quick, though - inhumanly quick. On one knee and kept partially standing with her sword planted to the ground, the young dragon felt any sense of control she may have had completely vanished in that moment.

“I was afraid you weren’t paying attention.” uttered the distorted voice behind the mask. She raised her hand and flicked her wrist at the direction of the teenager. “Now that I have it, however, let’s put you to the test.”

Various parts of Zarina’s body began to steam. It started with a mild warmth but quickly became an agonizing ordeal. Skin was being melted via an unseen corrosive agent.

“Guh …!” if standing was hard before, it became far worse now. The pain was one thing, but the stench of burnt and transformed flesh with the agent utilized was possibly the worst thing. It made her want to vomit even more than with the gut punch.

I can’t see right … What is wrong with this bitch?

Zarina finally unleashed a loud exhale.

Fuck off, I’m not going to be your toy.

The Virangish bit back with her counter-spell. The acidic agent was nullified and an internal attack was mixed in with the defensive maneuver, camouflaged as a mere of her recovery effort.

That’s impossible, how?! a wide-eyed Zarina grit her teeth at what she had just witnessed. Her foe had not only countered her disruptive chemical endeavour, but it was as if she had immunized herself before it ever even reached her. This wasn’t just fast, it was nonsensical. No temporal disturbances. I don’t see anything VOID-like. She’s just there. Alive. Not an illusion as far as I can tell. What the fuck are these monsters?! she did not despair, but the terror became palpable.

“Your recovery is impressive.” remarked the woman with the cyan mask. Zarina’s skin-deep wounds had already begun to close and heal. “But still in its infancy. I’ll be nipping you at the bud before you bloom and spread your poisonous pollen onto this world.”

The motive of the torturous attacks was clear, it was pure reconnaissance. One of Virang’s ace was but a fledgeling, a vital piece of information for the opposition.

That’s right, keep talking. the defiant dragon, partially concealed behind her blade, glared right at the Volti. I will cut you down in the ocean’s deluge. From above!

A portal opened above the masked figure and immediately a torrent of ocean water befell her. She only had the chance to look up. In tandem, Zarina had kept enough scraps of temporal magic to perform an uppercut when the Volti would inevitably be smacked down to land.

Something’s wrong. the water current hadn’t been interrupted and the enemy hadn’t drawn more than what had been stored from previous assaults. She was still in there and NOT coming down. How?! She's ... Not even trying. the finest of kinetic barriers perfectly split the merciless waterfall in two, not a single drop touched the enemy. Zarina promptly retreated while the gate closed, revealing an unbothered, floating being.

“Enough. I’ve wasted enough of the finite time I have left in this world.” the menace pointed her index finger at the Virangish, her drawn energy focused onto the very tip of her finger. Arcane school, Zarina could tell, or Atomic. But with it came a variety of portals all around the coastal terrain they battled in. The Volti fired a thin yet undeniably deadly ray of energy. It did not aim for the dragon but instead one of the portals.

She’s going for my flank!

Zarina dodged to the side. It was her face that ended up being the target. Had she not dilated time around her at the last possible millisecond, she would not have had time to raise her sword and soften the blow. Her right horn was burnt completely off.

I wasn’t wrong. she remarked after the fact. It was going for that portal to my left. I knew it did. But it changed right before the beam hit it. That’s … the once confidence and near-fearless dragon gulped. A level of control that’s even better than Jocasta’s. in fact, the way portals were constructed reminded her of elite users, like her sensei.

It was at that moment that the masked being’s disposition changed. Her posture stiffened and her chin rose slightly. Something had changed, and it was not the miss, as she seemed ready to fire another beam until she just stopped. Silently, she stared at her greatsword wielding mark.

“... To think someone like you could be given so many blessings.” ire could be heard in the otherwise distorted and ephemeral voice. “And squander them all by being another tool. Such ineptitude- no, manipulation, is a poison we vow to root out.”

We …

For just a moment, the Volti had drawn a considerable amount of energy from the waves and wind. Something big was coming. Zarina readied her blade, only to turn her back on the enemy and lower it. No …

Another spectral-like entity took the heavens, this one hovering right before the crescent, white-gold moon of Shune, Ceros.



“Zarina.”

“No …!”

“Drop dead.”

With a single wave of her hand, a massive internal chemical assault befell Zarina. What could’ve been her entire body shutting down was stifled and focused entirely on one point: Her right leg. It burst in a mist of blood.

Overwhelming power.
In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay















In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay









In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay







In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay







In The Hourglass Order → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay







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